Sure, it was tough. Life there, in Yonkers, always is. But there are things that must be understood; things about the people and their makeup and when one gets out clean, about him and how he did it.

You don't see a lot of turnover in the Penn State Athletic Department. The unspoken rule in University Park is once a coach is hired, that coach becomes part of the family.

Orlando: a plastic resort town, half populated by retirees and made famous by a man and his vision for a mouse. Oh, and it's also home to a university that has a student body that, at 36,013, is larger than three Big Ten schools.

If you've ever stepped foot on the Penn State campus, read anything about the history of the football team, or had even the slightest interest in the Nittany Lions, you know the scene.

A 20-year time period is hard to put a stamp on. It's not so long that people don't remember what happened during it, but it is also not short enough to seem like yesterday.

Experts called it "the Dream Bowl." For Penn State fans, it was simply redemption. The 1983 Sugar Bowl was the type of game that doesn't come along very often -- No. 1 vs. No. 2, to decide the supreme power in college football. The mere thought of watching the top teams in the country duke it out for a national championship left impartial onlookers salivating.