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Penn State Football: For Franklin, the Last 14 Days Mean More Than Just 8-0, Even If He Never Says It

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Ben Jones

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EAST LANSING, Mich. —Nearly four seasons ago James Franklin prepared to answer questions and face the music following Penn State’s 49-10 loss to Michigan.

The defeat itself could be explained. The Wolverines were talented and ranked fourth in the nation. Penn State was plagued with injuries and introducing a new offensive coordinator while working in a new quarterback. Nothing about that game would have been easy on a good day, and that sunny September afternoon was not a good day.

But it was another loss, another setback on a road that was often difficult to explain. Was Penn State struggling because of the lingering effects of NCAA sanctions or because Joe Moorhead wasn’t as good as advertised? Was Franklin’s now exhausted loyalty to former offensive coordinator John Donovan a sign of larger management issues? How long would fans support someone who promised so much but whose promises were set to be fulfilled on a date yet to be determined.

Penn State had lost six of its last eight games, fired an offensive coordinator, lost its defensive coordinator and seemed no better for any of it.

As Franklin answered questions, athletic director Sandy Barbour and her then-deputy Phil Esten stood in the back of the room like they always did. They, too, were listening, hearing out a man who ultimately represented a multi-million dollar investment in a multi-million dollar business.

They may have supported him, but their power only extended so far beyond the reaches of 110,000 frustrated fans and the wallets each of them held.

The future was a question, the answer unclear.

Since that day Penn State has gone 37-7, won a Big Ten title, made the Rose Bowl and has had a run of success comparable to only a handful of programs. The wins have come far more often than the losses and in turn the Nittany Lions have sat in the Top 25 for what will become on Sunday, 50 straight weeks, tied for the third best streak in program history. Coming out of the upcoming bye week will push that to 51 weeks, solo third in the program’s record books.

But the losses have stung and they have not been wild upsets, but rather defeats to foes relatively equal to the Nittany Lions. Their names ring through the Lasch Building hallways, the 11-and-2 brings both pride and disappointment. The 9-1 following that Michigan defeat reminds all of a classic Rose Bowl loss to USC as much as a Big Ten title. Penn State’s excellence has made its defeats nearly as memorable as its victories because they have been so rare and yet so high profile, the curse of success in a sport where almost everyone eventually fails. 

Nearly four years later on yet another rainy Saturday in East Lansing, James Franklin took to the podium as Barbour — flanked by Scott Sidwell, Esten’s heir — watched from inside their drenched raincoats.

This time there was no decision to be made, no larger program-defining crisis of faith to heal. Penn State was winning, and continues to win, this week a 28-7 against a Michigan State team that had vexed the Nittany Lions the past two years.

James Franklin is their guy.

From a distance Franklin seems to be the same man he was when he took the job. He is older and he has less to sell because few people need to be convinced of his product anymore, but he otherwise appears unchanged.

From up close there are changes as Franklin’s tenure rolls along. He is human, and losses to Michigan State, Michigan and Ohio State are a weight not easily removed from his legacy. Losing to those teams is to have made good on only part of the promise. Dominating the lower two thirds of the Big Ten is impressive, but Penn State’s success is judged by its performance against its alleged equals. The season is –fairly or not — defined not by the results of the games Penn State should win but by the ability to win the games it might actually lose.

So far that has been a mixed bag under Franklin, a 3-6 record against those four teams from 2016 heading into the 2019 season is not awful in the broadest sense, but it has short-circuited seasons with immense potential.

Franklin knows all of this. Now six years at Penn State, trends hold more weight and poor results are another data point in a longer stream. He finesses acknowledging that point more than he ever has. Following practice on Wednesday he admitted that ‘enough is enough’ and that he and the staff had to find a way to ‘get it done’ against a team that has been a thorn in their collective side.

Not long departed from the sidelines on Saturday, a nearly teary-eyed Franklin told reporters he was emotional after the game, going on to praise his assistants before collecting himself. The emotions that followed the victory came both in the form of frustration over a handful of conduct-related penalties and — while unspoken — the feat accomplished.

That feat has come over the past 14 days, albeit the product of months of work. Penn State and James Franklin have slowly reversed a trend of failure that has defined the two as much as their collective success. A win over Michigan, a win over Michigan State. A win, and then another, now eight straight.

That 3-6 record turned to 5-6, nearly .500 against the marquee programs in the Big Ten East. Franklin has done it with a team that was supposed to be rebuilding, and with a roster one could argue is the third significantly different one he has had in as many years.

‘It was a talking point that we were 1-4 of them over the past five years,’ safety Garrett Taylor said of Michigan on Saturday. ‘And then obviously the last two years we lost in a way (to Michigan State) that we’ve been trying to fix, in terms of closing out games. So to come up here on the road and really execute the game plan against a team we have a lot of respect for, it was big for us.’

Penn State’s weekly approach provides few opportunities to glimpse at the humanity of failure. Franklin’s responsibility to direct nearly 200 people towards a common goal allows for few moments of unguarded emotion surrounding his own career.

Nearly four years since the loss to Michigan, Franklin has let a slice of emotion slip through the gates, quotes and messages hidden between the lines which have told a story never directly stated: the losses bother him, they’ve become personal and the narratives he refuses to acknowledge might be outside noise he doesn’t listen to, but that doesn’t mean he’s deaf.

‘I’m very uncomfortable all the time,’ Franklin said following the game. ‘I get about three hours, on Saturday nights, when I’m not uncomfortable and I hope to keep that going. But I think we’re in a really good place, I think we’ve got a great locker room that cares and has love for each other. I’ve got really good coaches that really have my back as well.’

Franklin may live a good life, his challenges may come with exceptional fame and fortune, but he is also human.

And Saturday night meant just a little bit more than going 8-0. Even if he never says it out loud in front of the cameras.