Where are you, Fran Ganter?

During the most tumultuous year in the Penn State football program's storied history, the man who everyone assumes will eventually be handed the reigns has been quite noticeably silent.

When The Daily Collegian wanted to publish a story about Sean McHugh overcoming his off-the-field struggles, it sought comment from Ganter, who is reportedly close to the fullback and also had to deal with a tragedy of his own last summer when his wife passed away.

Ganter refused comment for the story.

It doesn't make much sense. All Ganter had to do was talk a little about how hard McHugh has worked and how much he has had to deal with. It's the type of stuff coaches should love to talk about.

Not this time.

The biggest noise from Ganter this season was something only those on the sideline could have heard. Sports Illustrated reported that Ganter threw his headset to the ground and yelled "That's a [expletive] play!" after Michael Robinson, a right-handed quarterback, rolled left on a fourth-and-three play late in the still-winnable Minnesota game and ended up throwing the ball away.

The play was apparently called by Jay Paterno. Ganter's reaction was far from the most extreme. Many Penn State fans said, "That was a [expletive] [expletive] call."

Ganter is the loyal assistant, the man who turned down chances to become a head coach elsewhere because he believed in the Penn State way.

Jay Paterno is the chosen son, the one who's supposed to carry on the family name.

They are currently the two main cogs in a much-maligned play calling by committee approach the Lions have employed this year to absolutely no success.

But there's something deeper to all this. Something you can see in Ganter's eyes when the cameras focus in, which they do more than they ever have previously. Televised Penn State games have become more about the action on the sideline as of late. Everyone seems to be waiting for something to explode right there on the field.

It won't happen. If there's one thing Paterno still excels at, it's keeping everything in-house and behind closed doors. Including any strenuous relationships between important members of the staff.

So Ganter simmers. The look you see in Ganter's eye on TV is in too many Penn State eyes this year.

It is defeat.

It is resignation.

And it is surreal that it has come to this.

Wouldn't you love to know what Ganter thinks about all this Joe Must Go talk? Wouldn't you love to hear his answers to the questions Paterno keeps dodging? Why Robinson at tailback? Why aren't the young wide receivers stepping up? Why have top-notch offensive line recruits failed to develop into even adequate Big Ten players?

Ganter's got plenty of friends. And plenty of those friends are in high places, like former players in powerful positions for NFL team. If it weren't for his two kids on the team, maybe Ganter would be calling those friends to see about getting out of this mess.

Would you want to be the one to take over for Paterno?

Take over a program on life-support from a man who, according to many recent columns, has done more for this university than anyone before him?

Become the next Bill Guthridge, a carry-over who "earned" his position through "loyalty," a stop-plug before the true rebuilding begins?

A pawn in a power struggle between those who want to honor Paterno's legacy and those who want to start anew?

Maybe that's what we're to read from all this silence. Maybe Fran Ganter understands what is going on here. Maybe he has realized that Paterno simply can not and will not leave football. Maybe Ganter knows he will get older and older while a program he has given over 30 years of his life to deteriorates for everyone to see.

Even after those 30 years, Ganter isn't calling his own plays.

Ganter's not out in the spotlight, taking some of the heat for this stretch. Paterno very nobly and egotistically would rather handle all that himself.

As fans call for Kirk Ferentz, Steve Spurrier and other big-name coaches, Ganter goes to work everyday trying to fix one of the worst offenses in the country, even though Paterno seemingly doesn't have enough faith to let him do so.

Where are you, Fran Ganter?

Or maybe the question is this: Are you better off somewhere other than here, Fran Ganter?