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Ohio casino proposals are usually approved by local voters, defeated statewide.

There are game-changing fumbles.

And then there are history-changing fumbles.

The biggest fumble in Ohio history wasn't the one committed by Browns running back Ernest Byner in January of 1988. That fumble broke a city's heart, but the damage was ephemeral. Football is a game.

A far more significant fumble occurred on November 6th, 1990, roughly 34 months after Byner put the ball on the ground in Denver. That was the day that Ohio voters overwhelmingly rejected a pilot casino program for the city of Lorain.

That ballot fumble has had lasting consequences. That vote may represent the most short-sighted, ill-informed outcome in the history of Ohio ballot initiatives. A powerful and unholy alliance of race tracks and churches conspired to defeat an idea whose time had come.

Had the Lorain casino been given a chance, it could have helped alter Ohio's economic future. Had that idea, the brainchild of Lorain developer and auto dealer Alan Spitzer, succeeded, Ohio would have been the third state in the union to act on the economic potential of casinos. We would have quickly mushroomed into a tourism and gaming industry leader by now.

Instead, tomorrow, we will hear from Gov. Ted Strickland just how bad Ohio's fortunes have become. In his State of the State address, he will stress how we will need more severe belt-tightening -- and innovation -- to fill an expected $7 billion hole in the next two-year state budget.

What Strickland is unlikely to mention, however, is that he has been sniffing around the casino crowd. He's been talking to the gambling folks because he is now willing to admit that they pay tithes and create jobs.

He's talking to them because filthy lucre is taxable.

That's wise.

At this point, Strickland and the legislature should heartily embrace any legal industry that creates good paying jobs and bolsters tourism.

Waiting until now makes it harder to bring gambling to the state. Vested gambling interests surrounding Ohio don't want gaming here, unless it's dictated on their terms.

The parent company of an Indiana casino spent nearly $36 million last year to defeat a gambling initiative that appeared on the Ohio ballot. The company didn't want to lose Ohio or Indiana gamblers. It was a business decision.

But this is not the time to cry over forfeited casino chips or to allow other states to continue dictating our gaming future.

"I guess I understand where they're coming from," said Spitzer, who refuses to question the motives of Strickland and other politicians now giving gambling another look.

"This is the real world, and necessity is the mother of invention."

"We will probably never be able to do some things on the scale that we might have been able to, given that the competition is now so much greater. But still, if nothing else, it makes sense to keep Ohio money in Ohio."

We fumbled badly in 1990, and the casino world roared past us.

It's time that Ohio's politicians ignore the naysayers and get us in the game.