January 22, 2012 -- It was a somber mood, that Sunday morning, turning the channel to ESPN to reveal the impossible. Why, just months ago, it seemed uncertain Joe Paterno would ever coach his final game, let alone take his final breath. His legacy seemed untouchable, sitting upon the highest, most visible shelf that college football has to offer – never did his demeanor quiver. Joe Paterno coaching the Nittany Lions every Saturday, often in his khaki pants and Penn State windbreaker, had become as routine and precise as clockwork.

The slow-moving, calm, then-84-year-old coach paced the sidelines as a living model for respectability and success. For the student-athletes he coached, Paterno served as more than just a consultant for the teachings of the game (for that would do his legacy no justice). Rather, he prided himself in having the unique ability to breach the generational barriers of his “students” and connect with them on a personal level, developing unique, individual relationships. Relationships that survived far beyond the 100 yards of playing field, two endzones, and thousands of loyal fans.

For Joe, the literal playing field was unique, in that it served a higher purpose – one in which in-game opportunities could be (and should be) interpreted as real-life situations.

A playing field where an interception, or a fumble, was more than just a test to your fortitude, but also an event that forced you to develop trust in those around you; that they could even give you another opportunity to redeem yourself.

A playing field that teaches you no matter how fast you run, how high you jump, or how impressive your decision-making skills are, your chance at victory may ultimately rely on someone else’s foot.

A playing field where stick-to-itiveness and brilliant performances in the final quarter can compensate for failure in the previous three . . . and vice versa. A playing field that you wouldn’t see, under Coach Paterno, unless academics were made a priority. A playing field that JoePa was never prepared to relinquish. But as the game of football has proven to be cruel, the game of life is even more so.

The head-coaching career of Joe Paterno, which has required four-plus decades to mold and shape it into one of success, is legendary. He IS Nittany Lion football. He IS Penn State University. He IS State College, Pennsylvania.

Reaching back to his playing days at Brown University, Paterno has fed 65 years of dedication and hard work into the sport. Kindly, he was reciprocated with a legacy that does, indeed, reign supreme in college football. And while the events that transpired over the final months of Joe Paterno’s life will certainly mar his legacy (as they should, to an extent), it is my hope that his earthly fortitude will prevail, posthumously.

Just as Joe was forced to survive without the sport with which he had become intertwined, that same sport will now be forced to survive without him.

One of the greats. One of a kind. Joe Paterno.