Why Do Season Tickets Suck?
Loyal to Your Team? Fine, But Don't Be Dumb!
I was totally planning on making this week’s JTS entry about auditioning to be a host of the Monster Truck Circuit, Monster Jam in Tampa this past weekend. However, after going through the social media policy, I’m not sure what I can and cannot discuss. And so, I’ll be talking about season tickets today. The Monster Jam people did post this, however:
So yeah, season tickets. I honestly do get the appeal of the whole thing. You love a team, you go to a bunch of games, and you have a little extra money in your coffers than when you were a kid. So you say to yourself, “Why not?”. Even though it was my dream to be a season ticket holder for the New York Mets, I had the opportunity to do so for the (relatively cheaper) Los Angeles Galaxy soccer team. But each time I’ve plunked down the gold coins to watch some sports in bulk, I realize I’ve made a grave mistake. And truthfully, I’m not the only one:
There are a million and one reasons why season ticket memberships are a terrible business decision. And I’m not even talking about the fact the “investment” preys on the very emotional connection you have for the team in question. Those of you who’ve taken a business class will tell you emotions and business don’t mix. And even if you’ve never taken a class, we all had that friend who “felt lucky” at a casino before they gambled away the rent. the problems are 4 fold:
They are an expensive buy-in.
The price per ticket isn’t necessarily a “deal” and is typically more expensive than the resale market
Lack of season ticket “benefits”
Unused tickets can be hard to get rid of.
That last one is a doozy because in the case of some teams out there, if they catch a season ticket holder reselling too many times in the season, they could threaten revocation of their membership. (start at the 0:07 mark)
So you (theoretically) spent thousands on tickets, and you don’t have the rights to do what you want with them. That would be like if my grocery store locked the doors on me because I let too many bags of salad wither away in the back of the fridge. It’s NOT MY FAULT I’M BUSY!
That third point above is also valid. I was a “premium” season ticket holder of the LA Galaxy in 2024. And yes, that got me a padded seat and a parking pass included, it really felt like a “that’s it” when I crunched the numbers. There were even more premium parts of the park I didn’t have access to. I got a “discount” off of food, but so many vendors didn’t understand how to use the QR code that gave the discount. There was access to a club, but you had to give way to anyone who bought the $55 buffet package, and so on. And yes, every team says things like “exclusive access to special events,” but it’s not like Beyoncé is going to do a couple of songs in your front yard because you dropped some scratch on soccer.
The thing is, sports are realizing it’s not individual fans that are important to their bottom line. Sure, you fill out the stadium and it looks good on camera, but it’s all about the group sales. I’m talking corporate clients, schools, and international sports tourism groups. Them folks are the real ticket. That, coupled with people fire-selling their tickets when they can’t make a game, and the whole experience of being in an “exclusive club,” can be lame. My costs at the Galaxy in 2024 worked out to being like $150per match. More often than not, I sat next to people who scored the same location for a third of that price.
Like I said, buying a membership is an emotional purchase; don’t let me the one to ruin your fun. (Or as the kids say “yuck your yum”…ugh). If you want to support a semi-pro team, youth or women’s teams, or a squad with a smaller profile, then by all means. We all need a little more altruism in our lives.
The major franchises are on their own, though. They’ll be fine.