Yesterday, as Penn State officials announced the hiring of a guy they passed over for Jerry Dunn a decade ago, athletic director Tim Curley continued the disturbing trend of not commenting on the Anwar Phillips situation.
State College bureau Associated Press writer Dan Lewerenz asked Curley when the news of Phillips' suspension reached his office. Curley, wanting only to discuss the joyous hiring of Ed DeChellis, was a bit shocked at the question.
Then he said that the university would be releasing a statement on the matter later in the day.
University president Graham Spanier also told Lewerenz that an official statement was forthcoming.
And, just so there could be some icing on this pass-the-blame cake, members of the sports information department confirmed that the mystical statement was on its way.
Needless to say, it never arrived.
Perhaps, if somebody gets around to it, something will be released today. Perhaps, if the university suddenly found some sense, the statement will explain how it came to be that a man who admitted to having sex with a woman against her will was allowed to wear the hallowed Blue and White. Or, perhaps things will continue as they have and nothing will be resolved.
Right now, while buildings blow up for real on our television screens, we can't help but look to spring football practice and the hope it brings for something simple.
Yet we are left with no other choice, given the recent turbulence around the situation, than to question the moral and ethical values of a man who for so long stood out as the paragon of goodness and virtue.
Could there be a worse time than now to doubt the whole structure of what's right and what's wrong and whether or not even Joe Paterno has a grasp on the difference?
The Phillips case, boiled down to its most important level, has already profoundly changed the lives of two college students forever.
That much we know for sure. Everything else, it seems, is speculation.
But at the very least, what has transpired between the early hours of Nov. 12 and today marks a frightening and distinct change in the way Penn State football operates and how it should be perceived not only by fans around the country, but by those that swill beers, grill burgers and praise Paterno on rosy fall Saturday afternoons in Happy Valley.
To think that Paterno didn't know every little detail of the Judicial Affairs case is to be simply naïve. Joe Paterno, even at the age of 76, controls every facet of the Penn State football program like a -- gasp! -- dictator. And he has apparently decided that he can do no wrong.
The only logical explanation for why Paterno would allow Phillips to play is that the old coach was sticking with what has worked recently.
In the Rashard Casey and R.J. Luke/T.C. Cosby cases, Paterno stood by his players all the way until all three were exonerated from assault charges.
In both cases, Paterno came out looking like a wise old benevolent king with the foresight to wait for hindsight to clear everything.
But the Phillips situation isn't about a fight outside a bar or frat house. Phillips may very well be found innocent. In fact, the lawyers of State College scrambled for the right to defend him last week, knowing full well that they'd have a good chance of winning this high-profile case involving a football player in Centre County.
Whether or not Phillips is found guilty has nothing to do with the slow destruction of what we've always held most dear about this program: Its sanctity.
Since when is a kid good enough to play just because the legal system doesn't find him guilty?
Penn State kids used to live up to a higher standard. They didn't put themselves in positions that could dishonor the team. Now, Paterno just waits for a lawyer to work his magic. We thought some virtues were rock-solid and timeless.
Maybe we were wrong.
