Remember the show, Dallas? Who shot JR and…um, all that stuff? Okay, I didn't really watch that show either. I was more of a Kate & Allie man, myself. I mean Miami Vice!

Anyway, fans of the beloved Ewings were hornswoggled when the last episode revealed the entire 1985 season was nothing but a dream. Duped, dumb-struck, hoodwinked and betrayed, the Dallas faithful didn't know what to believe and wondered just what else was real, and what was nothing more than a figment of Pamela's imagination (and sweet rack…what, what'd I say).

My point is, sadly and tragically Joe Paterno's last chapter has been written and has forever tarnished an otherwise positive and inspirational book. Passions predictably run deep on both sides. Supporters stress the positives and that one bad decision should not undo decades of good work. Logical and understandable argument, if not for the fact that the one bad decision, unfortunately, is severely, drastically, and diametrically the polar opposite of what a man of Paterno's perceived character would have done. Bottom line is he chose to preserve the reputation of a program over the safety of a child, which to a lot of people is unforgivable. What's horrifyingly worse is that after the pervert was caught red-handed and essentially got away with it, it didn't end there. You know there were more children after that one. And those could have been prevented. Which makes JoePa slightly more than a bystander at that point. And that's what I find unforgivable.

But maybe that's just me.

Doggie-paddling back to the shallow end of the pool, the woman who played Thunderbug, the Tampa Bay Lightning mascot, was fired for spraying silly-string on a fat, pale, loud, belligerent, douchebag. Or as we like to call around here, a Boston Bruins fan. The mouth-breathing neanderthal, who apparently misplaced his sense of humor along with his running shoes and inside voice, shoved Thunderbug to the ground. Don't get your shoulder hair in a lather, Mongo. You can't treat everyone like they're your wife. Turned out the walking condom ad flew into a rage after discovering it wasn't a can of Easy Cheese.

Eight coaches have run though One Buc Place since the Tampa Bay Buccaneers' inception in 1976. All but one (John McKay) were shit-canned. Those are some sweet odds. Enter number nine; A no-nonsense, hard-nosed disciplinarian from Jersey named Greg Schiano (cue the Sopranos theme). Schiano took the Head Coaching job at the State University of New Jersey when the words "Rutgers" and "Football" went together like pralines and dick. Since then he's built the program to a solid "pretty good" status and has made the USF Bulls his personal bitch. Which means he's already won more games in Raymond James Stadium that Raheem Morris. Zing!

Three helpful hints on your North to South transition, Greg:

This article appears in Jan 26 – Feb 1, 2012.