Editor's note: This story was published in the Lexington Herald-Leader on Dec. 11, 2005.
David Lindeman called out "Flash," the pull-tab game he was selling for $1 a play as he walked under the harsh florescent lights of Jackpot Bingo. The hall off Winchester Road was quiet despite the steady patter of the bingo caller, the voices of parents selling pull-tabs and the occasional yelp from one of the 100 players, signaling bingo.
Two Sunday nights a month, Lindeman, a civil engineer, sells pull-tabs to raise money for Tates Creek High School baseball and softball teams."It gets downright boring sometimes," said Lindeman, whose two children play on the teams. "You walk around in circles and say the same thing, over and over again."
Seven days a week, sometimes until 3 a.m., parents and students run bingo games to pay for sports and band programs in the Fayette County public schools. The school district pays for head coaches and band directors, but almost every other expense has to be paid for by parents or through fund-raising.
Of all the fund-raisers, bingo brings in the most money -- a total of $6.8 million in the last five years. But bingo's earnings are decreasing.
Few parents like working bingo, but they say the teams need the money, even those who oppose the lottery or dislike the smoke that coats the air inside the halls.
"I've never smoked and I hate the environment there," said Ed Workman, president of the Tates Creek baseball booster club.
Some groups allow parents to buy their way out of working bingo, but Tates Creek baseball doesn't. Too many people would choose that option, and there wouldn't be enough volunteers to run the game, Workman said.
"It's either this or come up with a whole bunch of money for the kids," said Molly Kimbrell, parent of a Tates Creek baseball player. "It's expensive enough, just keeping them in cleats."
During intermission at Bluegrass Bingo one Tuesday night, the players lined up at the table where Michael Boggs had been selling King of the Mountain, a popular pull-tab game.
Pull-tabs work like a scratch-off lottery ticket, only with tabs. They offer instant winnings, a shot at a grand prize of up to $599 or, if it's a progressive game, $2,400.
Bingo brings players into the halls, but pull-tabs are where the money is, said Leah Cooper, an assistant director in the Office of Charitable Gaming.
On an average Tuesday night at Bluegrass Bingo, the Lafayette band boosters sell 9,000 to 10,000 pull-tabs at $1 each to around 80 players.
Last year, the Lafayette band sold $419,000 just in pull-tabs, according to the gaming office. Of that, $307,000 went back to players as winnings. The group also had to pay the cost of the games, rent at Bluegrass and other expenses. Between bingo, pull-tabs and a raffle, the band earned $60,000.
At Bluegrass, the players bought tickets from Boggs, who works for Alltel, in $5, $10 and $20 increments. They exchanged their instant winnings for combinations of cash and more pull-tabs, flipping open the tickets and turning in the winners as quickly as Boggs could count the money. One woman stashed a pull-tab in her bra.
"Isn't it amazing," said Boggs as the line of players briefly disappeared. "... It's the same people every night."
The players are superstitious. They bring good luck charms, such as carved wooden elephants and miniature trolls. They'll decide that certain pull-tab sellers are lucky and refuse to buy from anyone else.
When Ann Tejeda paid for a computerized bingo game, she asked for a computer by its number, 25. She'd won on that machine before, she explained later.
Tejeda, 75, plays bingo every chance she gets, even though she lives on a fixed income. Enough players survive on Social Security, retirement and disability to make the first of the month, when the checks arrive, the most profitable week for booster clubs.
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