PSA: How Not to Raise Money

Oakland is home to the con. Don't get me wrong: we don't have an exclusive license on it; we just have more than our fair share, if you will. Case in point: raising money for youth sports. It works like this: some young dude, somewhere between 12 and 20, stands on the street or in front of a supermarket or at a gas station with a crumpled up poster or a much-copied flyer and hits you up for money for a local youth sports league (usually basketball here in Oaktown). Said dude lays down a bored line about raising money for his youth sports league, throws in the name of a local park or recreation center or even, if he's feeling ballsy or stupidly lazy, the name of a local high school, and every once in a while, someone stops, out of guilt or charity or what have you, and gives the dude a dollar or five; very rarely, someone actually reads the flyer or writes out a check, but for the most part, it's cash in hand. Dude makes a half-dozen scores in a day, this can add up to real money.

Of course, there's no such youth sports league. I happen to know there's no such youth sports league because I used to work for the City of Oakland's Office of Parks and Recreation, and when these dudes would hit me up for money in the name of teams at rec centers, I would immediately call the director of said center on my cell and ask him if the story was legitimate. And it never was. As my good friend Horace at Rainbow once told me, "That cat is full of it." I would then turn to the dude with the paper and tell him that he'd best be careful because the cops actually enjoy busting young dudes laying out scams, "not that I'm saying you're scamming a-ight? Just letting you know," and the dudes would scamper. So it goes.

And so, today, when I was walking into the Longs Drugs on Pleasant Valley and Broadway, I was delighted to see the actual Oakland Tech boosters selling raffle tickets for their team. I knew they were legit because 1) the players were actually wearing their uniforms, 2) the boosters actually had raffle tickets to sell, and 3) there was a cadre of about a half dozen mothers of players sitting at a folding table keeping the whole thing running. As I went in, two young dudes asked me, in those disaffected teen voices common to young men working with their mothers standing nearby, if I wanted to buy a raffle ticket. I thought about it, and I decided, sure, why not, only not on the way in. "Thanks," I said, "maybe I'll buy one on the way out." And I walked into the store.

As I was walking in, I heard an older woman say, in a not particularly friendly voice, "You'd better buy one on the way out!"

I stopped in my tracks, turned around, walked back outside, and identified the speaker, an older woman I've never seen before. "Or else what?" I said, looking right at her, and then I laughed at the sheer ridiculous look on her face as she sputtered, and I went back in and shopped. And when I was done shopping, I went out another door (not out of any desire to avoid conflict but simply because it was closer to the other shopping I needed to do), and I did not buy a raffle ticket.

Congratulations, lady: you blew your team's chance of getting my money and support. You have a legitimate cause, and you alienated me from it. Way to go.