Paterno funeral was trip ex-Buc Robinson had to make

Mark Robinson was on his cellphone early Wednesday afternoon. He had flown from Tampa and was at the airport in State College, Pa. He was on his way to see Joe.

"I have to be here," Robinson said.

Hundreds of former Penn State players had told themselves that since Joe Paterno died. They've made the trip to Central Pennsylvania to say goodbye to their coach, to a man they loved and admired.

There was a report Tuesday that more than 800 former Penn State players had passed before Paterno's casket as it lie in the spiritual center on campus, with coaches and fans, lines stretching for blocks.

Eight hundred players! The number grew Wednesday, at Paterno's funeral service, and it will grow today at a public memorial in the Penn State basketball arena. Mark Robinson will be there, along with thousands of others. It's extraordinary.

It's a complicated process, separating the coach and the maker of men from the man who in an interview before he died admitted he should have done more about longtime assistant Jerry Sandusky.

The board of trustees at Penn State did right by cleaning house. They were wrong to fire Paterno by phone, to dismiss a people person like that. But the children allegedly abused by Sandusky, they were people too . . . this is so complicated and so tragic.

But those players in those long lines, that's also the reality. You don't wipe out 60 years of teaching.

These are Joe's men and always will be.

Mark Robinson played for Paterno's first national championship team in 1982. He was a team captain in 1983. He played professionally for the Bucs. He and his wife own and operate a Montessori school in Safety Harbor.

Mark Robinson is thinking of the first time he met Joe. It was 1980 at John F. Kennedy High School in Silver Spring, Md. Coach Paterno was there to recruit him.

"The first thing Joe ever said to me was, 'I hear you're a good student,' " Robinson said. "No other coach started with that.

"He went to my house. I remember vividly. We had a brown chair with an ottoman. Joe just kind of plopped down in the chair, put his feet up and started talking to my mom and dad about me getting an education at Penn State.

"He loved that my sister, that she came down the stairs in curlers. Joe said it was just like being at his own house, kids all around, doing whatever. He felt right at home. By the time he left, he knew my sister's boyfriend's name. He knew my dog's name.

"Coach told my parents, 'I'll make sure he has a good experience — and he will get his degree.' When Joe left, my parents said they trusted this man, they trusted him.

"He was a father figure to me," Robinson said. "There's no other way to put it. He kind of helped me navigate at that time in my life."

Robinson was enrolled at Penn State when his father died.

"I'm driving home, totally distraught, not believing a man that strong, my dad, could die," Robinson said. "And I remember when I looked up at the funeral, there was Joe. He was there for me.

"To me, it's ridiculous that we're not looking at him in terms of everything else, and I don't just mean 409 wins, not at all, but more importantly the players he guided, shaped and formed over the years, that he developed assets to communities all across the country."

Joe Paterno's final bowl game was the Outback Bowl last January in Tampa. Mark Robinson took his daughter Jasmine to a Penn State practice.

"The first thing Joe did was ask me, 'How's your mom Jean doing?' " Mark Robinson said. "It had been 30 years, but Joe remembered my mom's name. You don't do that if you're not real. Joe was so real."

There were thousands along the route of the funeral procession Wednesday in State College. They had to be there, too. For Mark Robinson, there was never any question.

"This means that much to me," he said. "Joe means that much."