Helter-skelter: “In chaotic and disorderly haste.”

Yeah, that’s a good way to sum up Southern California sports this past week.

In Phoenix, Dodgers ace Hiroki Kuroda went on the 15-day disabled list.

Back here in Los Angeles, the USC trio of DeMar DeRozan, Taj Gibson and Daniel Hackett thanked Tim Floyd for not accepting the Arizona job – they declared for the NBA Draft.

Over in Westwood, UCLA senior tight end Logan Paulsen injured his right foot in a scrimmage.

A few miles south in Carson, the Galaxy remained scoreless in consecutive games and winless for the season.

Even a few more miles south in Anaheim, the Ducks quacked their way into the Stanley Cup playoffs in the regular season home finale – about 10 weeks after head coach Randy Carlyle (jokingly) said they should have qualified.

Somewhere on the 405 freeway, Clippers forward Zach Randolph was arrested on suspicion of driving under the influence of alcohol, only days before his team was out-rebounded 62 to 34 by Minnesota and inched one game closer to summer vacation in a sputtering home loss to Portland.

Randolph will get off easy compared to Andrew Gallo, who thought he was man enough to drive his minivan despite allegedly downing a few alcoholic beverages. Charged with triple murder, Gallo’s poor driving judgment cost 22-year-old Angels starting pitcher Nick Adenhart his life.

In the demoralizing week since, we shed a few tears. We had our moments of silence and our tributes in Adenhart’s name. In retribution, Gallo may spend the rest of his life in prison.

But where is the outrage over how Adenhart lost his life?

The same outrage pet lovers had when Michael Vick was on trial for running an illegal dog-fighting ring. Or the outrage civil rights activists had when Don Imus ridiculed the Rutgers women’s basketball team.

Do not forget the outrage over Al Campanis’ racially insensitive comments on Ted Koppel’s “Nightline” in 1987, or the recent passionate outcry against steroid use in baseball.

Sure, these issues warranted public attention and some form of retribution. However, it seems to me we as a society have our priorities all jumbled, expressing our collective anger on issues with miniscule impact on human life.

When Yankees pitcher Joba Chamberlain was stopped by authorities for apparently driving under the influence, people were less up in arms about his irresponsibility for the lives he endangered, instead laughing at his rants about Yogi Berra’s height. When Charles Barkley was arrested for suspicion of drunk driving, he was able to return to his gig at TNT after a genuine apology.

Yet members of Congress were vehemently vocal against Vick’s dog-fighting operation.

Civil rights activists demanded Imus to never work in radio or television again.

Campanis was expelled from professional sports despite his otherwise significant contributions to front office management.

I am not condoning what these three people did, but how many human lives were claimed by Vick, Imus or Campanis? Yet weren’t human lives realistically threatened by Barkley and Chamberlain when they reportedly drove intoxicated?

We claim to be a society that values human life, yet we spend so much energy creating a stir over issues where human lives are not jeopardized. However, time and again, people decide to get behind the wheel after consuming alcohol. According to Alcohol Alert, 13,470 people, including 306 under the age of 14, lost their lives in traffic collisions involving an alcohol-impaired driver in 2006.

A combined zero human beings were killed or threatened by the likes of Campanis, Imus and Vick. We spoke up quite loudly against men like these, but when it comes to drunk driving deaths – which directly costs lives – all we do is sigh and shrug.

Where is our humanity? Why is our rage misplaced?