Kenny Jackson was just a ballplayer in yesteryear's society.

He didn't run through Beaver Stadium's tunnel before a mob of 109,000-plus fans. He played on TV maybe twice a year. Even as Penn State's first All-America wideout in 1982 and 1983, Jackson said he felt like a student who just wore cleats on Saturday.

Of course, when the sneakers were back on, players became college kids again. And like college students, they stepped into trouble. Whether it was a drink at a frat or a fight at a bar, Jackson saw football players break rules.

But Joe Paterno could call up the police station, Jackson said, and tell officers, "Hey, this knucklehead made a mistake" before it hit the legal system. Cover ups? No, but the head coach handled most punishments from his office.

National newspapers knew little. Sports talk radio remained hush. The Internet barely existed.

A world without rule-breakers has never existed, but there once was a time when boys would be boys, and it wasn't breaking news.

"You're an entertainer now. You are not a ballplayer," Jackson said from his State College home. "Don't think you can come here and play football and that is it. People are making millions off of you.

"You discuss it. You can't run from it. Don't hide from it. Joe's telling them that. You cannot get away with this anymore."

The names of current football players Chris Baker, Navorro Bowman and Knowledge Timmons are recycled through headlines because of an Oct. 7 fight in the HUB-Robeson Center. All three players have been suspended from the team indefinitely.

Add to Penn State's 2007 rap sheet an off-campus fight in April that police say involved starting safety Anthony Scirrotto and Baker. Multiple players have received underage drinking citations.

Court documents indicate that tailback Austin Scott went to a bar two nights before a game, and he was charged with rape on Oct. 12 related to incidents stemming from that night. Scott was later kicked off the team for undisclosed reasons.

The offseason brought about more chatter, especially from second-guessers who questioned whether Paterno fairly disciplined the wrongdoers. Baker, Bowman, Timmons and Scott are gone, but Scirrotto started every game on his way to taking a plea deal on Feb. 14.

Joan Flowers, who helped raise Timmons and calls herself his aunt, admitted he isn't "an angel by a long shot," referring to Timmons' prior police encounters at Penn State, but questioned why Scirrotto wasn't equally penalized.

Police said Timmons flipped over furniture while looking for his iPhone after the HUB fight. Judicial Affairs chose not to expel Timmons, opting instead for probation until graduation and banishment from on-campus living.

"Scirrotto ain't missing none; he didn't miss any games," Flowers told The Daily Collegian on Jan. 27. " ... Yet they're treating Knowledge like he's Michael Vick and he's got the dogs in the backyard."

Jackson doesn't know the suspended players but would never question Paterno's judgment. He wouldn't dare say the 81-year-old coach has lost control over his players, either, or that today's youth is less mature than when he played.

The main difference now is that punishments are debated both internally and publicly through message boards, cell phone text messages and word of mouth. In today's world, it's hard for Paterno to stay tied to players whose mistakes line the front page.

"It is not even fair for him to say, 'OK, when they leave me, go to class, go out at night, meet with their friends. How much can I control?' " Jackson said. "These kids have more responsibilities than ever. You are a celebrity in the true sense of the word.

"These could be no-name guys. They are not household names, but we are making them."

Under the brightest light

Football players' names routinely enter side conversations -- from the Penn State student to the alumnus at the dinner table following a 9-to-5 workday.

Every compliment after a player's name, whether it's a big play or a high GPA, adds to Paterno's tradition of "Success with Honor." On the contrary, when an athlete feels typecast as a "thug," as Baker felt the media portrayed him, such criticism diminishes that tradition.

To begin this past season, Paterno made players pick up trash at Beaver Stadium so the public wouldn't label them "hoodlums" after April's fight.

Wide receiver Chris Bell and defensive tackle Phil Taylor -- whom, police say, along with up to 18 teammates, were present at the HUB fight -- were temporarily suspended for their mistakes. They won't be allowed back until "their academic situation improves and any off-the-field issues are behind them," according to a statement issued by the team last month.

It's swift action, somewhat different from even a few years ago. Former cornerback Anwar Phillips played in the 2003 Capital One Bowl after receiving a two-semester expulsion following allegations that he assaulted a female student. A jury acquitted Phillips in the coming fall.

In 2000, Paterno started quarterback Rashard Casey despite allegations that he assaulted an off-duty police officer in Hoboken, N.J. Casey and Paterno were vindicated when all charges were dismissed.

Jay Paterno, Penn State's quarterbacks coach, said he had no trouble sticking by Casey because he considered the signal caller to be an "honest and upfront kid."

Some might have prematurely condemned Casey while others wondered how the Nittany Lions could stick a quarterback in the lineup when he faced charges more destructive than a blindside sack.

But an answer never comes from Jay Paterno. That intricate decision -- who stays and who goes -- is solely left to the elder Paterno.

"Everybody's different," Jay Paterno said. "So there is no blanket way you can know. It's just one of those things Joe has to do case-by-case. It's one of those things Joe handles."

Old-school coaches like Paterno are adjusting to how quickly a program's image stains. Off-the-field conduct lingers in a media-driven society, enough so that Big Ten officials invited Malcolm Moran, Penn State's Knight Chair for Sports Journalism, to a Feb. 25 meeting to discuss how news media covers bad behavior.

From Moran's view, a consciousness of college athletes' improprieties spawned in 1970 when Nebraska tailback Johnny "The Jet" Rodgers robbed a gas station, received two year's probation, but wasn't kicked off the team. The Cornhuskers' head coach at the time, Bob Devaney, defended Rodgers, a star return man who won the Heisman Trophy in 1972.

Since then, the public's eye on athletics has sharpened. Former Nebraska coach Tom Osborne took criticism in 1995 for only temporarily suspending running back Lawrence Phillips from the team after he was accused of assaulting his ex-girlfriend.

"The dominant theme is the media's awareness over time that these are not just teams, but programs representing an educational institution," Moran said. "These are the types of stories that don't go away quietly. ... The credibility of the overall institution is at stake if an illegal or inappropriate activity is going on."

When Jackson joined Paterno's coaching staff in 1993, he mentored one high-profile hard case, wideout Bobby Engram, who spent the prior season off the team with senior wideout Rick Sayles after being accused of stealing a stereo.

Yet Paterno doesn't own a big rulebook, Jackson said, so the severity of the crime didn't dictate Engram's sentence. Instead, Paterno sat Engram down, saw no pattern of delinquency and pinned the mistake on a bad state-of-mind. Here was a young man who had lost his father about a year earlier.

The pre-blog pardon allowed Engram to get away, work at the Tavern Restaurant in downtown State College and go to school. Eventually, the community forgave Engram, who Jackson said is "a wonderful human being." Engram stayed clean and made the NFL.

Sayles, on the other hand, never returned to the team because he no longer had the desire to play for Paterno. He said he was too bitter, too vilified by the media, too enraged by Paterno's silence on his behalf. Sayles knows all players cannot be treated fairly, and some will feel like they have "gotten the short stick."

It was too easy for Paterno to get rid of him, though, Sayles said, because he was the "bad kid from a bad area" of McKeesport, Pa., while Engram supposedly had a more wholesome upbringing in Camden, S.C.

Still, Sayles graduated with a degree in psychology and currently runs a charity called Penn's Civilians for underprivileged youth. At Penn State's football fantasy camps, you can find Sayles coaching.

His only remaining doubts about his punishment center around Paterno. Sayles said he never sat down with the coach. He didn't even get a lecture. Engram got a phone call from Paterno while in prison, but Sayles says he didn't. He felt like the sacrifice as Engram continued on.

Now, with the number of players getting in trouble, Sayles can't help but think today's hip-hop generation is more difficult to control, and Paterno isn't a person who can relate to them.

"If you're not keeping these things under the radar, you force Joe to make a decision. If Joe had it his way, he'd probably be slapping kids in the mouth," Sayles said with a laugh.

"I honestly believe that Coach Paterno cares about all of his athletes. He's a father, but he's also a general at the same time. But this is a different breed of people. And I won't be the first person to say this, but it's getting close to the sunset for him."

Actually, Sayles remembers Paterno saying he'd only coach for about "another three or four years" during recruiting talks. That was almost two decades ago.

Nowadays, Jackson wonders if even a superstar like Engram could have dodged character questions from every media outlet in the country. And even if Paterno is willing to lose his name for a player, Jackson wonders if Paterno could show the same mercy for a "careless mistake" today.

"We all make mistakes," Jackson said. "And I know Joe is preaching every day, but he cannot protect them.

"Graham Spanier can't. The police department can't. Because you guys [the media] are going to be on it. Your department, they are going to be on it. Your editors are going to be on it. The information is going to move. Boom!"

Baker, who said he felt his character was "trashed" by the media attention, also said he felt unduly punished before being cleared of all school-related charges by Judicial Affairs on March 5.

"It's always going to be a distraction because we're Penn State football players, and everything we do is going to be in the limelight and talked about a lot," Baker told The Daily Collegian. "But I don't think it was fair for me to get kicked off the team because if I'm a distraction, there are a whole lot of people who are a distraction as far as people getting DUIs and other people getting into fights and other stuff that happens."

Paterno was within his rights, however. He can suspend a player for disciplinary reasons, and if a player is "found to have engaged in misconduct by the university's regular student disciplinary authority," as NCAA guidelines state, a coach can even terminate the player's scholarship.

Baker was suspended but has not had his scholarship revoked.

The Big Ten also has no role in determining if a player can be excused from a member school, conference spokesman Scott Chipman said. Most universities in the conference hold the same policies as Penn State, so head coaches have the power to suspend or excuse accused players before Judicial Affairs makes a ruling.

Ohio State's Office of Judicial Affairs Director Andrea Goldblum said athletic programs and her department primarily act independently from one another. They might consult with each other, for example, if Judicial Affairs believes an athlete is a danger to the community and must be removed.

Ervin Cox, an assistant dean at Wisconsin, cited in an e-mail one case where a football player did not travel because his office considered the athlete's behavior "incompatible with representing the University."

"I have seen star grad students suspended when a faculty member did not want them suspended," Cox wrote.

"If coaches and others can affect a disciplinary case's outcome, then the whole integrity of the process is at stake."

Open for criticism

As coaches brace for bad news to hit the newswire, their only stopgap is to promptly respond. Here are a few recent examples, according to The Associated Press:

* Some 23 Florida State players were implicated in a cheating scandal in December. Bobby Bowden coached the bowl game without almost a third of his roster.

* Oklahoma State tight end Brandon Pettigrew was charged in January with elbowing a police officer. Mike Gundy said his player made a "dumb decision" but did not suspend him because Gundy said he is "not in position to be the judge."

* Two Syracuse football players were charged with breaking into a sports equipment room in early March. Greg Robinson, in a short statement, said he "will handle the matter appropriately internally."

Whether it's just action, speaking out or trying to keep everything in-house, today's coaches master media damage control.

Giving too many second chances to players brings a coach's standards into question. But if the coaches stiffen punishments, they risk being labeled tyrants.

Paterno has been holding his stance for ages. There used to be a strict no-drinking policy, which, of course, wasn't followed to the letter.

In 1967, defensive end Mike McBath and two other players sat down at an airport bar after beating Miami on the road.

"By bad luck, who was it that walks up but Joe," McBath said. "He tells us to meet in his office the next day. He says he is going to throw our fate over to the team."

What gets lost in the story, McBath jokes, is he, quarterback Tom Sherman and guard Jim Kollar were all 21.

During a meeting, the team found the blunder more hilarious than shameful. Amid players' joking, McBath recalls Paterno losing his patience, and the then-second-year coach kicking down the door in disgust and saying, "That's it. It's my team. I'm in charge. I'll decide."

Only Kollar was kicked off the team, because he had broken a team rule once before. McBath would go on to play in the NFL for the Buffalo Bills and barely reminisces about such a "minor moment" in his life, he said.

Moreover, McBath doubts if any crimes committed by this year's Penn State squad are worse than what his teammates did. There were fights back in his day, too, and such male violence, he says, goes back to "the beginning of time."

"Let's just say a kid gets in a fight. What's the big deal?" McBath said. "If a kid gets caught drinking? Big deal. Did he kill anyone riding down the street? No. Should he have been drinking? Probably not. But kicked off the team? Come on."

Cornerback Willie Harriott, tight end Andrew Quarless, punter Ryan Breen and tailback Joe Suhey were caught drinking underage last year, according to police reports. Quarless spent two full games on the sideline and was indefinitely suspended from the team on March 4. Two days later, he was charged with DUI.

McBath, a senior vice president of investments at Paine Webber and a founding owner of the Arena football League with the Orlando Predators, assumed Paterno's punishment of Kollar was a young coach trying to establish himself. Today, Paterno can't go without punishing players because of a "sensitivity" backlash, McBath said.

Glen Macnow, a former writer for The Philadelphia Inquirer and on-air host for 610 WIP, said reporters used to ignore many of these off-the-field stories. It's inevitable that college kids aren't always so politically correct, so reporters had to approach student-athletes' antics mercifully, Macnow said.

"They had a little bit more discretion back then. I think it was better," he added. "Not to cover anything up, but to realize that these were college kids and they were going to do stupid things."

Penn State has been increasing underage drinking statistics, Jay Paterno said, perhaps because of more enforcement by the State College police, as opposed to Ohio State, where metropolitan police have "more on their plate and would rather not spend time bookin' someone for a little skirmish downtown."

While on the Penn State football team in 1987, Jay Paterno saw a few players get in a frat-house fight. Instead of writing up a lengthy report, he said, the police split up the offenders and resolved the incident without any fanfare.

"They basically put them in the car, drove them home and said, 'Sleep it off,' " Jay Paterno told a sports journalism class on Feb. 19. "Now, you see a fight, you've got felony charges, you're going to trial. It's all over the place."

And football players will always be looked at "as the bully," Jackson said. Someone at a bar could yell something racist, Jackson said, and if he threw a punch, "the other guy" wouldn't be the story.

He wouldn't even expect people to remember his name, but when Jackson and ex-Penn State football players Michael Robinson and wideout Bryant Johnson walked into ESPN the Magazine's headquarters more than a month ago, cameras got in their faces.

That reminded Jackson why current New York Giants coach Tom Coughlin, his first receivers coach with the Philadelphia Eagles, worried when his players weren't early to practice.

Coaches can only go so far to protect players from saying or doing something that could damage their reputations. Even Paterno reportedly lost his cool this past year with his infamous "road rage" incident in October.

But a celebrity has little room for error, regardless of age.

"It's not that Joe's got bad kids. I don't believe that," Jackson said. "But I think this is a great learning lesson for the whole team, coaching staff included. They are in the entertainment business; they will be scrutinized and looked at.

"If you don't want to deal with it, then get out of it."

Collegian staff writers Mark Viera and Andrew Wible contributed to this report.