It could have been a pastoral tale of college football gone right.

The sky was gray and hanging just over the upper decks of Beaver Stadium. In the cold of late November, people wrapped in overcoats screamed for the seniors they were watching for the final time.

And those seniors, some of whom will go down in Penn State lore as names on the roster rather than as Technicolor images, ingrained in people's minds, huddled as a group of equals. Some joked, some cried, but all held their heads up, knowing they would go out as a group of winners. It would have been such a good morality play, this group that collectively gave up drinking for the season and fulfilled their stated goal of "righting the ship" in such sharp contrast to a MSU team that has fallen apart as two captains were lost, one to substance abuse problems, the other to the law, with the head coach as the ultimate causalty.

If only they had played a tooth-and-nail war decided late with a game-winning drive, it would have been preserved as one of those classics that alumni talk about in the parking lot over roast pork and beer for years to come.

Instead, shortly into the second quarter, Saturday's game became something else entirely. A football game transformed into a celebration of everything this season has been about, and all the players whose names popped up from week to week all got their turn to be in the spotlight. From the moment the 22 seniors broke from their huddle to join their teammates and start the game, everyone knew Larry Johnson would be the story. Would he get to 2,000 yards for the season? Could he break his own school record yet again? Would he put on a show for the Heisman voters?

LJ's performance was expected, at least as much as you can expect a tailback to have almost 300 yards in a half. When everyone else stepped onto the stage as well, most notably wide receiver Bryant Johnson, that Saturday became something special.

At the beginning of the season, Bryant, not LJ, was considered the Lions' second most dangerous offensive weapon after Zack Mills. However, both Mills and Bryant took a back seat as Larry Johnson started his record-setting march.

But on Saturday, Bryant, another one of those senior leaders, stood up to be counted, snagging a 41-yard touchdown pass and returning a punt for a touchdown for the first time. It was the type of performance he had been waiting on.

He wasn't the only one. Mills, who's taken a bashing from everyone outside the locker room at times this season, played as well as you can when you're only allowed to throw 10 passes. His backup, Michael Robinson played as well as he ever has in mop up duties.

Tony Johnson, who's spent these last few weeks endlessly answering the same questions about what it means to play together, had a pair of catches and would have taken a kickoff to the house had his foot not stepped just off the field. Plus, he can take credit for making his big brother cry, a feat in and of itself.

The defensive line again bullied an overmatched opponent and the secondary clamped down on Charles Rogers. It was the type of performance that will make this defense will go down as the best in recent memory. If you want to know what Saturday was all about, just look at what everybody else did once Larry Johnson was off to the races on his 78-yard touchdown run -- they joined him. Everybody, from Mills to big Gus Felder, chased him down and had an arm around him.

It was about joy, something so pure no two-second postgame sound bite could ever capture. Something that everyone in Beaver Stadium could get a piece of but couldn't call their own. They lacked the battle scars of two losing seasons. They didn't have the stigma of failures.

No, this was a celebration for this team that would never again walk up that tunnel surrounded by screaming students trying their best to bleed with them. This was a celebration well-earned.