The Cup of Christ (or, Beach Football)!!!

As rivalries go, this one has been a lifetime in the making.

Literally, brother vs. brother.

As every chapter is written, with each victory and mirroring defeat, both sides live or die, rise or fall, smile or cry with one another in mind.

What was once a healthy competition, has evolved into an all-consuming disease. Neither side will ever truly satisfy their lust for victory or quench their ultimate thirst for domination. But they must continue to return, if only to deny their opponent even a minor moment of enjoyment.

And so it was this year in the annual battle for the legendary Beach Party Cup. For those of you who don’t know about it–fuck off. For the rest of you out there, read ’em and weep Gray Team.

Not only will we continue to drink from the sacred plastic gold chalice all year long, but you will never taste the goodness of a frothy beverage from its confines again! The Red Team rules! Beach Party ’08 Champs!

Box score:

Grayland Beach Bowl ‘08

Red Shirts 4, Gray Shirts 3 (3OT)
Gray 0 1 2 0 0 0 0— 3
Red 0 0 0 3 0 0 1— 4
Second Quarter
Gray—Parker 10 pass from Pollock.
Third Quarter
Gray—T. Smith 15 pass from Pollock.
Gray—Beck 5 pass from T. Smith.
Fourth Quarter
Red—J. Turnbull 15 pass from T. Turnbull.
Red—J. Turnbull 12 pass from T. Turnbull.
Red—J. Turnbull 8 pass from T. Turnbull.
Third Overtime
Red—Aguilera 7 pass from T. Turnbull.

Favre a J-E-T (reportedly)

There are reports! Finally, reports!

It’s allegedly official. Reports are coming in. Stuart Scott says so. ESPN just ran a full screen graphic saying “Breaking News!”

Write it on your calender. This is the moment: Wednesday August 6, 2008, 11:50 p.m. Eastern Daylight Time. It is being reported by some unnamed, unknown, unidentified, anonymous source that Brett Favre is reportedly headed to the New York Football Jets!

According to ESPN’s Neil Everett, “It’s the news that a nation has been waiting for – a sports nation!”

Really? Where the fuck is the damn sports nation and why am I somehow not affiliated. ‘Cause honestly Holmes, I don’t give a flying fuck where the stupid prima donna bitch is going. And, if I did, I would want a little more than a report. More than innuendo. I’d want fucking fact, yo. So get off the damn TV, go talk to some motherfuckers involved, and come back when you know a little more than an alleged report from FOX news. …

Oh wait: 12:03 a.m. EDT. Neil Everett interrupts his speculative discussion with Chris Carter (after Mark Schlereth weighed in on the news and before Rachel Nichols would sum up how she missed the damn story) to say that, “ESPN’s Michael Smith has confirmed that this trade will go through!”

Now it’s official! No more speculation. No more alleging. Just the true and spectacular conclusion of the Greatest Story Ever Told: The soap operalike selfishness of a 38-year-old quarterback, his ridiculous suitors and a swarm of media foaming at the mouth for both sides every move!

And now it’s done, allegedly, officially and somewhat confirmed. So what’s left? Well, what else but blow out the whole damn show talking to everybody they can think of who has no relation to anybody involved in the trade and absolutely no knowledge of how it occurred! Sweet! If you got their number boys, give ’em a call, yo: Sal Palantonio, Trent Dilfer, Merril Hoge, Trey Wingo, Chris Mortensen …

Wait! Chris Mortensen does the unthinkable. He says he talked to people involved and has uncovered that the deal is not officially official. “It still could be held up,” he says.

Apparently Favre’s not happy (yet again). The great No. 4 apparently wanted to go to Tampa Bay and the Packers did him yet another disservice by trading him to New York! He could still say no! He could sit out! He could … RETIRE!!!

If there is a God up there somewhere. Hear me now please. Tell me what I can do to make amends. Tell me what I can do to make this happen! Almighty overseer of life, please, please let the narcissistic son of a bitch retire. Let him cry. Let him weep. Let him blame everyone on Earth for not loving him enough to want him back. Let him crawl back in his Mississippi hole forever!

But no. No. Of course we’re all not that lucky, 12:45 a.m. EDT: the Packers release a statement:

“Brett has had a long and storied career in Green Bay, and the Packers owe him a tremendous debt of gratitude for everything he accomplished on the field and for the impact he made in the state. It is with some sadness that we make this announcement, but also with the desire for certainty that will allow us to move the team and organization forward in the most positive way possible.

“We respect Brett’s decision that he could no longer remain here as a Packer. But there were certain things we were not willing to do because they were not in the best interest of the team. We were not going to release him nor trade him to a team within the division. When Brett ultimately decided that he still wanted to play football, but not in Green Bay, we told him that we would work to find the best solution for all parties involved. We wish Brett and his family well.

“We appreciate the tremendous passion shown by our fans. We, like them, always will see Brett Favre as a Green Bay Packer and our respect for him never will change. Moving forward, we are dedicated to delivering a successful 2008 season for all Packers fans.”

Well that’s just swell. I’m sure Brett and your fans are just as happy as I am that the motherfucking motherfucker is still in the league and on his way to New York. Sweet.

But wait. What’s ESPN going to do now? How are they gonna react to this historic development? Any more talking heads to roll out of the closet? Oh wait, they found the reel of Top Ten plays in Favre’s career that they put together when he cried like a bitch and retired (And every year for the last five in the offseason when he cried like a bitch at the mere thought of retirement)! Hey wait, they also found a retrospective of the All-Time Passing Leader’s career, (also cobbled together five months ago when the arrogant fuck quit). Dust ’em off! Queue ’em up! Roll ’em! The gunslinger is back! This stuff is gold all over again baby!

And, hey, after that, Linda Cohn and Steve Levy just arrived, get ’em on stage, ask ’em what they think. Who else you got laying around? Anybody?

Football season 2008: Welcome to the beginning – allegedly!

Um, excuse me … I’ll take that now

If you don’t mind.

 

Joe Paterno to top recruit Terrelle Pryor: You might think Penn State’s not for you, but what the heck do you know?

Joe Paterno, the college football coaching Methuselah from Penn State, dusted off his traveling sales routine and took a quixotic run at the nation’s No. 1 recruit today.

Paterno, 81, traveled to Jeannette, Pa., just outside of Pittsburgh, in an 11th-hour bid to recruit quarterback Terrelle Pryor, who has shown great ambivalence about the Nittany Lions and seems headed to Big 10 rival Ohio State.

Once there, Paterno wasted little time in getting his point across:

“I’ve heard you say you don’t think Penn State’s the place for you, and I wanted to ask you this: What the heck do you know, young man?”

Paterno’s approach apparently caught the youngster off guard.

“I’m very humbled that you came to see me in person and all, and I respect all that you’ve accomplished at Penn State, but … ” Pryor stammered before he was interrupted by the surly octogenarian.

“I asked you a question, young man, and when an elder asks you a question, you show respect and answer politely: What the heck do you know? You ever heard of Sammy Baugh? Bobby Layne? Sonny Jurgensen? Y.A. Tittle? I didn’t think so. Did you know I played quarterback – and defensive back – when I was at Brown? I know a thing or two about a thing or two, young man. Trouble with you kids today, you’re coddled and spoiled and unwilling to listen to anybody who says something you don’t want to hear.”

“I’m sorry. I just don’t know about the area up there,” said the flummoxed teenager, referring to State College, Pa., a rural hamlet isolated in the center of the state.

“You don’t know about that area? Let me tell you something about that area, young man,” Paterno said. “That area is a place where a young knucklehead such as yourself can grow into a man, learn to be a good citizen and, if you pay your dues and are patient and have a little bit of luck, can develop into a pretty fine college quarterback.”

Pryor, 6-foot-6, 235-pound phenom who has narrowed his list of colleges to Ohio State, Michigan, Oregon and Penn State, couldn’t seem to forestall Paterno’s attack.

“Another thing you might not know, young man, but we got another pretty fine quarterback from around here a few years back,” the coach said. “His name is Anthony Morelli, and he didn’t think Penn State was for him, either. But we changed his mind. And he stayed patient, waited his turn and was our starter for his junior and senior seasons. A lot of people like to talk about Tim Tebow this and Tim Tebow that, but Anthony showed a little bit about what maturity can do. He threw 31 TD passes in his career, only one fewer than Mr. Heisman Trophy had (last season).”

Pryor thanked Paterno, wished him luck and said it it’d been a great honor to get a visit from a football legend.

“An honor? An honor? Give me a break,” Paterno said. “What the heck do you know, young man?”

12 simple rock and roll songs, or 12 keys to the Big Game? Why don’t we let Axl Rose decide?

When settling any dispute, the first and only wisdom one needs is the gentle poetry of that philosopher of the American heartland, William Bruce Rose Jr., aka W. Axl Rose.

This rock icon cut his teeth singing in a Pentecostal choir in Bumfuck, Indiana, and getting molested by a laundry list of father figures. If he doesn’t have anything meaningful to say about America’s Great Day of Indulgence and Media Overkill, who the fuck does?

Therefore we will mine his insightful and timeless explorations of into the dark abyss of the American Dream to divine the winner of Super Bowl XLII. Hey, it’s more sophisticated than interpreting the entrails of pigs, and it’s more sporting than taking a tire iron to Tom Brady’s right knee.

As it turns out, Guns N’ Roses’ seminal album “Appetite for Destruction” has stood as an accurate Rosetta Stone for picking Super Bowl winners since its 1987 debut.

To date, it’s an astounding 19-1. (Like all self-respecting handicappers, “Appetite for Destruction” erroneously forecast the Seahawks to beat the Steelers in ’06, only to see Jerramy Stevens turn into an even bigger bitch and the referees get flag-happy.) But the point remains, there’s no need to consult your Las Vegas bookie: Thanks to G n’ fuckin’ R, we got the results right now.

The Songs:

1. “Welcome to the Jungle,” 4:31 (Rose, Slash)
2. “It’s So Easy,” 3:21 (McKagan, Arkeen)
3. “Nightrain,” 4:26 (Rose, Slash, Stradlin, McKagan)
4. “Out ta Get Me,” 4:20 (Rose, Slash, Stradlin)
5. “Mr. Brownstone,” 3:46 (Slash, Stradlin)
6. “Paradise City,” 6:46 (Rose, Slash, Stradlin, McKagan)
7. “My Michelle,” 3:39 (Rose, Stradlin)
8. “Think About You,” 3:50 (Stradlin)
9. “Sweet Child o’ Mine,” 5:56 (Rose, Slash, Stradlin, McKagan)
10. “You’re Crazy,” 3:15 (Rose, Slash, Stradlin)
11. “Anything Goes,” 3:25 (Rose, Stradlin, Weber)
12. “Rocket Queen,” 6:13 (Rose, Slash, Stradlin)

Their meaning for the Giants and Patriots:

1. “Welcome to the Jungle”

AKA: The Super Bowl. Where legends are born and fools become household jokes (remember Eugene Robinson?).

This is the big time. Both teams come in flying high after winning their conference titles, and neither wants to become a footnote to history and end its season on the ultimate down note. Life however, is cruel, and one will suffer just that fate.

Axl says: “When you’re high you never, ever want to come down. So down. So down. So down.”

2. “It’s So Easy”

Bill Belichick agrees. His life, the Patriots, and everyone associated with a Boston franchise must feel the same way. Beyond their arrogant self-esteem lies a genuine distaste for anyone who opposes them. Sort of George Bush, Karl Rove and Dick Cheney rolled into one Machiavellian, misanthropic football coach.

Axl says: “I see you standin’ there. You think you’re so cool. Why don’t you just … Fuck off!”

3. “Nightrain”

I don’t know how much MD 20/20 he’s been drinking lately, but little Tommy Brady seems to fill all the right expectations.

Axl says: “Well I’m a West Coast struttin’, one bad mother, got a rattlesnake suitcase under my arm. Said I’m a mean machine, been drinking gasoline, and honey you can make my motor hum.”

4. “Out ta Get Me”

If ever Randy Moss had a theme song, this would be it. After running over a reporter in the Twin Cities and pantomiming a mooning of the Lambeau faitfhul, he’s battled accusations of laziness, double-teams, and now domestic violence. But nothing seems to slow him down.

Axl says: “Their out ta get me. They wont catch me. I’m fuckin’ innocent. So you can suck me.”

5. “Mr. Brownstone”

I’d never accuse this washed-up has been of a once-promising quarterback of heroin abuse, but Drew Bledsoe has to feel a little like he’s been dancin’ with this title-track drug.

The former No. 1 overall pick has now watched two nobodies replace him and become NFL superstars. For his sanity, at least, Tony Romo and the Cowboys will be at home watching the big game as well.

Axl says: “Now I get up around whenever. I used to get up on time. But that old man, he’s a real motherfucker gonna kick him on down the line.”

6. “Paradise City”

I can assure you, it ain’t Detroit with its Nike’s buffed and its collars starched or New Orleans apres le déluge. But for one of these two franchises, Glendale, Arizona, is gonna feel like a special place.

Axl says: “Take me down to the Paradise City where the grass is green and the girls are pretty. Oh won’t you please take me home.”

But he also said …

“The surgeon general says it’s hazardous to breathe. I’d have another cigarette but I can’t see … tell me who you’re gonna believe?”

And you know what that means? ‘Cause if you do, let us know, too.

7. “My Michelle”

With no Jessica Simpson around, it’s hard to single someone out to play the role of Michelle. And just for the record, our boy Axl’s not talking about Michelle of sont-les-mots-qui-vont-tres-bien-ensemble fame. But if you take a close look at the lyrics, you might come to the same conclusion we did: only one person can fit the bill.

Though he wont be suiting up for either side, Hall of Famer Lawrence Taylor was coached by Belichick and is of course a Giants legend, so we’ll assume he’ll be at the game somewhere.

Axl says: “Your daddy works in porno now that mommy’s not around. She used to love her heroin, but now she’s underground. So you stay out late at night, and you do your coke for free. Drivin’ your friends crazy with your life’s insanity.”

8. “Think About You”

He might be in the stands as well, but Tiki Barber has got to feel just a little absurd after giving up on this Giants team and publicly denouncing Eli’s leadership. Trash-talkin’ Tiki’s probably more responsible than anyone for the media’s universal evisceration and condemnation of little brother. Somehow, the world got tipped on its head, the axis creaked, the continents shuddered and Eli fucking Manning is in the Super Bowl. Sometimes, anything is possible.

Axl says: “Say baby you been lookin’ real good, I remember when we met. Funny how it never felt so good, it’s a feelin’ that I know, I know I’ll never forget.”

9. “Sweet Child o’ Mine”

Unfortunately for the Big Brother Manning, Eli might be hoping for a little motherly love after the Patriots have had two weeks to dissect his weaknesses and deconstruct his reportedly fragile psyche.

Axl says: “Her hair reminds me of a warm safe place where as a child I’d hide and pray for the thunder and the rain to quietly pass me by.”

10. “You’re Crazy”

This seems to apply to any and all Giants fans who actually think their team has a chance. You can’t blame them, really. First of all they’re New Yorkers, and foolish arrogance is their birthright. And second, is the admittedly nutty idea of the Giants beating the Invincibles in the Super Bowl any more insane than the notion that they’d win three playoff games on the road was a month ago?

Axl says: “‘Cause you’re crazy. You’re fuckin’ crazy. Ya know you’re crazy. I said you’re crazy. Ooh you’re crazy. You know you’re crazy. Well you’re crazy. You know you’re crazy. You know you are – bring it down – you’re fuckin’ crazy!”

11. “Anything Goes”

But then again, don’t get too far ahead of yourselves, Patriot fans. “Any given Sunday” is much more than a shitty football movie. It also describes how you lucky bastards started this whole dynasty thing against the “Greatest Show on Turf” seven years ago. Could your comeuppance be lurking in the Arizona desert?

Axl says: “Tied up, tied down, up against the wall, be my Rubbermade baby and we can do it all. My way-your way, anything goes tonight.”

12. “Rocket Queen”

Axl says: “I’ve seen everything imaginable pass before these eyes. I’ve had everything that’s tangible, honey you’d be surprised. I’m a sexual innuendo in this burned out paradise. If you turn me on to anything you better turn me on tonight.”

Once again, we’re not quite sure what the hell our boy’s talking about, but we think it adds up to this: Pats 42, G-Men 20.

But then again, Mötley Crüe’s “Girls, Girls, Girls” picked the Sonics to make the playoffs this year.

We love you Ashley, oh yes we do!

“This is why they are the greatest. This is why they will go down as the most dominant, the most determined and, yes, the most clutch team of this or any era – better than the 1972 Miami Dolphins, better than the ’85 Chicago Bears, better than the ’98 Minnesota Vikings.”

This is why Ashley is a perennial favorite here at Unsportsmanlike Comment, if you’ll kindly excuse the absurd notion that a site just past its one-month birthday should recall anyone or anything as a perennial favorite.

Our Ashley, she’s a regular Arthur Schlesinger Jr. of NFL lore, and if the death-spiraling embarrassment that is the Philadelphia Inquirer sports section doesn’t feel just pleased as punch to have her around, we sure do.

Not only does she have a comprehensive grasp of the past for one so young and winsome, she has an uncanny vision of the future. This is why she and only she can confer the coveted greatest-team-of-all-time crown on the Patriots while they still need three more victories just to claim the greatest-team-of-2007 crown.

If it seems like we pick on female sports columnists a lot, well, we do. And we’re not going to apologize or make any Title IX New Year’s Resolutions on that front. Sure, it might seem unfair that, amid the great cesspool of sporting prose that befouls the journalistic wasteland, we should repeatedly pick on Ashley or Jemele or Jenni. Yes, it’s unfair, but it’s also fun.

Rest assured there are plenty of male sports columnists we find equally deserving of professional petard-hoisting, we just haven’t found the time or opportunity yet. We will, by God, we will, or we will die trying.

But back to Ashley. I for one am grateful, oh so grateful, that she has anointed the Perfect Patriots the greatest team of all time, thus sparing me the need to endure another tedious NFL playoff run. Best of all, there’ll be no need to endure the excruciating Super Bowl media extravaganza and the tribute to cultural irrelevance that is its halftime show. Hell, I’m second to no one in my admiration for the Rolling Stones and the stimulating qualities of Janet Jackson’s breasts, but I’d rather rock out to “Let it Bleed” and masturbate in the privacy of my own home than watch 62-year-old Mick prance on stage and lament his inability to attain sexual satisfaction when he should be playing with his grandchildren and peddling Levitra to fellow seniors.

Fair-minded, discerning folks like our good friend John McGrath might quibble with Ashley’s grasp of history as it pertains to professional football. They might offer gentle reminders of teams from bygone eras that swept through forgotten regular seasons like invincible Nazi blitzkriegs only to run headlong into their gridiron Stalingrads in the postseason winter. They might even point out that the Patriots haven’t even officially matched the Dolphins’ 17 wins of 1972.

But that is for them and their consciences to wrestle with. We’re not so high-minded in these parts. If you feel the need to resurrect the memories of yellowing juggernauts and decry the historical injustices suffered by teams such as the 1934 Bears, the 1942 Bears and the 1948 Browns, go right ahead. And have a Happy New Year, while you’re at it.

But if Ashley decrees that the 2007 Patriots are the greatest and most clutch team of all time, that’s good enough for me.

And dammitt, it oughta be good enough for you.

Stern says attendance not a problem

And now sports fans, the inside scoop.

During a recent matchup of the NBA’s two worst teams in Minneapolis, commissioner David Stern was kind enough to grant Unsportsmanlike Comment’s Rookie Wilson an exclusive interview. OK, so it wasn’t exclusive in the strictest sense, but since only 11 other fans were on hand for the riveting battle between the Seattle SuperSonics and Minnesota Timberwolves, Stern had enough time to answer a few questions for our loyal basketball junkies.

The Rook: Mr. Commissioner, this year’s attendance numbers have seemed to not only flatten, but in several cases they appear to be spiraling downward. Teams in Memphis, Charlotte, Indiana, New Jersey, New Orleans and Philadelphia can’t fill their arenas to 70 percent capacity. Are you at all concerned with the league’s suddenly sagging attendance numbers?

Commish: Not really. I don’t think those numbers really reflect the entirety of our fandom. Detroit, Chicago, Dallas, Boston. People are filling up those arenas. Besides, basketball has become a global game. There are billions of people in China just waiting for us to bring them the NBA. We are also extremely popular in Bora Bora. I have it on real good authority that along with the traditional Tahitian fire dance, basketball ranks on top of the list of recreational activities Bora Borans enjoy.

The Rook: Fair enough. You’ve recently taken some heat for a comment you made regarding the NBA’s new marketing slogan “Where Amazing Happens.” What was that all about?

Commish: I don’t think it was that big of a deal. I was trying to explain that we are a league that expects the unexpected, that’s all.

The Rook: I think you said, “Amazing is where 81 points happens, where Ben Wallace’s hair happens, where Yao Ming happens, where caring happens. Where Donaghy happens, where clubbing happens, where registered weapons happen. We invite our fans to mesh up whatever happens. It’s all there.”

I suppose game-fixing, drunken-brawling and 9mm handguns are part of the amazingly unexpected. I’ll give you Kobe’s 81 points as well, but I think what everybody really wants to know is, how does Ben Wallace’s hair and Yao Ming being Yao Ming fit into the category amazing?

Commish: Well you know, Yao’s really, really tall. And Ben’s hair is different every night. It could be all picked out one night, and then out of nowhere, it’s braided the next. I don’t know how he does it. It’s amazing.

The Rook: If you say so. How about the problems with this Sonics team and the city of Seattle? What can be done to keep them in the Northwest?

The Commish: Well that’s not really the plan right now Mr. Wilson. Clay and I have an understanding you see. If I bring him a team down there in Oklahoma City, he promises to get me in the Oklahoma Hall of Fame, just like him.

The Rook: But Mr. Stern, you were born in New Jersey. Why do want to be in the Oklahoma Hall of Fame?

Commish: A hall is a hall my boy. After the amazing debacle Donaghy tossed in my lap, I pretty much decided Springfield is out of the question. If I want to be enshrined in a hall of fame, and in turn leave any legacy at all, Oklahoma is where I’m going to have to hitch my wagon.

The Rook: OK. You and your pal Clay keep talking about a “world class” facility. What exactly are you looking for in a modern NBA building?

Commish: I’m glad you asked that question. One of my biggest disappointments with the current state of affairs around the NBA is our plethora of outdated facilities. What the fans don’t seem to understand is, the less of them that come to our games, the more money we need to make off of the few who do. It’s basic business math. That’s one of the things I’ve tried to emphasize with the owners. If every franchise had a super duper state-of-the-art mega mall for an arena, we could get people to come to the games for the amenities alone. Then we wouldn’t have to worry about what type of basketball was being played on the court.

The Rook: What do you mean by amenities? Luxury boxes? Trendy restaurants? Fashionable bars? Tricked-out team stores?

Commish: Yes, yes and yes, but so much more. We’ve kicked around some really great ideas. Restaurants are good. Sports bars are even better. I’m just running ideas up the flagpole here, but I’m thinking we could get Direct TV and the NFL Sunday ticket. I hear that packs ’em in. From what I understand, people love football. That Roger Goodell … wouldn’t you like to have his job?

The Rook: Interesting. What other ideas are you thinking of?

Commish: You know, basic stuff. My grandkids love those McDonald’s playgrounds. Maybe we could add a few of those in our concourses. I heard those Pirate movies had people lining up all over to see them. From what I understand, movies are pretty big draws all the way around. Can you imagine if we put a theater or two in every arena?

The Rook: No. Not really.

Commish: It’s just brainstorming. You know. All of us at the league office have been putting our heads together. We’re great at talking through solutions. Ideas come to me, I bounce them off my underlings, and they love ’em. It’s a total team effort.

The Rook: I see. It’s nice you have that kind of give-and-take relationship with your staff.

Commish: Yeah. They’re good to me. It’s important to surround yourself with a staff that can anticipate all your needs. Head nods, ham sandwiches, hand jobs – whatever. It’s good to be czar. You know, it really is.

Penn State salutes its own living legend, says Happy Birthday former coach Paterno

STATE COLLEGE, Pa. – The legend returned with a thatch of gray in his hair and a youthful dash in his step.

A festive holiday crowd packed the sold-out Bryce Jordan Center on Thursday night to pay tribute to former Penn State football coach Joe Paterno on the eve of his 81st birthday.

Paterno, who coached the Nittany Lions for 29 seasons and won two national championships, was feted by gathering of former players, assistant coaches, rivals and adoring fans.

“It’s been said many times, but it bears repeating: He taught you as much about life as he did about football,” said former Penn State running back John Cappelletti, winner of the 1973 Heisman Trophy. “He thought it was imperative to prepare his players for life after football. Because sooner or later, and sooner for most, football is not going to be there anymore.”

Paterno won 80 percent of his games at Penn State, compiling a 269-68-3 record and five undefeated seasons. He stepped down at age 68 after guiding the Nittany Lions to a 12-0 record in 1994. He was inducted into the College Football Hall of Fame in 1998.

Paterno arrived on campus in 1950 and took over the head job in 1966 after assisting Rip Engle for 16 years. He stayed for nearly three more decades, leaving behind a legacy of passionate and high-minded competition.

“He was a singular figure in the often murky, treacherous world of big-time college football,” said former Philadelphia Inquirer columnist Bill Lyon. “He had a notion that you could coach with integrity and even nobility and still be a success on the field. He designed his ‘Grand Experiment’ and then pulled it off, proving you could balance the often warring demands of athletics and academics. His success inspired many critics who accused him of moral posturing, but most were envious of all he’d accomplished.

“His final act remains maybe his most unappreciated. He showed rare grace and exquisite dignity in stepping away at the peak of his career and paving the way for a younger colleague.”

Tom Bradley succeeded Paterno in 1995 and retired after winning Penn State’s third national championship with a victory over No. 1 Oklahoma in the 2000 Orange Bowl. He said Paterno was a father figure to him and many of his players.

“I owe Coach Paterno a debt of gratitude that I’ll never be able to repay,” said Bradley, who played for Paterno at Penn State before joining his coaching staff in 1980. “I came here a cocky, clueless kid, and he helped me develop into a mature football coach with a respect for doing things the right way.”

Paterno, who was accompanied on stage by wife Sue, fought his emotions at times during the ceremony.

“To think a poor kid from Brooklyn could … play football and study at a fine school like Brown, then come here to assist a man like Rip Engle. If you would’ve told me back in 1950 that I’d still be coaching at Penn State in 1990, I would’ve said you’re crazy. But it was a wonderful, wonderful experience.

“And all the rest is just … what I’ll remember most are the kids, the kids who showed up on campus as callow boys and left as responsible young men. We didn’t always win the battle, but I like to think in the end we won the war.”

Like his mentor before him, Bradley toiled as a faithful sidekick, working as an assistant for 15 years while being groomed by Paterno as his eventual heir.

“He showed me an incredible, incredible loyalty, and without his influence I never would’ve become a college head coach,” Bradley said. “It wasn’t easy replacing a legend, but he more or less handed me the baton when he stepped down. For that honor I’ll be eternally thankful.”

Also on hand were current Penn State coach Larry Johnson and former head coach Greg Schiano, who was forced to step down in 2004 in the wake of a recruiting scandal that shocked the nation and tarnished the pristine reputation Paterno had labored so long to establish.

The celebration was originally planned last year for Paterno’s 80th birthday, but the former coach was forced to cancel after slipping on a patch of ice and breaking his leg while walking his Yorkshire terrier Suetonius near his State College home.

As for Paterno’s abortive foray into politics, nothing was said. He challenged Republican incumbent Tom Ridge in the 1998 Pennsylvania gubernatorial primary. Paterno rode his statewide popularity to a 12-point lead in the polls before his candidacy derailed in ugly fashion when a top campaign aide who happened to be his son was arrested in a Pittsburgh hotel room and charged with possession of a controlled substance and soliciting prostitution.

The charges later were dropped, but the damage was done.

Florida State coach Bobby Bowden, at 78 the all-time winningest coach in NCAA Division I-FBS, appeared via satellite to honor Paterno.

“He’s one of the greatest coaches ever to coach our great game of football,” Bowden said as the Jordan Center rocked and rolled. “He’s right up there in the coaching heavens with Bear Bryant. They don’t come much better than old Joe. I’m only sad he didn’t stick around longer, so I wouldn’t be the only old goat walking the sideline.”

That last comment elicited a chuckle from Paterno.

“I’m not going to lie and say that I don’t sometimes wish I were running out of the tunnel and onto the grass at Beaver Stadium on Saturday afternoons,” Paterno said. “But that would be crazy. I’m glad I’m not some octogenarian coot desperately clinging to his bygone youth.

“There comes a time to move on for all of us. There was a time for Rip to move on, a time for me to move on, a time for Tom to move on. What’s important is what you’ve left behind once you’ve moved on.”

Speaking of leaving things behind, Paterno and his wife have donated more than $4 million to the university, where a wing of the library bears his name.

“I really believed, and I still believe, that there are more important things in life than winning a football game,” he said. “When I was dealing with a kid who maybe had a problem with his grades or a girl, I tried to remember what Cicero said: ‘A mind without instruction can no more bear fruit than can a field, however fertile, without cultivation.’

“When you’re talking about the kids who came into the Penn State program, I honestly think we succeeded in cultivating the mind as well as the football player.”