Penn State 0 Perverts 100

The piling on of Joe Paterno by the media, and pundits is exhaustive and speaks to how the main stream media has become nothing more than a herd of zombie journalists wandering the barren internet for the next "big story".

To even blog about Penn State's troubles up would be pointless, the facts will come out and hopefully the truth about what Joe Paterno knew and didn't know as well.

But if it wasn't Joe Pa then someone else knew, there is always someone who knew. Maybe they heard, they saw, they suspected, or they through a process of elimination, by removing all of the "no way did I just see what I saw" and the discounting of the in your face facts, came to the realization that Coach Sandusky was not only creepy but also a criminal.

I'm not talking about just adults, but the children who knew as well.

In middle school, my 6th, 7th and 8th grade years were a haze of youth except the very small amount of time I spent with a coach who I knew was creepy and weird. Now 30 years later I realize he was a pervert and more than likely also a pedophile.

I was fortunate he didn't like me, but there were other boys he liked; maybe too much.

30 years is along time but I remember that he took great pleasure in inspecting for athletic supports things we kids called jockstraps, nut nests and ball bags. Today compression shorts are the more attractive answer.

Dressed in our gym uniforms we would line up each day and "Coach" would walk the line and randomly yank down our shorts and underwear. If you forgot your jockstrap, lost it or in my case hated the damn thing and refused to wear it and he got what he called the "wiener surprise" and he'd get down on he's knees and pretend to look for your jockstrap.

Showers, like with Sandusky were also a favorite of the "Coach". He would stand in the shower area fully dressed, while 30 boys hurried around naked. He used a towel to make sure everyone had "showered properly" and to help "motivate" those who were a little slow. For 3 years I don't think I ever took a shower at school that lasted more than 3 seconds. Most of my showers consisted of wetting down my hair at the drinking fountain and sprinting for my locker.

The Coach didn't like me, and never gave me as much as a hello. But he was fond of some of the boys and they were treated special. They had access to his office and he gave them things like soft drinks, and snacks. They always got the best and newest equipment, the best activities and often stood with the coach on the sidelines as the rest of us ran laps. Kids who were perceived to be good at sports went on "special" field trips and overnight "sports camps" that I was never invited.

Over 3 years I saw a lot of abuse, the kind that by today's standards would mean instant termination, but 30 years ago only amounted sick, twisted hazing.

The shower gauntlet, where he encouraged boys to grab each other, and the devils crawl were he selected boys to be striped or their short and spanked by other boys as they crawled between each others legs, which at the time struck me as odd but never so much that I told my parents.

What he did with those special kids when the office door closed I couldn't tell you. But I never really wanted to know either.

Of all the coaches, teachers, boy scout leaders, priests and instructors I've ever meet as a kid, he is the only one that creeped me out to the point of dreading going to gym class almost to the point of being sick.

Jerry Sandusky's interview with Bob Costas gave me that same pit of my stomach uneasy feeling.

I expect that the truth will one day come out.