The Coach

With only a few turns of his stomach, the entire college football world got a taste of the mystery bug that's been making the Penn State football program queasy for the better part of the last decade ? the fact that nobody knows what the future holds for Joe Paterno.

In the second quarter of Saturday's contest with Ohio State, Paterno was escorted into the bowels of Ohio Stadium, giving a national television audience plenty of butterflies about his well-being when he didn't come back out. With each passing moment ? five, 10, 15 minutes ? curiosity turned into utter concern as one of the game's icons was absent from a Penn State sideline he's known for 41 historic years.

How long will Joe Paterno remain at Penn State? Who knows? (Caroline Kester / Associated Press)

And somewhere, sandwiched between all the hubbub, was the obvious question that nobody really wanted to ask: Could this be the way it ends for one of college football's most legendary coaches?

Unless there's a fountain of youth flowing under his modest, ranch home on the north side of Penn State's campus, the 79-year-old won't have the option of coaching forever. You'd have to believe that despite his unconditional love for the game, even Joe Paterno knows that. But then again, it doesn't seem like it's anything he's losing sleep over.

Arguably the most powerful man in all of Pennsylvania, Paterno has offered no hints as to when he'll end his run as Penn State's head coach, leaving many fans uneasy in the process. Boil it down, and you'd have a better chance of seeing sunlight on a blustery winter day in State College than ever predicting if and when JoePa will call it quits.

In reality, it seems Paterno's only retirement plans include ... well, not retiring. And it's this uncertainty that has led to divisive grumbles within the Penn State community.

Some diehards would be content if Paterno lived out his remaining years on the field and used clairvoyant tactics to guide the program from the eventual afterlife ... that is, if modern science is capable. After all, the man has been the lifeblood of Penn State for as far back as most of us can remember. To them, a Paterno-less team is like a Margaritaville without a Jimmy Buffett swagger. More to the point, and aside from the overwhelming numbers he's compiled as a head coach, these fans are also quick to point out Paterno's countless other contributions to the university, such as the millions he's given toward new buildings, the integrity he's bestowed upon his student-athletes and his immeasurable role in transforming State College into an unlikely metropolis nestled in central Pennsylvania.

It's a compelling case. But there are two sides to every argument.

On the flip side, there are plenty of critics who find Paterno's aging tenure more and more difficult to digest with each passing game, fearing it may never actually end. They argue that for as peachy as Paterno's been for the Nittany Lions, the game has long since passed him by, even as he fell just short of perfection last season. They insist he's being stubborn and impeding the program by refusing to turn the reins over to a deserving assistant like defensive coordinator Tom Bradley. Most notably, they contend that the program needs the rejuvenating effects that a new coach could provide, not a famous figurehead who preserves the team's nostalgia.
Likewise, their points have some merit, too.

See, it's not that cut and dry, is it? On one hand you've got the driving force behind Penn State's ascension as a football powerhouse and academic leader, and a man who's more than earned the right to leave whenever he wants. On the other, you've got a relic from yesteryear whose gameplans are dated, whose program has noticeably regressed in recent years, and whose storied tradition means less to today's recruits than ever before.

Understand the dilemma?

And the most unsettling part about this whole debate is not that one argument is stronger than the other. Actually, it's because both sides are absolutely correct. It's because when passion is involved, there's never a truly "right" answer to begin with.

Regardless, there wasn't a fan in America who didn't breathe a sigh of relief as Paterno re-emerged from the tunnel and walked gingerly back to his post. Turns out it wasn't the serious medical ailment that everyone feared. Nope. Instead, the culprit was a lingering "G.I. issue" that forced a few trips to the "little boy's room," according to Paterno. Go ahead and chuckle, Paterno did. At the very least, we know he's an honest guy.

So, in the meantime, Happy Valley, use your Pepto-Bismol while watching your team's remaining games and not while worrying over your coach's future. Because, let's face it, that's one stomach ache that isn't going away anytime soon.

Ty Hildenbrandt was the winner of the first Next Great Sportswriter competition on FOXSports.com.