If you're a parent whose children love sports, you've probably been focused on Penn State University.
And my guess is, you're sick to your stomach and thinking about the predators out there, the ones that hunt children and use youth sports as cover.
At Penn State it's all crisis management and agendas and process and finger-pointing, as administrators' heads are lopped off and fact-finding commissions are formed in the hopes of studying what went wrong.
But that's all a bunch of public relations garbage, as if their writs and commissions and carefully lawyered-up anguish can make up for the young souls who've been torn.
What went wrong, simply is this:
The vaunted Penn State football program looked the other way when a 10-year-old boy was allegedly raped in the shower by Jerry Sandusky, the former and legendary defensive coordinator who had been the subject of a previous investigation of sexual predation.
Sandusky had been working with young boys as part of a charity he founded to help at-risk children. He's accused of molesting eight of them. According to the grand jury report, a young Penn State graduate assistant walked in on the older Sandusky and the 10-year-old boy on the evening of March 1, 2002.
According to the report, the graduate assistant, since identified as Penn State assistant coach Mike McQueary, entered the locker room and was "surprised to find the lights and showers on. ... He saw a naked boy, Victim 2, whose age he estimated to be 10 years old, with his hands up against the wall."
Sandusky was raping the boy, according to the report, which explains what the graduate assistant did next:
"The graduate assistant left immediately, distraught."
He left, immediately, distraught?
He didn't stop them. He didn't shout. He didn't grab Sandusky by the ear and kick his leg out from under him and send him to the floor. He didn't club him with a chair or hit him with a fist. He didn't protect that boy.
Instead, McQueary protected himself, and ran away and called his father.
The next morning, according to the report, McQueary informed legendary head coach Joe Paterno. And the old coach called two other university officials and they began to cover it up. Paterno didn't call police.
On Wednesday, the old man said he would retire at the end of this season, but later that night he was fired.
"I am absolutely devastated by the developments in this case," he was quoted as saying Wednesday. "I grieve for the children and their families, and I pray for their comfort and relief."
I don't know a sports fan that isn't saddened by what's happened to Paterno. But if he does care about the children, then he should have resigned long ago.
It isn't the first scandal in sport and it isn't the last. It's the kind of thing that stings, but public relations consultants are paid to soothe such hurts, and all that cash from college football helps dull the pain.
Official anger will be spent and then siphoned off, and commissions will discuss pathologies in organizations like football programs or the church, hierarchies that protect their own at the expense of the vulnerable.
So there will be stages: first disgrace, and then a made-for-TV comeback a few years from now, and the drums will thump and the horns will play, and Penn State's shame will be, if not forgotten, at least numbed.
And then, with more hype and a perhaps a Heisman Trophy winner or a national championship run, it'll all fade away. It'll become nothing. And those who insist on speaking of it will be treated as if they've become ill.
But that 10-year-old boy won't forget. And parents don't have the luxury of forgetting either. Parents can't forget a thing. They must always be vigilant, on the lookout for the human hyenas who hunt children to sexually abuse.
I don't mean this as an indictment of youth sports or coaches. I've coached myself and love it. And my experience is that the good coaches are the ones who continually press for more extensive background checks.
And good coaches know -- as do wise parents -- that the hyenas aren't just looking for any child. They're looking for that special victim. The one they can take without fear of being hurt themselves.
So they look for the child with indifferent or stupid or nonexistent parents, the parents who don't come to practice and eyeball the coach.
They look for that child who is alone in the group. The child who needs a friend.
They look for that child of a single mother who is tired and overwhelmed and desperate for a strong male role model for her boy.
Does this sound harsh? Have I hurt someone's feelings? That's unfortunate, but I'm not really sorry. If you're not a parent and you're offended, then too bad. The child is more important than your feelings.
But if you are a parent, and you've read about Penn State, you can't be offended. Frightened, yes. Sickened, of course. Offended?
If you know any judges, prosecutors, police officers, psychiatrists, then ask them and they'll tell you.
Hyenas hunt where they can find easy prey.
John Kass is a columnist for the Chicago Tribune. Readers may send him email at firstname.lastname@example.org.