Joe Paterno and Lance Armstrong

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.”