Just for RGV Moms

By Allyson Reynolds Dixon

I’m not sure about you guys, but I’ve had a lot of conflicts as the situation with former Penn State football coach played out.

Unless you live under a rock, you’ve certainly heard that he was fired from the university after 62 years and  a couple of national championships. You’ve probably heard that eight days after the man known as JoePa  was fired, he was diagnosed with cancer. You probably also know that he died Sunday.

He was fired  because his good friend and former colleague, Jerry Sandusky, allegedly molested several young men – some on campus – and Paterno never told university officials the entirety of what he’d heard. He was fired because he allowed Sandusky to keep the keys to the field house, where at least one of the alleged molestations took place.

Sunday morning, television, the Internet and newspapers addressed those issues. One of his former players went so far as to say Paterno died of a broken heart. Never mind that he was 85 and had lung cancer. He died of a broken heart because one of the things he most loved was taken away – a game.

So it was with great interest that when I pulled up the website for the Detroit Free Press, I found the story of Paterno placed next to the story of Wes Leonard, a teenaged basketball player who literally died of a broken heart.

Some of you may remember the story of Wes. The high school basketball phenom made a game-winning shot to give his team an undefeated season. TV footage showed his teammates hoist him into the air. And then Wes slipped from their grasp as he suffered cardiac arrest. He truly died of a broken heart.

Call me a newspaper geek. I’ll own that. But there is great irony in seeing the photo of a man who could, potentially, have saved some kids from his friend’s alleged brutality dying of “a broken heart” being placed next to a kid who truly did.

It brings the question of which is sadder to the table. An elderly man who may or may not have made the right decisions dying with the cloud of indignity? Or a boy who had  his whole life ahead of him?

They both shared the love of a game, but who lost more to win their game?

Clearly, I don’t have the answer. You probably don’t, either. If you do, please share your thoughts.

You can reach me at adixon@themonitor.com. Thanks for reading.

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