State Rep. David Wolkins isn’t shy about what he likes: golf, basketball and football.

As ranking Republican member and former chairman of the Indiana House Environmental Affairs Committee, he’s in a position to indulge his interests thanks to the very companies he’s supposed to help regulate.

In a single year, Wolkins, a Republican from Winona Lake, accepted more than $3,200 in tickets and lodging at major sports events from Duke Energy, Vectren Corp., the Indiana Energy Association and the Indiana Statewide Association of Rural Electric Cos.

Wolkins is hardly alone. Lobbyists routinely channel handouts to members of key legislative committees. Even relative newcomers to the Statehouse, who otherwise normally take a back seat to higher-profile lawmakers, can attract lobbyists’ attention if they’re assigned to the right committees.

Second-term state Rep. Kreg Battles, D-Vincennes, for example, received more than $1,000 in meals and tickets to sports events from companies in the energy and telecommunications sectors. Not by coincidence, Battles is a member of the House Commerce, Energy, Technology and Utilities Committee.

While corporations and high-priced lobbyists buy access to legislators, ordinary Hoosiers and grassroots organizations can be shut out.

“We have observed that with some legislators there doesn’t seem to be impartiality in regard to access,’’ Jesse Kharbanda, executive director of the Hoosier Environmental Council, said.

Kharbanda contends that even if the environmental council had the money to buy time with lawmakers, he would consider it “unprincipled’’ to do so. “We would rather win our arguments on their merits,’’ he said.

That may sound noble, but given Indiana’s extraordinarily lax lobbying laws, it’s a formula for failure in the Statehouse.

For the price of dinner at Indianapolis’ St. Elmo Steak House or a suite at Lucas Oil Stadium to watch the Indianapolis Colts, lobbyists can buy hours of face time to pitch their clients’ interests to lawmakers.

Under state law, legislators may accept gifts of unlimited value from lobbyists. They even can interview for jobs with lobbying firms while still serving in elected office.

To be clear, however, no one has shown evidence of outright bribery.

“It’s not about quid pro quo,’’ state Sen. Mike Delph, R-Carmel, said. “It’s about the politics of subtlety.’’

Or, as Julia Vaughn, public policy director for Common Cause Indiana, puts it: “Is it the first steak dinner or the 12th steak dinner that influences a vote?”

In the General Assembly, there are insiders and there are outsiders. Lobbyists can buy their places on the inside by building relationships with the right lawmakers, and those relationships are often forged over dinner and drinks or the charged atmosphere of an NFL game.

A friendly lawmaker may agree to help a lobbyist’s client by sponsoring a bill. Or by blocking unfavorable legislation in committee. Or by inserting desired language in an amendment while the legislation is in committee or on the House or Senate floor.

In the tough, occasionally tense atmosphere of the Statehouse, it’s of immeasurable value for lobbyists and their clients to have allies on the inside, where one phrase in a bill can mean millions of dollars won or lost.

Left on the outside are residents of a state where unemployment is nearly 10 percent, personal bankruptcy and home foreclosure rates are among the nation’s highest, and air and water quality remain among the worst in the United States.

Perhaps the most damaging aspect of the cozy relationships between legislators and lobbyists is that some lawmakers don’t realize, or at least won’t admit, that they are being played. The inability to recognize the reality of why lobbyists want their attention means that lawmakers can let their guard down, believing it’s about friendship.

State Sen. Greg Taylor, D-Indianapolis, for instance, was genuinely amazed to learn that he had accepted 29 meals – worth more than $700 – in one year from the same lobbyist employed by Baker & Daniels, one of the state’s largest lobbying outfits. In Taylor’s mind, he and the lobbyist are old friends, who were simply catching up on each other’s lives.

Many legislators insist they aren’t influenced by tickets to Colts games, or out-of-state trips, or rounds of golf paid for and played with lobbyists. That raises a question, however. If lobbyists and their clients aren’t getting satisfactory returns on their investments, then why do they continue to pour more money — more than $25.8 million in the most recent annual reporting period— into influencing votes?

It’s time for Hoosiers to demand that their elected leaders set common-sense limits on lobbyists’ ability to buy access to power.