The University of New Mexico’s sports program has launched the “Together for Tomorrow” campaign, with the goal of ensuring that “student-athletes have comprehensive support and stability throughout their years as a Lobo and after graduation.”

Translation: Please give us money.

In the fiscal year that concluded on June 30th, the athletics department “lost $3.6 million,” and in the current fiscal year, it’s “projecting a nearly $5 million shortfall.” And donations from the public are now welcome. One option not on the solution list: staff cuts. For the time being, “layoffs are not on the table,” according to UNM’s athletic director.

Eddie Nuñez sure knows how government operates in New Mexico. So does Michelle Lujan Grisham, who earlier this week whined that Washington “has not done enough to alleviate the impact of the ongoing pandemic,” and demanded more “federal aid to states for COVID-19 recovery.” Her message drew a sharp, and well-deserved, rebuke from the Piñon Post’s John Block.

Asking fedpols to ignore Lujan Grisham’s plea that folks in Boise, Boston, and Baton Rouge bail her state out, given her commitment “to serve her special interests and political connections while ignoring … small businesses and working families,” Block noted that “the Governor has repeatedly weaponized her office to play politics with this deadly pandemic, militarize her Attorney General as her attack dog to go after local leaders, and use her platform to belittle our citizens with personal attacks.”

But potential cash for coronavirus costs doesn’t add up to much, compared to the flood of largesse that flows from the Potomac River to the Rio Grande every ten years. When it comes to federal aid as a share of general revenue, New Mexico stands very close to the top. Lujan Grisham and her fellow political predators want to keep it there.

On Thursday, the entire congressional delegation, plus New Mexico’s chief executive, gathered for a teleconference “to sound an alarm” that a census “undercount” might mean fewer D.C. dollars during the next decade. After all, according to U.S. Rep. Deb Haaland (DUI-Albuquerque), some kids must sit “outside of a closed library using its internet service because they don’t have any at home and can’t access it anywhere else,” and “[c]ommunication in 2020 is absolutely a human right.” (Seriously. She said that.)

Tough calls. Hard choices. Prioritization. Tradeoffs. Sacrifices.

For nine decades, New Mexico’s politicians and bureaucrats have avoided making the kind of decisions that effective leaders confront, courageously, every day. And that’s why public policy in the Land of Enchantment now amounts to little more than begging.