Guaranteed: Somewhere in America there’s a college football coach, earning upper six figures, a hero in the community, an elder at the church, wife and three kids, sick with worry that someone had a camera the night he took his prize recruit’s mom out for dinner, drinks and, well, you know how these things go.

Guaranteed: Somewhere out there a successful college basketball coach, five conference titles to his credit, beloved and respected, wonders if anyone knows about his Internet girlfriends.

Guaranteed: This country is littered with college coaches who are suddenly afraid to open the morning paper for fear of seeing their secret lives revealed to an increasingly jaded public.

You think it stops with Larry (Who’s Your Daddy?) Eustachy and Mike (My Wife Has A Shirt Just Like That) Price? Think again.

The kind of Type-A, self-made success story who can score a huge contract from a big university doesn’t usually content himself merely with a huge contract from a big university. The kind of guy who earns a life of privilege tends to avail himself of that privilege.

For Eustachy, the former Iowa State basketball coach, that meant frequenting campus parties, drinking himself into the land of Anyone Seen My Pants?, flirting with coeds half his age, and repeating as necessary. Caught on film by an enterprising young student, Eustachy’s guilty-as-charged pleasure wound up on the front page of his hometown paper.

Eustachy resigned under pressure Monday, albeit with nearly $1 million in take-a-hike money in his pocket.

For Price, Alabama’s football coach, that meant visiting a topless establishment while out of state for a charity golf tournament, then having a young woman not his wife bill one of everything on the room service menu to his hotel room the following morning.

Price was fired five months after he was hired. He never coached a game for Alabama. On the bright side, the chips-and-salsa platter was quite tasty.

That these two incidents have played out concurrently over the past week-and-change doesn’t necessarily place us in the eye of a witch hunt. This is more like a cautionary tale of convenience.

That it cost both men their jobs, well, you won’t find any recriminations here. When you accept millions of dollars to coach young men on behalf of institutions of higher learning, you should be held to a certain moral code. If you fail to live up to that moral code, it should be your employer’s right to replace you with someone who will.

This isn’t to suggest that every high profile college coach is a lecherous slug. There are decent men out there, from Duke’s Mike Krzyzewski, to Stanford’s Mike Montgomery, to, um, a whole bunch of guys.

But it’s a documented fact that a substantial percentage of college coaches consider themselves above the limits and boundaries of their profession, and those of society as a whole. For example, it is common practice for coaches to leave a job one step ahead of NCAA investigators. Or, more benignly, to simply ditch their recruits without warning in pursuit of a better opportunity.

True, coaches are held to a merciless standard. They either win or get fired. Eustachy and Price beat that standard, and spun their success into once-in-a-lifetime contracts. All the more reason, it says here, for them to accept their windfall with a certain amount of decorum.