Today is the first anniversary of the death of Joe Paterno,
a man whose failings, revealed in the final months of his life, erased a
reputation built over a lifetime. The issue of image as opposed to substance, seems
more relevant than ever. We are only five days removed from Lance Armstrong’s
confession to Oprah that he was all image, and no substance. He was just
another rider violating the rules in a sport where, in essence, nearly everyone
violates the rules.
His manufactured image is that of a heroic cancer survivor. In
truth, all of his victories were tainted; his titles have been stripped. In
truth he is just a guy who had cancer and never won a major race after that
point in time. Whether Armstrong used EPO to win races, to support his
foundation, or to create a heroic image of himself really doesn’t matter. To me
the saddest parts of the Armstrong travesty are the lies and lawsuits aimed at
people who dared to tarnish the phony image of “the one honest cyclist” in a
tainted sport.
“Everyone” may cheat and use drugs in cycling. Not everyone goes
out to destroy other people who shout that the emperor has no clothes. Lance
Armstrong looks the part of a handsome hero, and the image has enabled him to get away
with a great deal. To me, it’s the vindictiveness with which he went after his
detractors, more than the drug use, or the titles albeit tainted) that defines Armstrong as a person.
While Armstrong’s lies enriched him, the lies were in a good
cause. As a physician I have numerous patients who wore their yellow “Livestrong”
bracelets with pride, symbolic of their ability to bounce back. I doubt that
Armstrong’s admissions make them feel that recovery is impossible. After all,
if they could become competitive athletes, even if they couldn’t win without
cheating, that would be a substantial win. And, just as Armstrong’s legion of
followers are willing to admire the good in the man, there are tons of Penn
State alumni who still need to see the good in Joe Paterno, and with Paterno,
as in all of us, there is good and bad.
Having helped my wife with her doctoral dissertation on the
topic of abuse, and having written a novel about a woman who is raped and uses
the notoriety to create a foundation to help other victims – and make herself a
media superstar in the process – I followed the Paterno story with great
interest. On the anniversary of JoePa’s death, I offer a few observations, none
of which are original or profound. Athletic programs should not exist just so
the alumni and fans have something for which to cheer. They should exist because they can
have a positive impact on the students who come into the program. Whether we
call that building character or creating a sense of teamwork doesn’t matter. When
an athletic program becomes counter-productive because people in the program
are more concerned with image (“We run a clean program.”) than they are with
substance (“We are enabling a pedophile.”), that is a disaster beyond measure.
The serious points have been made elsewhere and are obvious.
Sex abuse is bad. We should prevent it if we can. The perpetrators need to be punished. Victims need our
sympathy.
However, to keep the mood from this posting from being
totally depressing, I want to conclude with two comments that would have been
made by my character, Amibeth, if only one of my novels had been set in the
period of 2011-2012.
Having a “clean” program does not mean allowing a suspected
to pedophile to soap up and shower with children.
Penn State debated whether or not to remove the Paterno
statue. They finally had the decency to repudiate his phony image of integrity and
place it in storage. However, while the debate was ongoing, someone advanced an
idea that was as insightful as it was sad. Instead of removing the statue, someone
suggested that Penn State should leave it up, but should rotate it one hundred
and eighty degrees so that, symbolically, Paterno would be remembered not as a
leader but for “looking the other way.”
