Episode Details

Matt made signs and took them to the recent games and sent a letter to the President of Penn State University to support Terry Smith.

It seems like you are under a lot of pressure to deliver a national championship. You may not remember me, but we met briefly in the Marriott lobby the day before the Rose Bowl. You were kind enough to record a quick, encouraging message for my friend's wife while she was battling cancer. That moment stayed with me—and with my friend—for a very long time. That video meant more to their family than you could ever know. From a fan of over 30 years who embodies what it means to be a true Penn State supporter, I'll be brave enough to say this: it is okay if we do not win a national championship. If we define success solely—or even primarily—by that single standard, we risk losing the joy, purpose, and identity of what it truly means to be a Penn Stater. If we stay true to the mission and values Penn State Football has always stood for, the results—and the championships—will come in time. I say that not because I don't want to see Penn State win a national championship in my lifetime. I absolutely do. I say it because of what I've observed across the college football landscape—the game I love—where an unreasonable belief has taken hold among countless fan bases, a belief that has distorted—and in many cases captured—the love, enjoyment, and true purpose of what college football is all about. There is a growing notion that because of the transfer portal and constant player movement, national championships can be won overnight. And if they are not, then the season—and even the purpose of a football program—is labeled a failure. That belief is utterly false. Would it be the worst thing in the world to pause for a moment and reflect on what our true mission is for Penn State Football in this process?

• Is it to win at all costs?

• Is it to make every last penny possible?

• Or is it to build something we can proudly tell our kids—and the next generation—about, something "We Are" proud to protect and build?

I've been a Penn State fan for over 30 years. I've collected more than 100 game-worn jerseys, flown all over the country for bowl games, and flown back several times a year while living in Hawaii—often a 35-hour round trip—just to be in Beaver Stadium supporting my team. I also took my son to his first Penn State game at just five months old—the Rose Bowl. Along the way, I've formed genuine relationships with other fans, coaches, and players because my support has always been authentic and rooted in love for this program. Some people know me simply as Matt from pennstatejerseys on Instagram. After tough losses, I still find myself asking a familiar question: Why do I watch Penn State Football?

The answer never changes—it's the people, not just the outcome. Every fall Saturday, Beaver Stadium is packed, and "We Are" chants unite this community in a way nothing else can. I also want to be transparent. I am the individual who printed 150 "Hire Terry Smith" signs and personally handed them out at the Nebraska game—followed by another 500 signs at the Rutgers game. I did this for one reason only: to show visible, genuine support for a man who has spent his career serving Penn State without fanfare, leverage, or entitlement. This was not about attention, pressure, or influence. It was about standing up for a coach who does not have a powerful agent shaping his narrative, who is not represented by a major agency, but who has consistently served this university with humility and loyalty—without asking much of anything in return. It was a simple gesture of respect—for service, commitment, and belief in what Penn State Football is supposed to represent.

I want my children to care deeply about things—and to see that their father did everythin