Sports

Recovering from scandal just latest in life of challenges for new Penn State coach

ATTLE TESTED: New Penn State coach Bill O’Brien and his family (above, from left, son Jack, who suffered from Lissencephaly, wife Colleen and son Michael, are no strangers to overcoming huge obstacles.

ATTLE TESTED: New Penn State coach Bill O’Brien and his family (above, from left, son Jack, who suffered from Lissencephaly, wife Colleen and son Michael, are no strangers to overcoming huge obstacles. (
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STATE COLLEGE, Pa. — Bill O’Brien has never once asked, “Why?”

“Why me?”

“What did I ever do to deserve this?”

“Why did three of the greatest blessings in life come with such tormenting, soul-testing asterisks?”

Overly dramatic, you say? Perhaps insensitive? Hold those questions with the grip that O’Brien, the former New England Patriots offensive coordinator, clamps on his play card. Hold it tight, because you will have to refer the complicated play card of Bill O’Brien’s life. It is not neat. It is riddled with asterisks.

We know life can be messy. Why, though, did so many blessings come with asterisks?

One of those blessings was when he landed his first head coaching job, his dream job. Yes, Penn State was the first place he fantasized about being the head coach.

His high school uniform at St. John’s Prep in Danvers, Mass., was comprised of vanilla-white helmets and black high tops. All that was missing was the thick, black-framed glasses.

What a blessing: The head coach at Penn State.

O’Brien knows, as he sits in his office where a picture of him and Pats quarterback Tom Brady looking at that play card has yet to be hung, that Penn State has become synonymous with the worst in college sports.

Many think the small type at the bottom of the page, where an asterisk gets it due, says his job is a career killer. O’Brien has yet to coach a game and his professional epitaph is being written.

“I just told him that we all have our crosses to bear,’’ said Central Florida coach George O’Leary, one of O’Brien’s mentors. “You’ve got to stand tall.’’

With those words ringing in his ears on July 23, O’Brien, in his 199th day at his dream job, stood in front of the Penn State players who had just received the NCAA’s version of the death-by-slow-torture penalty.

They could not play for a league or national championship or in a bowl game this year. Or next year. Or the year after that. Or the year after that.

They will be outmanned once the NCAA’s scholarship reductions — 10 per year for four years, and initial loss of 10 — kick in. Several players, including star running back Silas Redd (USC), already have transferred without penalty.

There was shock in the room. There was anger. There was confusion. There was sadness. There was silence.

There stood William James O’Brien, 42.

“I said to the guys in the room, ‘You know, we all have stories of adversity, a lot of families have many, many more stories than I have. But this is my own story of adversity — when my wife and I found out about our oldest son.’’

“That was a tough day. And what were we gonna do? Were we gonna quit? Were we gonna put Jack in a home. What were we gonna do? There was no question about what we were gonna do. We were gonna try to do the best job we can to give Jack the best life he can.’’

*

Jack O’Brien will turn 11 later this month, and he has known a life of love and laughter.

He can’t speak or walk or feed himself. But when Jack and his mom, Colleen, wearing a smart brown dress, come blowing into Bill’s office, the atmosphere lightens like a kite rising.

Jack tilts his head towards his father’s desk where there are two 4×6 pictures of Jack and his brother Michael, 7, side by side. Jack breaks into a little grin.

Jack was born with Lissencephaly, a rare neurological disorder. He has seizures that can temporarily stop his breathing.

You think it was a long hour that July 23 morning? Think of how torturous those scalding seconds feel when Jack has a seizure.

Think about how brutal that phone call was on the night on Sept. 13, 2003, when Colleen called Bill, who was in New Jersey recruiting for Maryland, and told her husband that their firstborn son had come with this catch.

“The first thing Bill said to me was, ‘What can we do?’ Is there a surgery or a treatment?’’ said Colleen. “Because that’s who he is. If there’s a problem, you just have to work to find the solution.’’

There was no solution; no 4th-and-23 call on the play card.

After the tears and sorrow of knowing his son would never walk down the aisle or play the piano, O’Brien, a Brown graduate, learned the life lesson that has sustained him these past seven months in State College.

“Billy and I grew up in this business,” said Syracuse coach Doug Marrone, one of O’Brien’s best friends, “so I’ve seen how much he cares about kids, but when Jack came into his and Colleen’s life, it gave him a whole new perspective.

“And that’s helping him today. Because he has these kids at Penn State that he really likes, he’s told me that. And they’re facing something that no one has ever faced. The night the sanctions were announced, he was already working on a plan — how to practice with less players, how to keep them healthy and how to win.’’

How to win? Penn State is getting gutted to 65 scholarship players.

“I’m telling you, he believes they’re still going to win,’’ said Marrone. “Remember, we’ve both coached in the NFL. You don’t have 85 guys, you have 46. If anyone can handle this, he can.’’

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Those were eerily similar to the words O’Brien heard when the second asterisk of life landed on him like an asteroid.

O’Brien was the offensive coordinator under O’Leary at Georgia Tech in 2001 when Notre Dame came calling. The two headed for South Bend, in a state of utter Irish euphoria.

Picture it: Two guys — O’Leary and O’Brien — going to work for Our Mother!?!

One problem: Years before, O’Leary, a tough Long Islander who never got anything he hadn’t worked for, lied about a graduate degree on his resume. He resigned five days after being hired.

O’Brien stayed in Atlanta. No Golden Dome. No Touchdown Jesus. Another asterisk.

“The big thing I told Billy is that the good Lord doesn’t close one door without opening another window,’’ O’Leary said. “I can vouch for that. I always thought Billy would overcome whatever was put in his way because of his perseverance.

“He never was content just to know the answer to a question. He wanted to know, why? Why are we running this? Why are using this formation. He’d keep asking until he got the answer.”

So let’s get this straight: The guy who never asked “Why me?” always asked “Why?”

“There are millions of people, millions of parents that have had to deal with setbacks in their lives,’’ O’Brien said. “I’ve been so fortunate. I had parents that worked hard and cared about me, cared about my education.

“I mean, you’ve got to have a little perspective. In coaching, just like in life, you’re going to have setbacks. I think of my wife, who’s the hero in our house. I think of Jack and Mike, both my sons, their smiles, and it helps calm the nerves.”

*

Lissencephaly is genetic in nature. If one child has it, there’s chance another child will have it, and doctors can’t test for it in utero.

What’s a parent to do? Risk bringing another child into this world? The O’Brien’s did. As soon as Colleen delivered Michael O’Brien, the baby was whisked off to have an MRI exam.

Colleen and Bill waited — a wait that leaves wrinkles in the soul. Would Michael have Lissencephaly, this smoothness of the brain?

The doctors returned and little Michael never will know the scene he caused. Tears like the Gatorade shower victorious players heap on their coach. The scan was clean.

“Jack is very calm, he smiles a lot, he’s got a great sense of humor, loves to laugh,’’ O’Brien said. “He’s a lot like his mom. He’s just got a really neat way about him.

“Michael is a lot like his dad. He’s got a lot of energy. He’s just on the move all the time and then he crashes at the end of the day.”

Michael and Jack have this bond you might not think possible. Jack lights up when Michael enters the room. Michael, with astonishing maturity for any kid, no less one who is 7, explains his brother’s condition to friends and it’s, “Game on!”

There are no asterisks here. They are brothers.

“Jack has given us tremendous perspective,’’ O’Brien said. “And then we have Michael, which gave us a lot perspective because Michael was healthy as a horse. He’s a typical 7-year-old.

“In a lot of ways this is life. This is what you have to deal with. There are millions of people dealing with things that we don’t know.’’

*

Just who the heck is Bill O’Brien? Better yet, who the heck was this blowhard on the sidelines wearing the Patriots pullover, ripping off his headset and ripping into Pats QB Tom Brady?

For most football fans, that was the first look at O’Brien. He wishes it hadn’t been caught on camera or wishes the cameras kept rolling to the next New England possession when he and Brady went back to work.

“We’re both pretty emotional guys,” Brady said after the game.

Yes, this O’Brien guy is pretty emotional. He has reason to be.

Asked his gut reaction to the penalties NCAA president Mark Emmert levied on Penn State, O’Brien said they were harsh. That’s an intellectual response, he was told.

“I was a little bit angry,’’ said the man that raged at Brady. “But you waste a lot of time being angry. You could sit here and be angry or you can figure it out. I like our plan.”

As much as any man, O’Brien knows plans can change in a phone call in the middle of the night. They can change because of an error in a resume or because of the sins of men that came before him.

On this Aug. 1 morning he must change his plans to meet Pennsylvania Gov. Tom Corbett, the man who as the state’s Attorney General in 2009 launched the investigation into Jerry Sandusky that brought down the Penn State program.

O’Brien is determined to bring up Penn State. He signs his autograph with the phrase, “We Will, Bill O’Brien.” He’s going to put names on the back of the jerseys that have been barren for as long as the Pennsylvania Turnpike.

Will it be enough? Can any coach overcome the staggering sanctions and stigma that have pummeled this program like a heavyweight’s 1-2 punch?

O’Brien has no choice. He signed a five-year deal (a clause in his contract automatically extended it four more years after the sanctions were levied) with a $4 million buyout.

That’s just paperwork. O’Brien wouldn’t walk away from this, wouldn’t kneel to adversity.

“I’ve never had a ‘Why me?’ moment and I’ll tell you why,’’ O’Brien said. “With these players here, all these guys, I really enjoy being around these kids. I come here every day and I see these guys walking in to work out and I think. ‘God, this why we’re here.

“It’s not a great situation right now, but maybe there’s a chance you can come out of this even stronger. Years from now, this will be how this team is measured.’’

lenn.robbins@nypost.com