18… That’s all

The small, cramped, somewhat elongated closet was jammed with about 20 people and labeled a board room. It was hot, humid, and the air was full of tension, apprehension and misunderstanding. Not exactly a charming place to make a presentation.

D’Anna Piro and Justin Wagner, two current student athletes, along with a few Athletic Department staff members sat facing a group of ASOSU members. Piro and Wagner were probably sweating. The combination of high temperature and humidity would make anyone perspire but they had the added pressure of talking to a room full of people from a different world. The only thing the two sides had in common the word goal. But even that was laced with double and triple meanings.

The battle began as a simple proposal for a student fee hike to help cover the cost of student tickets and help bring in more money to the Athletics Department which, as some people know, is in the middle of a deficit. Mark Spencer, one of the Athletic Department staff, put it best when he said that athletics was, “looking for ever penny, nickel and dime.”

Sure, the football team has won four straight bowls, the baseball team has back-to-back national championships, the gymnastics team has gone been ranked in the top 25 as long as anyone can remember and the softball team as been to Oklahoma for the past few years but that doesn’t equal 100% revenue. There are transportation costs, food, housing, coaching salaries and bonuses. Add to that a raised Reser, renovated Gill, Gill Annex and Goss expansion and the Athletic Department is feeling the pinch.

That’s where the reservations begin. By the end the board room chatter circled around motions and points of clarifications. No dismounts, no free throws, no two-point conversions, no buzzer. And something even more befuddling to athletes: no victory – for either side. Government tends to do that to sports. Government has a way of interrupting the natural flow of sports. It’s the proverbial dam in the stream of athleticism.

Sports use logic and instinct to dictate moves. If something blocks your path, go around it, over it or through it. Problem solved. The only time someone calls for a “motion” is on a basketball court. The only time an athlete asks for a point of clarification is, well, never. It’s unnecessary.

For the student fans out there, here is a point of clarification: The Athletic Department sees the “student section” as 6,000 tickets in Reser Stadium, 2,500 tickets in Gill Coliseum, 500 tickets in Goss Stadium and 100 tickets at the softball complex. And all of those tickets are currently sold to students, through fees, at 27.2% of the total cost of the ticket. And without some kind of student fee increase the Athletic Department is ready to take student seats and sell them to season ticket holders – probably never to get them back. The Athletic Department warned it might even be forced to cut programs.

What does logic and instinct say?

It seems only logical that students should have to pay some fair percentage of a normal ticket; the Athletic Department wants 50% to be that fair percentage. It seems only logical that students would be willing to flip the bill if it meant keeping the student seating capacity at the same level.

It seems only logical if an athletic department has exhausted all of its other means of fundraising (BASF, individual donors, season ticket holders) that it should look to the students who pay six dollars less, per year, for tickets than University of Oregon and nearly $247.21 less than University of Maryland (who the Beavers just defeated in the Emerald Bowl).

It seems only logical that an athletic department that only receives about eight-percent (which is about 10% lower than the rest of the country, on average) of it’s funding from the university should look to the students to some extra cash.

But, things are not always as they seem. That’s why Piro, Wagner and the Athletic Department staff gave the presentation. And for the first few minutes ASOSU seemed to care. Then they seemed to lose interest. They looked at the athletes and their presentation like a foreign language. One member spent most of the presentation whispering to another member and trying to hold back laughter. It was embarrassing. Then the “decision” seemed to be more watered down than a soda at the movie theater.

Apparently, as one ASOSU member said it, “It’s hard to choke down an $18 increase.”

That’s right, this is all about 18 measly dollars. Just 18 singles per term. That’s a little more than six bones a month. Less than $1.80 per week.

That’s a large pepperoni a month at Little Caesars or a few beers at Clods. If it’s “hard to choke down” six dollars a month, ASOSU member, you might want to take a closer look at your finances. As someone who works six jobs just to pay for school and survive, I can handle six more dollars a month.

I wouldn’t think that a group of people, in charge, could be so worried about $18. Kind of anti-climactic, isn’t it? Isn’t the role of the student government to govern students? Call me crazy but this should have been a no-brainer. Up the student fees, keep the seats, keep the programs, make the money, sleep better at night knowing you made a difference.

Instead, the decision goes to a public hearing where people will drive their cars at three dollars a gallon, while drinking their five dollar Starbucks and eating their two dollar bagel to discuss if they can “choke down an $18 dollar per term increase.”

Give me a break.