THE NITTANY LION KING

By JOHN MOODY/STATE COLLEGE

At one end of the ivy-draped practice field, a potbellied man limps along, the cuffs of his baggy trousers rolled above his socks. Alone with his thoughts, he shakes his head in dismay, mutters and then scratches something on a much folded sheet of white paper. You might think he was a curmudgeonly equipment manager or an eccentric classics professor. But what gives his identity away, more than the familiar face or the trademark retro eyewear, is the manner in which the behemoths on the field cast periodic glances his way. They know that on that sheet of paper Joe Paterno may be writing down how the rest of their lives will turn out.

Joseph Vincent Paterno, 68, is now two games into his 30th season as the head coach of the Penn State football team. Last Saturday the Nittany Lions demolished Temple 66-14 to stretch their winning streak to 19 games, the longest in the nation. That also gave Paterno his 271st victory as a head coach, which is fourth on the all-time major college list, behind Bear Bryant (323), Pop Warner (319) and Amos Alonzo Stagg (314). The only coach ever to win the Rose, Sugar, Orange and Cotton bowls, Paterno has had five unbeaten, untied seasons and two undisputed national championships. He might have had a third last year, but the college football polls gave the mythical national championship to Nebraska, which made everyone in Happy Valley, including Paterno, very unhappy.

The coach, though, is not just about football. He is about a graduation rate of 80% among football players, second in the nation--by a hair--to Notre Dame. He is about giving $250,000 of his own money to the university for a new library extension. He is about staying put in State College, even though he has had tempting offers to go elsewhere, pro and college. He is about making sure his charges keep their grades up: he keeps a chart with each player's GPA and JVP, and if the grade point average falls below the Joseph Vincent Paterno projection set for him, that player will find himself on the bench.

Says Fran Ganter, the Penn State offensive coordinator who has served under Paterno for 25 years: "We've had kids who signed with a pro team and are making a million dollars a year, but they come back to finish up those last three credits, and do you know why? Because they'd be afraid to look Joe in the eye if they didn't. Other schools have graduation rates of 30 or 40 percent. It's a sin; it's a rip-off. It gives me a pit in my stomach to think about what goes on elsewhere."

What goes on elsewhere? Well, since 1980, seven of the 12 schools that have finished No. 1 in one of the major polls were subsequently hit with NCAA sanctions or inquiries, including the last five: Miami, Washington, Alabama, Florida State and Nebraska. If Diogenes worked for the NCAA, one of the few places he could rest easy would be Penn State.

In a Flatbush accent that hasn't been softened by four years as an undergrad at Brown University or 46 years in State College, Paterno says, "The program you have usually starts with the type of people you recruit. Unfortunately, other people keep promising kids things--'You're gonna get a chance to play, a shot at the pros,' and so on. What we say is, 'Here is what we expect of you.' We don't want people who can't be part of the bigger campus."

Strange as it may seem, Paterno actually entertained--however briefly--the prospect of taking over the University of Miami's scandal-ridden program last year. "There was just enough adventure or something to the idea that it scratched my bark. I thought about it one night, then called and said, 'For crying out loud, I'm not the right guy for the job.'"

Paterno tells a story about a meeting he had with a player and his parents, in which he had to tell them their son would not be allowed to play because he hadn't applied himself in summer school. "His mom was crying, and she came up to me, and I thought she was gonna hit me. But instead she hugged me and said, 'Thank you for caring.'" By the same token, Paterno has kept other athletes on scholarship and told them to forget about football so they could concentrate on their studies.

Some might call what he practices Paterno-ism, and there are others who say that the coach is out of touch. But Don Ferrell, Penn State's academic athletic adviser for 12 years, thinks differently. "Blacks like to say they don't believe in Joe," says Ferrell, an African American. "They think what he's done is too good to be true. They have a certain perception of Joe that leaves me speechless. Joe's an educator and a father, and not just a coach. He never lets the young people down. He is the ultimate experience."

Or, in the words of Penn State senior Scott Stewart, "Coach is old, but he's really cool."