We've got another scandal in youth sports, and the reactionaries are in full froth. No fathers were killed or maimed by other fathers in the filming of the latest debacle, but the international scavenger hunt surrounding Danny Almonte's birth certificate(s) is being played out as a modern-day morality tale.

We're told Almonte's being 14 is an outrage, a shame, yet another desecration of all we hold dear as a nation. In reading this stuff, you envision the guy taking a hit of oxygen every few sentences, just to make it through.

The truth is, youth sports and Little League have been cesspools of corruption and misplaced values -- well before Danny Almonte was thinking about getting his driver's license.

The Associated Press spoke to Danny Arias, a 28-year-old shopkeeper in the Dominican. "This is not only hurting Danny, this is hurting the future of all Dominican ballplayers."

And please, spare us the what-will-we-tell-the-children angle. There are agents and scouts and "advisors" down there right now, looking for more Almontes, wherever they reside in the 12-to-20 demographic.

So let's be positive. Let's call the glass half full and look at the life Danny Almonte was living before his cover got blown.

For one, he got to beat up (figuratively) on little kids and get praised for it. He got honored coast-to-coast for it, in fact.

Then we find out -- here's the kicker -- that Danny Almonte hasn't even been going to school. This is the absolute dream life for any boy in the 12-to-18 demographic. What had he been doing for the past 18 months? His father, contacted by the New York Daily News said, "He has been eating ... and he has been playing ball."

Wait a minute. Danny's endless summer is supposed to be a sad story? He probably gets chocolate milk at every meal and ice cream for breakfast.

Here's how it looks from here: He's eating, he's playing ball and he's not going to school. If he's also tossing his underwear on the floor for someone else to pick up, issuing the random "No comment" and getting a regular dose of "Jerry Springer", he's ready for the big leagues right now.

This Week's List

Yellers: Monica Seles and Al Leiter.

The best thing to come out of the Hasim Rahman-Lennox Lewis-Gary Miller hugfest: Unexpected and long-overdue airtime for Mitch Green.

We're looking for images and stories -- fires in 55-gallon drums, tattered clothing, old-time union songs, mortgage foreclosures and hungry children: When they're not hard-core union guys, the NFL refs are a bunch of CEOs, college professors and business owners.

We all love our homers, homers, homers ... and yet: The Rangers lead the big leagues in homers and are in last place.

Unexplainable phenomenon No. 1230: Interviewers who can stare down genocidal warlords inevitably get all jelly-legged and moon-eyed when given the opportunity to interview a big-time athlete.

The latest example of No. 1230 in action: Mike Wallace with Roger Clemens.

By the way: That's quite a "Shrine To Me" Clemens has put together in his home.

Congratulations, Einstein, you enter the ranks of adult humans who can tell the difference between one and two fingers: The manager of the Florida Little League team, who decided to coach first base in his game against the Bronx so he could steal the catcher's signs.

Just for the heck of it: Marcus Dupree.

For those who believe in karma, more evidence: Since he blasted Barry Bonds, Jeff Kent has been so anemic at the plate he was dropped to fifth in the Giants' order.

Unbelievable but conceivable: Bonds has a shot at finishing the year with an on-base percentage above .500.

Just another case of men's tennis, trying to compete: Michal Tabara spit at Justin Gimelstob after losing their first-round match, causing Gimelstob to vow to "beat his ass."

Better not let Charles Oakley find out about this: Phil Mickelson apparently violated PGA policy when he won $500 in a bet with Mike Weir, even though he couldn't collect because Weir was carrying only $100.

So don't be surprised when he shows up at the Masters wearing a JIMMY GOLDFINGER cap: Mickelson also made $560,000 in Vegas last year by placing a preseason bet on the Ravens.

Expect them to last: Roy Oswalt and C.C. Sabathia.

Tolerable for a while, but now it's as old and irritating as that guy sitting behind home plate, talking on his cell phone and waving at the camera: The whole "(Team)-Nation" cliché -- Gator Nation, Duck Nation, Red Sox Nation (the first, I think), Raider Nation.

And finally, why find a new story when the old one still works?: In D.C., they're discussing whether Jeff George's great arm and wonderful physical skills will translate into a Super Bowl run for their team.

Tim Keown is a senior writer for ESPN The Magazine. E-mail tim.keown@espnmag.com.