When Brian Stow was beaten nearly to death in L.A. nearly five months ago, the outrage and horror were palpable across the country.

People shook their heads and asked each other what the world was coming to.

Random violence and senseless acts of cruelty are not new to the world, or the country, sadly. They happen every day, so often, in fact, that we've become almost numb to them.

But Brian Stow's story resonated more widely and stayed in the public eye so much longer because of where it happened, and why: outside Dodgers' Stadium, and because Stow, a Giants' fan, had the temerity to where a jersey of his favorite team to show his support at their SoCal rival's home-opener.

Yes, Brian Stow was beaten nearly to death because he was rooting for the wrong team.

He's still in the hospital, if you're keeping score at home.

The story gradually faded into the background, as these types of stories almost always do. The global economy was in freefall. Wars and revolutions rippled across the landscape. Politicians dickered and dithered. The NFL lockout ended. The NBA lockout began.

But this past Saturday night, once again in California but this time further north, in Brian Stow's hometown of San Francisco, ironically, another spasm of violence broke out at yet another professional sporting event.

This time the venue was San Francisco's storied Candlestick Park, home of the 49ers, and site of a preseason game against San Francisco's cross-bay rival, the Oakland Raiders.

This time the victim was a 24-year-old Raiders fan who chose to support the Silver ad Black by wearing a t-shirt that read, in part, "F----- the Niners."

He was shot, several times, according to reports, in the stomach. He was left in the parking lot, like so much trash, to die. As of this writing the victim was still alive. Barely. A "person of interest" was being sought by police.

One other person was shot in the parking lot, though his wounds are apparently less severe. And, for good measure, another man was beaten in a restroom.

I went to high school in Massachusetts, where hockey is king and games are taken seriously. Players' talents and accomplishments often translate into generous scholarships to prestigious colleges and universities.

But even there, even then, in high school, the viciousness and unpredictability of the mob was often on display. Too often it was parents who pushed too far, screaming and howling at opponents and officials alike. Enabled and energized by the people who should've known better, it was no wonder that students followed suit.

There was no violence, at least then, but looking back on it I'm not certain it was anything other than dumb luck that prevented it.

I coached Little League baseball when I lived in Ohio, and that was no better. I love baseball, and I love Little League. The Little League World Series, now being telecast on ESPN, is one of my must-see-TV events of the year. But too often the parents and coaches lost sight of what was supposed to be going on in front of them; this was a game, a diversion, a chance to bond with and learn from others, an opportunity to grow and become more than you were. What they too often made it was gladiatorial combat, win at all costs match-ups where second-place was too often sneered at as the first-place loser.

Nice.

College athletics, while full of too many feel-good stories that never see the light of day, is more and more defined by criminality, theft and thuggery. And that's just the grownups, the coaches and boosters and administrators who are supposed to serve as examples and mentors for the still-malleable young men and women entrusted to them.

Remember the Alabama "fan" that spiked the 130-year-old oak trees that stand on Toomer's Corner at Auburn University? He was 62! Are you kidding me?

Over the last 18 months alone Auburn, Georgia Tech, LSU, Michigan, Ohio State, Oregon, UNC and USC have all either been sanctioned or threatened with sanction by the NCAA for a laundry list of violations.

These are supposed to be institutions of higher learning.

Now, people might say I've derailed, that I've lost my train of thought. What does all this have to do with a couple isolated incidents of thuggery out in California? A lot, I'd say.

People will tell you it's all about alcohol sales at sporting events. You wait. They will. And I won't dispute that drunk and stupid go together like Bonnie and Clyde.

But the problem's deeper than that.

The problem's that people have forgotten what we were all supposed to learn back on sandlots, in Little League, on soccer fields, in swimming pools, wherever we got our first taste of sports of any kind. It was supposed to be fun. It was supposed to bring people together. It was supposed to provide an escape from the uglier world around us.

But somehow the ugly's gotten in, into the very heart of it. And now people are trying to kill each other.

Over games.

So clean it up. Remember what's at stake.

Or someone's going to take their ball and go home.