In all honesty I don't remember my first Penn State football game.

I went to games before I could even talk -- my parents fondly remember the quiet times.

I think my earliest memory is the two-hour drive from Moosic to Happy Valley. My father would pull into the parking lot across from North Halls and I would get out of the car and play with my Transformers, climb trees and just be a kid. We'd share Dr Peppers and hoagies. Somewhere along the line we went to a football game.

I remember watching the drum major do his flips, the Lions inevitably dominating the visiting team, doing the wave, and my father handing me the binoculars so I could look for the man we had really come to see.

It was, and still is, the walk.

There's something about the way Joe Paterno paces the sideline. That was how I could spot him through the binoculars. I didn't pay attention to the rolled-up khakis and white socks -- what fashion sense should a five-year-old have? -- he just seemed to stroll in front of the behemoths behind him.

He was in control.

It was peaceful and reassuring. Like mom's chicken soup when I had a cold.

I never saw big plays back then because the crowd around me would stand up and all I could see were the backs of the people who sat in our section. But, my dad always made sure I saw the coach.

Maybe, he was reassuring to my father too.

But it's all different now.

Now I look at the sideline and I wonder.

Has he lost his touch?

A lot of me says yes.

But how many NCAA football victories do I have?

But does that matter?

There's a big part of me, and I bet a lot of fans feel this way, that will remember how special Paterno was on the day another man leads Penn State out of the tunnel.

And we'll wish Paterno was still there.

I'll remember the icy day in '95 when my brother-in-law and I saw the Lions take on Michigan in a snow-filled Beaver Stadium. When the fans got unruly and threw snowballs at the players it was Paterno who got on the microphone and pleaded with the crowd to behave.

We behaved and the Lions rallied for the victory.

Paterno was more than a coach back then.

He stood for something. His players did things the right way.

I don't know about that now, but let's get something straight while we're at this.

There have always been players who got in trouble, it's just happening more frequently today. Still, they are the exception not the norm. But, by all accounts, Paterno wants his players to do well in class and he hasn't been given enough credit about that recently.

At the same time, Paterno's initial reaction to Tony Johnson's DUI was pretty lame.

I expected more from him. He's supposed to stand for ethics, and there's nothing ethical about a DUI.

Many of us in the media wanted him to apologize.

He did.

His apology should be accepted, but apologies don't make the offenses disappear. He's suspended Johnson for a second game so his actions are speaking louder than his words did.

Back to the field.

The team isn't producing and that's a fact. The records in the last four seasons -- 5-7, 5-6, 9-4 and 2-6 -- say it all.

A lot of fans are saying it's time for Paterno to go. They give many reasons and bring up different names of whom they think could be the savior of this Nittany Lion football team.

Some talk about Paterno losing his legacy. I say his legacy cannot be lost. He was, at one time, the all-time winningest coach in Division I football.

His story is more than wins and losses.

Paterno's legacy is that he taught his players more than football, that he cared about academics, and that he stayed at one college when he could have gotten more money somewhere else.

If he wants to walk away let him.

If not, 338 victories give him the right to coach at least two more years without anyone calling for him to step down.

What if Paterno turns this team around? Will he have added to his legacy? Does that even matter?

I don't have the answers -- I'm not pretending I do -- but I'll support whatever decision he makes when it comes to his retirement.

Even if that's not popular to do now.