There was a time in the news game — way back in the day — when using Freedom of Information laws to get information from a local City Hall was considered the sign of a wimp.

Maybe even a lazy wimp.

If a reporter, he or she, couldn't figure out how to get the information — through schmoozing, cajoling or otherwise helping a politician see the light — that not only was it his obligation to let the people of his city know what he was doing on their time, on their dollars, while driving their car, that it might also be in his best interest in the long run, he or she was considered somewhat short in the testosterone department.

But it's all different now. A culture change crept in — in Bridgeport, it dates back to 1993, when casino owner Steve Wynnn came to town — under which elected officials think of themselves as big business guys, deciding big things and, you know, you people wouldn't really understand what's going on with some of these big things we do, so we'll let you know when we're done.

This is because the election system has gotten way, way out of control.

Politicians need money to run for office, so they hang around and beg rich people to give them money. After a politician gets elected, guess what? The rich guys who put up the money want something back.

Some politicians hobnob so long with rich, slick guys, they begin to think that they, too, are slick and that they ought to be rich, what with all that back-breaking

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work they do making decisions on big things.

That's when they start playing things close to the vest.

Actually, this is a very good thing for newspapers, because here's what happens: the closer things get to the vest, the better the stories will be when someone, an enterprising reporter or, say, a law enforcement officer, gets between the vest and the documents.

So politicians start treating City Hall like it was their business.

Just the other day, Bridgeport Mayor Bill Finch released the names of people he's going to try to lay off. He's proposing to correct the accumulated years of laissez-faire fiscal management at Bridgeport City Hall, by the way, by eviscerating the libraries and the health department.

Very cool.

Taking a hard look at the city Education Department, where assistant principals occasionally trip over each other, would probably be a bit more difficult than putting the heavy timber to nurses and librarians.

Back to Steve Wynn for a moment. I was working as a reporter in 1991 when 32-year-old Joseph P. Ganim was elected mayor of Bridgeport.

He was a hard-working guy. He was inquisitive about a lot of things. The day that he got engaged to be married, we sat in his office and he asked me — the old sage of 42, father of four — about matrimony and parenthood. He was excited about getting engaged.

He also talked animatedly in those days about development of Bridgeport harbor as the key to the city's future.

Then Steve Wynn came along and proposed a casino. Ganim, and a lot of other people, were blinded by the glare of the neon. Donald Trump got nervous about Steve Wynn coming to Bridgeport and hired Lennie Grimaldi to be his eyes and ears in the city and the rest, well

Let's just say I never heard Ganim mention the harbor again.

He went from Mayor Ganim to Joe Ganim, president and CEO of Ganim Inc.

Greg Conte, now a lawyer in the City Attorney's Office but then working in Ganim's office, went so far as to threaten in 2001 to arrest MariAn Gail Brown, a Connecticut Post reporter, who was looking into the former mayor's spending on taxpayer-issued credit cards.

One of the continuing tasks of the Bridgeport City Attorney's Office seems to be to devise rationales for why no information is public.

Believe it or not, when the Post asked Mayor Finch for the names of the people to be laid off, the City Attorney's Office replied, in part, in a letter boldly stamped "Hand Delivered" to reporter Bill Cummings: "The documents you seek are not in the Office of the Mayor nor does he have access to these documents without the prior approval of the Office of the City Attorney." The sentence was underlined to emphasize either its importance or its absurdity. This, dear reader, is what passes for legal advice in Bridgeport. Surprised?The letter was dated April 22. Had it been written 21 days earlier, it might have passed as some kind of sophomoric April Fool's joke.

City Attorney Mark T. Anastasi later backed away from that statement, which was written by one of his assistants. He conceded the mayor is actually the person who is in charge.

I'll bet Bill Finch was relieved to hear that.

Two shoutouts: Marie Scopa, of Fairfield. You're a peach for finding my adventuresome dog Otis and returning him. Keep your eyes open. After such kind treatment, he may seek you out.

Beth Norton: Sorry. Had it not been for a few key errors on my part, our dismantling of Ed Pagano and Dave "Zamboni" Schneider the other morning would have been completed easily within the 90 minutes allotted. As it was, 6-2, 5-4, ret. was gratifying. I've always felt that if I could only get a former Top 20 in the world player as a partner, I could beat some people. Michael J. Daly is managing editor of the Connecticut Post. You can reach him at 203-330-6394 or by e-mail at mdaly@ctpost.com.