America at Large: The New York Times is to be doubly congratulated, first for breaking this sordid story of sexual harassment on the slopes, and secondly, for coming up with a headline - SKELETON COACH SUSPENDED - guaranteed to get even my attention.

"Who, exactly, are 'the Skeletons'?" I found myself wondering.

In a week when half a dozen NFL coaches bit the dust, it was hardly surprising that one more coach was in hot water, but I thought I knew the nickname of every obscure team in the country.

My first thought was that the handle was a recently bestowed one, having been concocted by the student body of some institution of higher learning after the NCAA had outlawed its predecessor - "The Fighting Kickapoos" or some such - on the grounds that it was offensive to Native Americans.

If that were the case, I quickly surmised as I turned to the story, it was a clever ploy guaranteed to be NCAA-proof, given the unlikelihood of any actual skeletons rising up in protest of a nickname they felt derogatory.

Turns out I had it all wrong. "Skeleton", in this case, didn't describe a team at all, but an Olympic discipline. Apparently a skeleton is a rudimentary form of sled - an inflexible flyer, if you will.

Because Americans (presumably because they've had lots of practice in the age-old college pursuit of sliding down snow-covered hills on purloined cafeteria trays) seem to be better at this skeleton business than the rest of the world, our Olympic committee managed to have it adopted as an official event for the 2000 Winter Games in Salt Lake City.

And when both our men (Jim Shea Jnr) and women (Tristan Gale) captured gold medals, it was here to stay.

Official Olympic imprimatur inevitably spawns a new layer of bureaucracy. In short order, the United States Bobsled Federation became the United States Bobsled and Skeleton Federation (USBSF).

A full-time Olympic skeleton coach, Tim Nardiello, was appointed, as was a full-time assistant coach.

Then, a few days ago, as the skeleton crew were preparing to leave for Germany in advance of the Winter Olympics south in Turin, came word that the 45-year-old Nardiello had been suspended amid reports that he had made sexual advances and directed sexually explicit remarks to several female sledders, including Gale.

Since that first revelation the skeletons have come tumbling out of the closet.

It transpires that the federation had been receiving reports of Nardiello's lounge-lizard behaviour since 2002, when several athletes complained about his suggestive remarks.

At the time the coach was also accused of "barging into female athletes' hotel rooms while they were undressing".

The federation evidently spoke to Nardiello at that time and advised him to be more circumspect in his comportment.

"I think, I assume, we treated it seriously and looked into it," the federation's former executive director, Matt Roy, assured the Times. "In the end of it, I know I talked to Tim."

Even when the latest round of accusations arose, the federation's response was to refer the matter to a committee, which in turn recommended that the randy coach be quietly asked to submit his resignation - but only after the conclusion of the Winter Olympics.

Outraged by what appeared to be taking on the trappings of a face-saving cover-up, two female sledders - Gale, the 2000 gold medallist, and Felicia Canfield - fired off an e-mail to the federation detailing their charges.

They also helpfully copied said e-mail to the New York Times' Olympic correspondent, Lynn Zinser, which helps to explain how the paper was able to beat the competition on this story for three days running.

Exactly why the federation deemed Nardiello's presence in Turin essential remains a mystery. A skeleton race involves, essentially, no more than gravity. Since there are no external controls to steer a skeleton, much less make it go faster - or even slower - one can't help but wonder why it requires a coach (let alone two of them) at all.

Indeed, apart from the federation's bumbling response, this story would have been over almost as soon as it started, one more example of Men Behaving Badly.

With their hand forced by the Gale/Canfield e-mail, the USBSF next tried to refer the matter to the US Olympic Committee, but the USOC dumped it right back in the federation's lap when it declined to conduct a separate investigation.

"We're a governing body of the USOC, but I guess they didn't want to be a part of it. Now we're between a rock and a hard place," current federation president (and father of the 2000 Olympic skeleton champion) Jim Shea told the Times.

With the skeletons due to depart for Konigsee tomorrow, time was growing short. Shea appointed a three-member grievance committee, only to have one of their members, Nancy Pierpoint, almost immediately resign.

And since Pierpoint had criticised the whistle-blowing Canfield for coming forth in the first place, her absence from the body which will determine Nardiello's fate probably won't be helpful to the coach.

With his job hanging in the balance, Nardiello has, through his attorneys, asked for an expedited hearing, and will probably get one.

But even if the federation clears him - and he appears to have some high-powered support - the USOC could still decline to provide him with a credential for the Games.

And that would leave him out in the cold.