I’ve never coached in the NFL.
Really don’t want to coach pro athletes. I can’t see the fun or the sense of accomplishment in that, really.
That doesn’t mean that I can’t be outraged by the actions of Bobby Petrino. Not as a sports fan but as a coach and a member of at least one of the associations he belongs to.
I don’t want to go on about him. He’s not worth it as a coach. I’m more stunned that he could get a job.
If you don’t know, Bobby Petrino walked out on his contract with the Atlanta Falcons. He lasted 13 games. The day he walked out he took another job. Coaching the Arkansas Razorbacks.
If I were an alumnus I’d be raising hell with the athletic director. I don’t believe Arkansas are so obsessed with winning that they’d throw pride out the door. That they’d trust the young men of their institution to a man who would apparently desert them at the slightest whim.
Thing is that Petrino immediately mad me think of another coach who was some what under the gun this year: Joe Paterno.
I never played for Paterno. I enjoyed watching him coach twice. Once when he hammered USC in some bowl and once when we hammered him at the Colosseum.
He’s got class. In victory and defeat. He spoke kindly, forcefully, and without evocation both times. He was polite and smelled like you wished your dad smelt on Christmas morning.
As a coach he’s survived the 3 yards and a cloud of dust to move into the aerial circus years and now into the indomitable defense years. He’s done so without a blemish. No NCAA infractions, most of his students got their degrees. More than a few became Hall Of Famers in the NFL.
If you ever visit State College one of the things you notice is that there are a lot of buildings named Paterno. Not as a tribute to him but because he donated the money to build them – libraries, not Athletic Centers, class rooms, not gymnasiums.
He said he wanted to give something back to the institution that had given him so much.
Sometime ago an NFL team, I forget which one, offered Paterno 3 million dollars a year to coach for them.
His response was something like, “If your not saving lives there’s nothing a man can do that’s worth a million bucks a year,” and he turned it down flat.
If you get to the practice field you’ll be surprised to see an awful lot of High School coaches. They’re always welcome. Sometimes he puts them to work, sometimes he or his staff teach them.
He loves this game and delights in what he learns from it.
I think that he and Eddie Robinson are the two greatest men to ever teach this game.
I’m cynical enough to be intrigued. Someone bought a big court case to force Penn State to reveal Paterno’s salary.
Now a days I’m always ready to have my drams crushed, and maybe the idol had clay feet after all.
After a lot of vourt room tantrums they finally gave up the number.
Joe Paterno makes $500,000 a year.
Its a handsome salary but doesn’t much compare to the millions Lou Saban is pulling down at Alabama, or the millions Bobby Petrino is getting from Arkansas.
He’s donated millions of dollars back to the people who pay him. He’s raised his family and raised young men to go out into the world with the same firm but gentle hand and eye.
There’s an argument for yin and yang.
I’m doing fine. Getting excited about Christmas. Why not. I don’t need presents galore to enjoy the day.
I regret not being able to give presents, but that a minor quibble that might have more to do with my pride than with altruism.
I wish my puppy and I were going to see kids this year. We’ll be fine.
My friend had her dream job interview today. It must have gone well as she had some very scant reasons why she wasn’t a shoo-in.
She should be a shoo-in.
Put up more decorations that only my puppy and I noticed. Lit the tree so my puppy could lie there in the dark and admire it. Although she does seem concerned that its not surrounded with good smelling packages. She’s being so good. She remembers Santa Claus Is Watchin’ You by Ray Stevens so she wouldn’t be bad.
Things are good enough here now to not mind the pains I’ve had. I went three days, almost, with no pain pills, before I caved in.