If you are searching for a reason why America has not warmed to their race, perhaps that is it. Joe Paterno and Bobby Bowden, it turns out, no longer live on the mountaintop. Or in 1990, for that matter.
Dang them.
By now, you'd think we would all be paying attention and grinning. Paterno has won one more game than Bowden, and Bowden has won more than everyone else in Division I-A. The Sunshine Boys are coming down the stretch.
What could be better? The grand old men of college football, Paterno and Bowden, have turned into McGwire and Sosa battling for the home run record. Or, to use a better analogy, they've turned into Walter Matthau and Jack Lemmon, grumpy old guys hobbling as fast as they can toward Ann-Margret's house.
But Joe lost his edge.
And Bobby lost his grip.
Isn't that the perception these days? Haven't you heard that, at some point in the recent past, the game of college football passed Paterno by? It was moving, roughly, at the same speed as the squad cars flying toward the FSU campus.
Every week, it seems, the critics snipe a little more fiercely at the ankles of Paterno and Bowden. Listen closely and you'd get the impression Paterno wanders around the Penn State sideline trying in vain to remember what the forward pass is all about, while Bowden spends his evening slapping the backs of players as they leave respective police lineups.
Joe's too stubborn.
Bobby's too lax.
The perceptions, of course, are largely bunk, and they say as much about the followers of the game as they do the coaches in question.
Still, shouldn't we be enjoying the race a little more?
Look, I'd love it if Paterno were winning a little more regularly. Who wouldn't? And I'm on record as saying I wish Bowden, from time to time, had an ejection seat on his team bench. Who doesn't?
But are you serious?
Do you believe, for one second, that college football is better off without either of them?
A confession: I thought Bowden should have suspended Peter Warrick. I thought Paterno should have suspended Rashard Casey. I'm not saying either coach is critic-proof. I'm not saying I'm above taking a swing myself.
Sometimes, though, the criticism seems out of perspective. Neither Paterno nor Bowden is perfect, but if you look at the entire canvas, you're going to find a lot to appreciate. With Paterno at 337 victories, with Bowden at 336, this seems as good a time as any.
For a long time, both Paterno and Bowden seemed to be revered. They were different kind of men, and both seemed to enjoy their image. Paterno was Mr. Chips, smart and ethical and efficient. Bowden was Sheriff Andy, affable and charming, content to play the role of a bumpkin.
Frankly, the chants of "Joe Must Go" stun me. Let's face it: To most of us, Paterno is Penn State. The school ought to put his face on the helmets.
Put it this way: If Paterno's teams went 1-10 every year from now until his 100th birthday, if Paterno somehow forgets how many downs he gets before he has to punt, no one should say a word. It's his program, okay?
As for Bowden, let's be honest. There are times when he makes it easy for his critics. He'll admit that he believes in second chances more than most coaches. Not only that, but Bowden will answer any questions, and he'll try to be clever as he does. So he talks about Warsaw Rules and praying for a misdemeanor, and the words tag after him like a stray hound.
That's the way it works with Bowden. Writers say he should be tougher, and he isn't, so we type louder. And so it goes.
On the other hand, on the list of problems in college football, where does reckless parking rank?
Ah, Joe can't recruit.
And Bobby can't restrain.
If you ask me, this is all because of Bear Bryant. Bryant, as you may have heard, used to curse a little bit. Who knew the old guy had one more in him?
Think about it. When Paterno passed Bryant, back in 2001, he was still thought of as the model coach of a model program, and people kept mentioning the five unbeaten seasons and the sparkling reputation of the program.
Yet, since Paterno passed Bryant, the criticisms have begun in earnest. Paterno, like Bryant, started being criticized for a lack of discipline. The Nittany Lions are 13-8 since the record-setting game, and Bowden has whittled the deficit to one game.
As for Bowden, he tied the Bear in the Gator Bowl following the 2001 regular season. Then the 2002 season happened, and the sniping hasn't stopped. No one talks about the 13 consecutive top 10 finishes.
The cure? Maybe both men should bury a houndstooth hat, spill a bottle of bourbon over it and spit twice over their left shoulders.
That way, they could resume winning. And, in a decade or so, the record would be tied, and they could coach against each other in their final game for the national championship.
You know, Clueless Joe.
Oh, and Blind-Eye Bobby.
Gee. Given all their shortcomings, isn't it a wonder they won any games at all?
