Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: FRIDAY, November 5, 1993 TAG: 9311050022
SECTION: VIRGINIA PAGE: B-1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: ed shamy
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
That happened again on Tuesday.
But it has become a one-sided argument. Government's waste of tax money is the stuff of legend.
But what of the other side? The one we don't hear about so often? What about the knot-headed demands of the citizenry?
You needn't look far.
Roanoke didn't raise its property tax rates this year, which sent bean counters scurrying for soft spots to hack out of the budget with cleavers and calculators.
Ruth Wilkinson was told to trim her budget for adult and youth recreational sports by $7,000.
No sacred cow, that budget. It has been cut before.
Wilkinson devised two options to save the money. One was to eliminate one kids' sport. The city underwrites 80 percent of the cost for T-ball, baseball, soccer, football and basketball. Players - players' parents, really - pay the rest.
That seemed an awfully unsavory option to Wilkinson.
She chose another path.
For starters, she figured to see how the money stretched before deciding how many teams would qualify for playoffs in all sports.
Playoffs for all teams mean more referee paychecks, more lights, more field grooming, more scorers' fees. The more we play, the more it costs. Limiting the playoffs to top finishers would mean less expense for the city.
And Wilkinson eliminated trophies and plaques for the teams that win the championships and their runners-up.
They cost $4 per player, and with 5,500 youngsters playing city sports during the course of the year, the money piles up.
Plaques are nice mementos, but expendable - just visit any yard sale this weekend, and you can pick up a dozen of recent vintage for a song. Few are the trophies cherished beyond the next awards banquet.
Besides, many teams buy mementos for their own players and present them at parent-sponsored get-togethers at season's end.
Wilkinson advised coaches that there would be no more trophies. The rule took effect July 1, with the new budget.
Soccer, one of the city's most popular youth sports, is now ending its season. Teams are winning championships.
Wilkinson figured to let the top finishers in the 40 bazillion divisions play for the championships. And there arose a great howl of indignation.
She relented. All teams are in the playoffs.
A mom - a soccer mom - incensed that her son wouldn't be getting a city plaque after his team's historic championship season, called me this week. She complained as if her son's very self-esteem were being quashed by tight-fisted big government.
Lighten up, lady, and loosen your purse strings. If it's so important to the kid, buy him a trophy he can tuck into his underwear drawer when he tires of looking at it next Thursday.
By the time every single soccer player in Roanoke has booted his or her last squibber in the last playoff game, there will be more gripes like that mom's. Bet the ranch on it.
The message from voters may be clear, but it isn't flattering: Spend less money on somebody else. Keep spending on me.
by CNB