His thick glasses and Italian nose are on television, posters and the logo of an eatery in the HUB-Robeson Center. These icons across campus and beyond give many fans a hard time imagining a Penn State football game without the "joe-pa-ter-no" chants.

But that's a strong possibility.

Joe Paterno's contract is set to expire after next season, and the 81-year-old coach hasn't told the university whether he will roll up his pant legs for another season.

Of course, Nittany Lions are fond of the man they've watched on the sidelines for the last 42 years, but they're also attached to a part of the blue-and-white culture that extends beyond a branch of the library and the bronze statue outside Beaver Stadium.

On the social-networking Web site Facebook, Paterno is mentioned in more than 100 groups, including "F--- Chuck Norris, PSU has Joepa," "I would donate my left leg to Joepa," "Joepa will outlive my children," and the creepy "I'd watch JoePa have sex with my mom."

Many believe that his career shouldn't end with football. One group would like to see Paterno host The Price is Right, and 15 Facebook users want him to be President of the United States.

And Paterno is more than mere flesh and bones. He's a key chain, a bobble head, a coffee mug and a bendable figure at the Student Book Store, 330 E. College Ave.

The store window also displays a cardboard cut-out of the famous coach, and further down the street, the workers inside Cereality, 134 W. College Ave., decorated one of these cut-outs with a blue hat and scarf.

His famous black spikes are also featured on blue T-shirts above the words "The Best To Walk The Sidelines." Don't forget the Orange Bowl shirts with JoePa holding a big bowl of fruit or the T-shirts sold before the Notre Dame game that said, "You've got Jesus, We've got JoePa."

A few years ago, his face was even painted on the windows of Café 210 West, 210 W. College Ave., as Santa Claus in a sleigh pulled by reindeer named Michael Robinson and Paul Posluszny.

When Paterno retires, Creamery supervisor Veronica Brown said the store would still dip cones of Peachy Paterno ice cream. "We still make Sandusky Blitz, even though he's no longer coaching," she said.

But the new coach might not receive his own flavor right away, said Creamery worker Lauren Segal. "Getting your own flavor is an honor," she said.

If a different head coach ran out of the tunnel with the football team, some students said they opposed changing the name of the camp outside Beaver Stadium, where people pitch tents and sleep (a little) the week leading up to a home football game for better seats.

"He's a living legend and the father of our team," said Matt Mellanby (junior-hotel, restaurant and institutional management), who camped out in Paternoville for last year's Ohio State game. "Of course the name should stay the same."

Doug Boozer (junior-communications) said he stayed in Paternoville for a couple games and felt that a different name would change the meaning of the event.

"It wouldn't mean the same thing if it was called 'Smithville' or named after someone else," Boozer said. "The name wouldn't bring all the things to mind that 'Paterno' stands for. He's our football team and part of our school and always will be."

When searching for a new coach, the university administration should look for someone who fits into this blue-and-white culture.

The classified ad should say something like, "New coach needed. Must be someone versatile enough to kick Chuck Norris' booty and host The Price is Right. Name must be four syllables to allow for a proper stadium chant. Should know what kind of ice cream will best represent personality. Should look good as a bobble head. Must not be offended that students' camp will remain named for predecessor."

When Penn State finally finds someone who meets these requirements, Lions fans will sit in Beaver Stadium, wave pom-poms and curse the wide receivers and the quarterback who can't complete a pass.

But, most of all, they will notice the coach's absence of thick glasses, rolled-up pant legs and heavy Brooklyn accent.