IT'S SUMMERTIME in Pittsburgh. You can tell because the fish are jumping and the cotton is high.

At least they are this summer.

A capacity crowd waded openmouthed into the lure of bells and whistles at Pittsburgh's shiny, new River Casino on Sunday, eager to do its part to prop up the state's faltering economy.

They won't drop enough coins to offset Pennsylvania's cavernous $3 billion budget gap this year. But they could keep the lights on in Harrisburg.

At least, they could this year.

But the future of gaming in Pennsylvania is not nearly so bright as the sun-drenched ceremony that marked the casino's opening. In fact, a sharp downturn in the state's casino fortunes is so easy to handicap that you couldn't find a bookie to take that action.

Because, even before the first reels roll in Philadelphia, gaming revenues are starting to drop almost as fast as the number of casinos rises. Forty states have approved gaming, up 30 percent in 10 years.

They can't spin the reels fast enough to keep pace with their raised expectations. In Atlantic City, it has been low tide ever since Pennsylvania and Delaware got into the game. Six seashore casinos lost money last year. Next year will be worse as more and more casinos compete for a dwindling take.

Neil Bluhm, a billionaire Chicago developer, bought in on the Pittsburgh casino last year, when Don Barden, the previous owner, threw snake eyes. He was forced to sell a majority to Bluhm, who added this thriving slot palace to a chain of gaming houses he owns in the U.S. and Canada.

He's our leading citizen right now. The state's take from River Casino could exceed $200 million a year if estimates of more than $400 million in annual revenues hold true. Pittsburgh and the rest of Allegheny County could reap $30 million in annual tax revenues.

Throw in the money generated at the Meadows near Pittsburgh, and the city could offer its citizens as much as $25 million in tax relief.

The state, which takes $55 cents from every dollar in gaming revenue, could be banking $1 billion a year in tax revenues when all 14 slots sites are open.

Or maybe not.

Pennsylvania is rolling sevens right now because its racinos and slot palaces are new and more convenient for local gamblers than is Atlantic City. But they may have to raise the ante to keep the game going.

A bill that is making its way through the legislative process in Harrisburg would license up to 88,000 video-poker machines to benefit local taverns and nonprofit clubs.

State Rep. Bill DeWeese has promised to introduce a bill to allow table games in the state, in part as a sop to racino operators who paid millions to the state, which seems poised to approve video poker.

We can't do one without the other. Guys like Bluhm who kicked in millions for their licenses won't hear of it. You wouldn't either.

Don't expect neighboring states to stand pat. Pennsylvania's gaming-tax revenues are up 25 percent over last year. But revenues in New Jersey, New York and Delaware have all dropped since last year.

The trend is inescapable. Industry analysts say that most of the losses are just a product of the economic downturn. But that's this year's lament.

The real skunk at this garden party is the glut of gaming options available. Even the highest of high rollers has a limit.

Slots is not a high-rollers game. The action here is from retirees and housewives and day- trippers looking to hit the big one. It's a short drop to the bottoms of their pockets.

They can broadcast video poker into your living room in high def and set up table games until the green felt stretches from coast to coast. But we have already hit a point of diminishing returns.

Soon, we won't be able to reel in enough fish or pick enough cotton to make the living easy.

Send e-mail to smithel@phillynews.com or call 215-854-2512. For recent columns: http://go.philly.com/smith.