Joe Paterno is/was legendary in no small part because of his (rare, we are forced to believe) commitment to excellence both on and off the football field. Academics at Penn State were among his highest priorities—his players (like those, I’m proud to say, of my own alma mater, Southern Miss) consistently ranked among the highest academic achievers in college football, consistently producing some of the best graduation rates. It’s a library that he chose to have his name attached to, a sign of where his priorities were.

The problem: that commitment to academic integrity and family-like honor did not extend beyond the immediate Penn State family. Penn State, and college football, is about the highest-paid employee on campus (and usually among the highest-paid employees in a given state) extending whatever commitments to a given concept of honor, duty, and integrity only to the immediate family. It’s a mob sort of mentality.

All that is to say, when it came to helping young men who were part of the Penn State family become the best young men they could be, Joe Paterno was there. But when it came to protecting far younger and more vulnerable men who were victimized by a member of the Penn State fraternity, suddenly Joe Paterno, the most powerful state employee in Pennsylvania, became a docile buck-passer who followed only the exact technical letter of the law rather than hold to the supposed idea of honor that had been his trademark. In an instant he sacrificed his supposed commitment to going above and beyond.

That’s why every time you see a commercial by the SEC or Pac-12 or whoever spouting the integrity and academic tradition of the conference’s athletic program, part of you, if you are a sentient human who is completely honest with yourself, rolls its eyes and starts thinking about football again as soon as it possibly can.