Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Jerry Sandusky and the Penn State Football Scandal Pt. I...

Well, what can I add to this quagmire of bullshit that is the Penn State Football scandal that hasn't been said already? Plenty, as a matter of fact. Here goes-

We are going to begin this three part investigative series with a close look at Queen Bee "Joe Pa" Paterno. Yes, he of the paternal nickname, always there for his flock of nimrod steroid freaks in their time of need with sage advice and a firm grip on the type of family-oriented values cherished by the "real" Americans that inhabit the euphemistic world of "Middle America". Middle America, that vast intellectual and sartorial wasteland that exists between the liberal, left-wing, pot-smoking East and West coasts exemplified by New York City and Los Angeles respectively. Middle America, where flannel is a fashion statement. Where plastic forks, spoons and paper plates are considered silverware. Middle America, where Spam and Chef Boyardi beef pillows (ravioli to you and me) is considered fine dining.

This is supposed to be where small-town family values and personal integrity are of such importance that jive-ass politicians pander to these assholes as if the rest of us are nothing more than heathenish baboons who do nothing but gang-bang, have out-of-wedlock children while intermingling with drug dealers, disease-ridden prostitutes and all manner of human garbage. Middle America is where you'll find the strict moral codes and rock-solid integrity that define this country. Nothing but honest-to-goodness, wholesome Americans, by golly. And if you think otherwise you'd be darn tootin'.

Rural Pennsylvania isn't exactly where I would recommend sending young men and women to receive a college education. The reasoning behind attaining a degree is to expand one's intellectual horizons through a combination of classroom study, research, lectures and interaction with fellow students from diverse backgrounds. But Penn State is a football factory masquerading as an academic institution, renown more for it's party school atmosphere and athletic programs than anything remotely resembling academia. Penn State is where the beer flows from the kegs of Anheuser-Busch straight into the gullets of its' brain dead student body. In many state universities perpetual toxic inebriation is a major. For the students at Penn State it qualifies as a double-major.

On any given weeknight most if not all the dorms on the venerable Penn State campus reek of beer farts and vomit from underage, lard-ass redneck losers who can't get laid because-you guessed it-most of the cute girls are getting fucked by the football players. The rest are standing in line waiting their turn (if you think I'm joking, then you've never been to one of these schools). These young ladies are pretty much your standard, run-of-the-mill white trash hoochies who've been administering blowjobs to jocks since they were in the seventh grade. Think I'm kidding? The most prevalent sexually transmitted diseases in suburban high schools among young girls are syphilis and gonorrhea...of the throat.

By the time they get to college, they would have honed their craft to the point that drinking beer, smoking pot and blowing football players is all they're good at. And what better place to accomplish these feats of daring-do while earning a sham of a degree than at an academic shithole like Penn State, where no one gives a fuck as long as Paterno gets his beloved Nittany Lions into a high-ranking bowl game every year?

Paterno was, for at least the last 15-20 years, a football coach like I'm the head of Virgin Airlines. This is a man who doesn't know where he is half the fucking time due to a case of undiagnosed dementia that belies his hyper-aggressive sense of entitlement. This is the only reason I can come up with for his abhorrent and clearly irrational behavior following the Sandusky revelations, which lead to his rightful dismissal. But his behavior isn't the result of some mental disorder. It's the result of being treated like a deity who always thought he was bigger than the school.

In fact, he thought he WAS the school, and the thinking around the intellectually hermetically sealed world of the Athletic Office was the place would crumble to the ground if "Joe Fucking Pa" wasn't running out of the tunnel on his reconstructed hip replacements with his team every Saturday. Let's be real-he hasn't coached in years, letting his assistants do the heavy lifting of running the program while he sits in a booth high above the field trying not to choke on his false teeth as he nods in and out of consciousness during practices and games like a heroin addict. 

During the time Penn State football fell into a bit of disarray during the early 2000's, the school realized it needed to recruit more athletically talented players, players who  usually aren't what one would call model citizens. This of course lead to more on-campus rioting and general mayhem on the part of the players during their off-time, when students are usually either in class, sleeping, or shitting all over themselves from a night of epic alcohol poisoning. Paterno continuously interfered with school officials whose job it was to look into violations of the school code of conduct, bullying his way through the process while gaining favorable sentences for his athletes, who almost always wound up receiving  lighter sentences than your average Penn State dickwad undergrad. Ah, those small-town values...rock solid and a shining example of virtuousness that is the envy of all the land.

Wanna know how big Paterno's juevos are? A few years ago, when it was way past uncomfortably obvious that this dickhead had to go once and for all, the school administration asked him to graciously step down for the sake of the program and he told the school President "No"-and wasn't fired. Can you imagine the balls on this fucking guy? They make the boulder that chased Indiana Jones through the Temple of Doom look like marbles.

This was during a time when Penn States' biggest highlight was Paterno running off the field in the middle of a game because his diarrhea was so egregious his bowels were going to explode all over the gridiron like a Hydrogen bomb. The lenses of his glasses are so thick he's been advised by NASA not to look directly into a solar eclipse for fear the reflection from his manhole-sized spectacles would knock both the sun and the moon completely out of orbit.

And while we're at it, let's also take into account his disgusting man-boobs-those sagging, drooping bags of octogenarian flab that are so hideous they leave even me at a loss for superlatives. You can actually see the silhouette of his Frisbee-sized nipples through his dingy, Chunky Soup-stained team-issue sweatshirt whenever he appears on camera. They are a monstrosity that insults even the lowbrow sensitivities of a rural bumble-fuck campus like University Park.

When the Sandusky storm was brewing over campus, the student body decided to hold a candlelight vigil-not for this beast's victims, but for Paterno. I wondered if Sandusky had actually victimized Joe Pa, such was the pity party thrown for this clearly out-of-touch jackass who again showed mammoth-sized testicles when he told school administrators when HE was going to step down. This graceless goon didn't show any type of contrition or remorse for the victims until he was told to by one of his PR hacks. It turned out to be too little too late for this career football neanderthal, and now he's gone down in a flame of infamy that will forever sully any good he's done while employed at Penn State. Only Bobby Knight's departure from Indiana University rivals Paterno's ignominious exit from the school he basically put on the map.

And that's just too fucking bad. Good-bye and good riddance, you piece of shit. You went from head coach of a powerhouse football program beloved the world over to drooling all over your Bingo card at the nearest retirement home in record time. You deserve nothing less. Let's have a moment of silence-not for Paterno, but for the hapless victims of Jerry Sandusky. Paterno can eat my ass for all I care. I hope he gets sued so fucking hard he won't have enough money left over to pay for his badly needed mastectomies. Maybe he can raise the funds by soliciting money from the same douchebags that sent Sandusky cash to help pay for his defense.

No comments:

Post a Comment