Gov. Ed Rendell's decision to dispatch members of his cabinet across the state to tout the advantages of Act 72 in providing tax relief is a public relations offensive that conjures up military scenarios. But given the generally unfavorable reception Act 72 has received from school districts and taxpayers, the historical comparisons are more likely to be Custer's Last Stand rather than some triumphant offensive.

Dennis Yablonsky, secretary of the state Department of Community and Economic Development, appeared at a meeting of the Butler County Commissioners on Monday. While respectful, most of those attending the meeting expressed misgivings about Act 72, rather than enthusiasm. No doubt he's had better days and more receptive audiences.

Rendel has promised Pennsylvanians property tax relief, but Act 72's linkage of slot-machine gambling revenues to relatively modest tax relief has clearly not been embraced in the commonwealth. The vague promise of minimal tax relief has left most homeowners unimpressed.

In addition, the strings attached to Act 72 - namely a mandatory increase in the earned income tax and mandatory voter approval for tax increases over the rate of inflation - has most school districts planning to "opt out" of Act 72.

Yablonsky said Rendell viewed this week's Butler County meeting as a "communication mission" to help get the word out on Act 72. It is a little late for that - the word is already out, and it's not good.

Those who know the most about Act 72, presumably the 3,500 or so members of the state's 501 school boards, have already expressed serious misgivings about the law. With only a handful of school districts planning to opt in by the May 30 deadline, the message is clear: Act 72 is flawed and insufficient to represent real property tax reform.

It is being seen by many critics as merely a slight shifting of the tax burden, while imposing unwanted revenue-raising limitations on school districts. Many people are uncomfortable with tying education funding to slot-machine gambling revenues that will fluctuate from year to year and would be vulnerable to both economic recession and competitive moves by neighboring states. Putting these funding sources beyond their control, school boards' budgeting headaches would only increase.

While debate continues over the pros and cons of Act 72, some education advocates in the state suggest the fundamental problem is that state support for education has slipped to about 33 percent of local budgets, down from about 50 percent in 1975.

Act 72 is looking more and more like a distraction from true education-funding reform - and like an afterthought to help sell the governor's slots plan.

So far, the clearest winners in the Act 72 scenario appear to be gambling interests, real estate speculators and those connected to the horse racing industry. Taxpayers and school districts rank very near the bottom of the list of those benefiting from the money lost by people dropping coins into slot machines.

Yablonsky and Rendell have a tough job selling Act 72. The governor and the legislature should already be working on a backup plan - or writing an obituary for the law - because Act 72 is likely to join the ill-fated Homestead Exemption Act, which also was billed as school funding reform.

It appears that the more taxpayers and school districts learn about Act 72, the less they like it. So clearly, Yablonsky and other Act 72 cheerleaders have a difficult public relations job. For that, they can blame Rendell and state lawmakers who cobbled together the dubious law and called it property-tax reform.