No boundary yet discovered has successfully dammed Penn State's flood of errors this season, so it only made sense when, Saturday night, the errors metastasized from those committing them to those reporting them.

As weekend sports anchor Jon Burton readied to share the misnomered Penn State "highlights" with viewers on WTAE-TV's 11 p.m. Saturday newscast, a technical gaffe made Burton's job suddenly impossible. Footage of Penn State's 14-7 loss to Northwestern earlier that afternoon was somehow displaced by a clip from a ribbon-cutting ceremony at the newly expanded Children's Museum of Pittsburgh, thus delaying the Lions' highlights by several minutes.

But even while Burton sidestepped the glitch with a laugh, viewers couldn't help but wonder if the television station was simply doing them a favor.

Better to see ribbons falling apart that an entire football team.

Minutes later, with the technical problem corrected, Penn State fans got their highlights, but they where spared this warning from weary fullback Paul Jefferson, who said, following the Lions' sixth consecutive loss, "Things could always be worse. They are bad now, but they could always go from bad to worse."

Indeed, with only two games remaining in Penn State's calamitous season, players have endured one cruel twist after the next, and have been trained to always expect more. With a game this week against perennial Big Ten doormat Indiana, one can easily imagine the next portending indignity.

The losing has pushed Penn State players to the edge of madness. Though the next two games have absolutely no meaning by the standard measures -- Penn State's postseason hopes are zilch, as are its chances of salvaging a respectful season -- the Lions seemingly need a win to restore sanity. Just to prove to themselves they can do it.

In the Beaver Stadium media room after the Northwestern game, players spoke with crestfallen disbelief that their repeated hard work could go unrewarded. Sullen senior Zack Mills looked and sounded like a shell of the player who, just three years ago, was touted with the potential to be the best quarterback in school history. Cornerback Alan Zemaitis said that when he left the field after the loss, he wanted to put his hand through a concrete wall.

"You never want to get where losing is a habit, like where you start to get comfortable with it," Zemaitis said. "That's when it starts to get real bad. I've been on teams like that. We're not to that point yet, but we've got to get a 'W.' "

That, perhaps, touches at Penn State's psychological frustrations. It undeniably owns the identity of a loser. And the players struggle to live with it.

Especially the defense, which has been burdened by an offense that has scored only four touchdowns in six Big Ten games, seems sick from carrying the weight. Against the Wildcats, the Penn State defense bent more than usual, allowing 391 total yards and 212 rushing yards. Players allowed that a season full of strong performances constantly going for naught are perhaps taking a toll.

"It's extremely hard," lineman Tamba Hali said.

Said Zemaitis: "I mean, I look at it like, if we weren't trying to make this a defensive game every game, we would be getting blown out. ... So the onus is on us to keep it up. If we start slacking at all, it could get ugly out there."

Fans, too, have had to live with the losing during this, the second six-game losing streak of coach Joe Paterno's career. (The previous streak happened last year.)

When players talk to family members or fellow students, they hear opinions -- often unsolicited -- about the team's problems.

"I think everyone has a solution," Jefferson said. "All they know is, Penn State isn't winning. And that's very atypical. Take the big picture into consideration. You can understand why people would be upset. Some people wait all year for this, you know? It's their life."

Living with the losing, and hearing about it, has become a constant for Penn State. For a team that began the season hoping for a conference championship, the Lions' goals have been reduced to humbling proportions. Now, they're just desperate for a win.

When, who knows. And how?

"You have to just go to the drawing board, I guess," Zemaitis said. "I'm sick of saying it every week."