The astonishing and disheartening revelations of alleged sexual abuse at Penn State University may well be the worst scandal (it's so serious I almost hate to use that word) in the history of American sport.

Accusations against former assistant coach Jerry Sandusky have thrown the program into disarray and have tarnished the legacy of one of the sport's most revered head coaches, 84-year old Joe Paterno. He was relieved of his duties Thursday (Australian time) and will not coach this weekend's home game against Nebraska.

Paterno is one of American sport's more remarkable stories. The son of Italian immigrants, he studied English literature at Brown University before embarking on a coaching career. Paterno coached at Penn State for 46 years, built one of the country's most envied football programs both on and off the field and led the Nittany Lions to two national championships.

As a head coach, Paterno seemed to have his priorities in order. He disliked showboating and insisted that his teams wear drab blue and white uniforms. As much as possible he tried to recruit players with good character. His team's graduation rate was quite high for a so-called ‘football factory.'

That's partly why this is such a mind-blowing development. As horrific as the emerging details are, the most bizarre thing for many sports fans - and especially those in Pennsylvania - is that it came from such an unexpected place.

We need to be clear here. Paterno is not accused of a crime. According to reports, when informed of sordid and criminal activity by Sandusky (much of this is still vague and will come out during legal proceedings) Paterno did fulfill his legal duties by reporting what he'd been told to his superiors.

What he didn't do was realise that this aberrant and abhorrent behaviour required more than a simple report. Paterno, most people believe, had what's been termed a ‘moral obligation' to do more. The fact that he didn't and inexplicably allowed Sandusky to remain close to the football program, made Paterno's position untenable.

This got me thinking about where this burgeoning "Penn State scandal" stands when compared with some of the most startling and mind-blowing stories that have rocked the world of US sports. There have been hundreds of tawdry, sordid scenarios, but rarely are they as surprising - or as terrible - as this.

Michael Vick, currently the quarterback of the Philadelphia Eagles, spent 19 months in federal prison for financing and participating in a dogfighting ring. He was also found guilty of killing and torturing dogs. That such a high-profile, amazingly-talented athlete could be caught doing such a heinous thing made it the biggest sport story of 2007.

Vick, however, was not like Paterno. In fact, he was the type of athlete Penn State wouldn't have recruited. Vick seemed to revel in portraying an outlaw, gangster image and had numerous run-ins with the law prior to the dogfighting revelations.

Yes, the extent of Vick's involvement was shocking, as were the admissions that he had helped to kill dogs. But as Vick defenders pointed out, there was a sense of cultural acceptance (no matter how twisted it may seem to the rest of the world) of dogfighting in the rural American South.

The O.J. Simpson case, is probably a better parallel to draw in terms of the shock factor.

Simpson, like Paterno, was highly regarded by most Americans. He was of course, a remarkable football player, winning the Heisman Trophy at USC and going on to become one of the NFL's greatest-ever players. But he was also a well-liked commentator, a movie actor and the star of TV commercials. In short, he seemed to have everything going for him.

So when the story broke (on the opening night of the 1994 World Cup by the way), it was hard to believe that the man in the white Bronco was Simpson. It just didn't make sense.

The story then got stranger and more tragic, of course, when we found out about the deaths of Nicole Simpson and Ron Goldman. The subsequent murder trial and its aftermath became one of the strangest chapters in not just sport, but American culture.

As far as college sport is concerned, it's hard to go past the horrific Baylor University basketball scandal of 2003. Head coach Dave Bliss ran a reckless program and was accused of recruiting violations, paying players and turning a blind eye to drug use. The out-of-control situation culminated with the death of forward Patrick Dennehy, who was murdered by friend and teammate Carlton Dotson.

Bliss resigned and Baylor was severely punished by the NCAA for its lack of control over the program. Without sounding callous, Baylor basketball was not on the same level as Penn State football and Bliss hardly as relevant nor as respected as Paterno.

And then there was SMU. The biggest scandal to date in college football history, Southern Methodist University - as documented in the superb ESPN film "Pony Excess" - maintained a winning program in the 1980's by paying players from an illegal slush fund. It doesn't sound so bad now, but it was stunning at the time. SMU officials, coaches and boosters showed a bold and blatant disregard for the rules and gave the Mustangs an absurd competitive advantage.

When the NCAA learned about these violations, SMU was penalised. Amazingly, a few boosters continued to make payments to players and when they were caught again, the NCAA invoked the so-called "death penalty." The entire 1987 season was cancelled (the school voluntarily skipped the '88 season), the program lost scholarships and it all but ensured that SMU would struggle for years to get back to a competitive level of football.

It's still the harshest penalty ever given an athletic program and the only time the NCAA has elected to use this powerful punishment option. Whether it chooses to do so with Penn State is sure to be discussed in a later chapter of this ongoing saga. Right now, we still have to deal with the fallout from this extraordinary chain of events. It's ugly and I'm afraid it could get even uglier.