STATE COLLEGE, Pa. — James Franklin waited near the Beaver Stadium end zone for nearly every one of his players to leave the field, surveying and scanning for any potential signs of trouble almost as much as the Penn State head coach was there to offer up a warm embrace and a few words of solace.
Many of his players were still processing what they had witnessed, how a 21-point run across the fourth quarter and first overtime resulted in a game that was there for the taking by the No. 3 Nittany Lions against a big-time opponent—only for it to end in the same painful way.
A late interception, reminiscent of the final play of their semifinal loss to Notre Dame, out of the hand of Nittany Lions quarterback Drew Allar and into Ducks safety Dillon Thieneman’s grip, was a touch of extra trauma in the 30–24 double-overtime loss to No. 6 Oregon.
Franklin is used to such lingering after losses, a veteran at figuring out which coping mechanisms work best for each player. He’s suffered through 43 of them in his current job, the byproduct of blessed longevity in a profession that offers anything but. Yet, few stung quite as much as this one because of how it reinforced the ongoing story about a coach who has won an impressive 104 times in blue and white but cannot come close to winning the ones that truly matter.
“I get the frustration. That comes with a fan base that is invested and cares. I get it,” said a remarkably level Franklin. “I kind of look at the entire picture and I get that narrative. And it’s really not a narrative, it’s factual. It’s facts.
“At the end of the day, we’ve got to find a way to win those games. I totally get it, and I take ownership and I take responsibility.”
If there was an air of resignation with such a statement, it shouldn’t be too surprising. This is simply who the derogatorily nicknamed “Big Game James” is. At least he’s owning it.
He’s a quality program builder, sure. But a coach incapable of getting over a hump that looks like Mount Everest standing tall among the rolling hills of Pennsylvania. Franklin is now 4–21 against teams ranked in the top 10 of the AP poll, with the latest addition to the ledger speaking almost as loud as the previous 20 did—combined.
Worse, just one of those four wins came against a Big Ten opponent and even that one required a near divine intervention on special teams.
No matter how hard Franklin tries, no matter how many first-round NFL draft choices he produces or marquee bowl games he manages to get the Nittany Lions to, he cannot get the job done.
The only question at this point, with two more massive games still on the horizon against Indiana and Ohio State, is whether he will realize a change of scenery is needed first or if the Penn State brass will realize that throwing good money after bad is borderline reckless for an institution that means so much to far more than the 111,015 who showed up for the latest loss.
Across the Big Ten, and at several other spots around the country, Franklin’s results would be lauded. Athletic directors would jump at somebody who can get a program to be in regular contention for College Football Playoff bids and come within a whisker of making it to the national championship game.
“I’ll be the first to go into the fire,” said Allar, who preceded his game-sealing interception with two touchdowns to extend the game. “There’s no other coaching staff or team that I’d rather go to war with, and I know we’ve got to make the most of this opportunity.”
Will anybody trust the quarterback, head coach or even the Nittany Lions program to do so at this point though? Even those wearing blue-tinted glasses would say not one bit.
Saturday night was case in point. There was little urgency from Allar to start the game and no recognition, by Franklin or offensive coordinator Andy Kotelnicki, that the game plan needed to be scrapped and more tempo was necessary. The signal-caller, who had NFL scouts believing he was a top five pick, finished with a measly 137 yards on 14 completions and was barely able to keep the team moving on a night where neither of its star tailbacks could muster more than one run longer than 15 yards.
“I tried to get it over the linebacker’s head,” a downtrodden Allar remarked of his final throw. “Obviously it hurts. We had opportunities. I think that’s kind of the, unfortunately, the bright side of it. We had opportunities at the end to come back and win.”
Opportunities sure, but ones that were seized upon by the Ducks and their swaggering head coach, Dan Lanning, who seems to have the correct mix of confidence and moxie that allows his team to take advantage of all of its resources to triumph in the big games they’ve played a little more often.
Oregon had the better quarterback, a far more prepared team and barely noticed the chest-thumping decibels thrown their way from the white-out crowd, which typically makes Happy Valley one of the hardest places to win in.
Instead, the visitors embraced the opportunity to show what the Ducks were capable of, not cowering as a result of anything close to the house of horrors Penn State supporters kept making it out to be.
“We said the white-out was going to be a white canvas for us today,” Lanning said with only the slightest of grins.
They can hang the effort in the Ducks’ Death Star of a facility back in Eugene, Ore., but it might as well be a death warrant for the opposing head coach who was responsible for signing it.
“The game came down very similar to what we expected it to come down to—first down was going to be critical in this game. We weren’t able to get anything going early in the game on offense and then we got into obvious passing situations, third-and-long, which was not a great situation for our quarterback,” Franklin said. “We’re gonna watch this tape. I think we’re going to feel like we had tons of opportunities to win this game. There’s going to be a lot to learn from it.”
What lessons need to be learned that haven’t already? Penn State was not able to get ahead of the sticks on offense. Again. They were behind the sticks on defense, including on five Oregon fourth-down conversions, again. They infuriatingly struggled to move the ball effectively on offense
No wonder that at halftime, the Nittany Lions mustered 69 yards of total offense, three points and dozens of audible boos from the crowd on hand that knew how this story was going to end despite the brief flourish in the fourth quarter that got their hopes up.
Perhaps that’s why, when Franklin finally exited the field, he barely twitched at the cacophony of insults that were hurled his way by students and fans who had inched up to the railing to let their head coach get one more reminder of his shortcomings in colorful language not fit for print.
Perhaps those who couldn’t be bothered, the ones who truly matter who are ponying up to revitalize Beaver Stadium, were thinking instead about backing the Brink’s truck up and sending it west to Bloomington, Ind., to hire someone capable of doing more with less like Curt Cignetti. He got his head coaching start 90 miles east of Happy Valley, off the beaten path on your way back to Pittsburgh at, funnily enough, Indiana University of Pennsylvania.
There, in the self-proclaimed Christmas Tree Capital of the World, was where a little-known former Nick Saban assistant really learned how to win games you’re expected to and pull the upset when you’re not. That might serve him well at a place like Penn State.
Heck, those with deep pockets might as well inquire about Lanning while they’re at it, given what he has shown in just four years in charge.
At some point for the Nittany Lions, something has to change at the top. The definition of insanity is doing something the same over and over again and expecting different results.
Penn State has changed coordinators time after time and not been outspent doing so either. It has amped up recruiting efforts. It has turned the ship around with NIL and is as well positioned as just about any program in that area.
The lone constant through it all is Franklin, who seems to be so intimately familiar with losing a big game that it’s second nature to him at this point.
Unfortunately for Penn State, it’s what comes after that which he seems incapable of figuring out.
