Ralph Waldo Emerson once said that "fame is proof that the people are gullible."
And as any college football fan can tell you, nothing breeds gullibility like spring practice.
Every year around this time, Happy Valley is graced with a beautiful and fleeting variety of celebrity, the Blue-White "all-star."
These gridiron equivalents of the one-hit wonder explode on one sunny, April afternoon to the delight of the pundits and fans alike, but more often than not, lose their brilliance like some kind of football flash powder.
There is really no one to blame for this phenomenon except for writers like myself and the fans for whom the Blue-White game provides the only glimpse of Penn State football they will see before the Nittany Lions take the field next fall against South Florida.
Nevertheless, it is important for the Penn State nation, and for that matter, the writers, to realize that the Blue-White game is nothing more than a practice, and not a particularly intense one at that.
The Blue-White game is a fabulous Penn State tradition for many reasons, and feeling the Vitamin-D pump through your blood stream after finally getting outside and into Beaver Stadium after a seemingly endless winter is one of the best feelings imaginable.
But looking to the Blue-White game as a way to accurately judge the prospects of next year's team makes about as much sense as the BCS. Not much.
