ORLANDO, Fla. -- Big men were crying on the chalk space where they'd lived out their biggest dreams and disappointments.

Only seconds after the final whistle, the smaller men with cameras and lights were inches from their face, trying to capture every bit of the failure and pain. The producers knew there was a story for America's heartstrings in each one of those tears.

How at least one of those big men didn't smash one of those cameras into a thousand pieces on the field, I'll never know.

Inside, in a half-filled reception room with more cameras and lights and tape recorders, came Anthony Adams to sit at a dais while Penn State coach Joe Paterno took the last of the reporters' questions.

Adams looked big sitting sideways in that folding chair, which looked as if it wouldn't hold him. He was crying, just a little, picking at the remaining bits of athletic tape wrapped around his right ring finger just for something to do. He was still wearing his uniform pants. There were only two questions he had to answer, one about Auburn's running back and one about the end.

"You can [look at the positives] but everybody always remembers the last thing that you do, that's what my coach always says, regardless of how good you do, everybody's always going to remember the negative, so everybody's always going to remember the final score was 13-9," the senior defensive tackle said.

What else was he supposed to say? He didn't write a speech to lose, none of them did. They figured they would be interviewed following the game holding up "CAPITAL ONE BOWL CHAMPION" T-shirts.

But you can't give the speech about how great it was to go out on top if you lose. Regardless of what Larry Johnson or Jimmy Kennedy might have said, that sense of defeat was what was running through most of the Nittany Lions' minds.

"There was a lot of teary eyes out there," said senior center Joe Iorio. "It was hard to see a lot."

The game never felt right from the beginning. Maybe it was how long it had been since Penn State had last played in the tropics. Or maybe they just weren't used to the position of marquee team they worked so hard to reestablish.

From the Lions' first botched offensive series to Zack Mills' futility late -- the Nits just never had that mythical "it" on Jan. 1. Whether they weren't prepared or were out-coached or just didn't perform, we'll never know for sure.

Perhaps the loss galvanizes the underclassmen for a run next year despite losing most of both lines and a 2,000-yard rusher. Maybe it tears them apart amidst a quarterback controversy and battles for the newly available starting spots. They could be champions or they could be chumps; only time will tell.

But that's still months away and too quickly forgets about the team that brought 110,000 people to their feet in September, let people hope for a Big Ten title in October, plowed over everyone in November and sparked a Heisman watch in December. It forgets those that let those nameless jerseys mean something besides memories and ghosts.

By the time Adams had left the press room, all those kids in the miniature Citrus Bowl student section that stood shocked and silent as Auburn was parading its orange flag victoriously in front of its fan section, had left to go try salvage the last of the Florida vacation. All that remained now were the guys who bled for one another and cried for one another, too.

On his way to the locker room, Adams found his mother's arms. As his family looked on, she told him she was proud of him.

She could have added that regardless of what Adams thought, he and his teammates would be remembered for something besides the final score. This was the team that decided to stop being pathetic, to stand up and be proud, to hold its head up again. This was a team that said it was more than just a relic and a nostalgia trip for alumni.

And this was a team that deserved a better ending.