5 Reasons Why Attending Sporting Events In NYC Is The Worst Idea
Attending live sporting events in New York City is maybe the worst idea on the planet.
I know that deep down you, dear reader, know this, but your good buddy Ryan is here to help remind you of all the reasons why going to a bar to watch the game is a better idea. (Hey, Robin Williams' character in Good Will Hunting understood.)
Let's get to the madness.
The average ticket price for a game at Yankee Stadium in 2014 cost $139.41. A Bud Light beer cost $8. The average hot dog was $6. I’m not sure about you, but $154.41 is nothing to sneeze at for me. And you’re not buying just one beer, either; you’re buying three. Total cost: $179.41. Or a round-trip train to Boston for the weekend.
Oh, but baseball’s boring, right!? (Wrong, but fine.) Let’s move on to football. The average ticket price to a Giants football game this year? $366.34. Food and drink at MetLife are about the same as baseball. Call it $396.34. Or the same price as a new iPhone 6*.
Cost of entrance to Spring Lounge in Soho: $0. Cost of one PBR beer: $5. Cost of a bag of UTZ chips: $1. Let’s say over the course of a Monday Night Football game you have five beers and three bags of chips (you pig). Total cost: $28 plus tip. Call it $35, since I trust you’re a generous tipper. There, you just spent $35 over the course of four hours, you’re perfectly inebriated, and you’re not receiving overdraft charge text messages from your bank on that iPhone 6 you're now able to afford.
*Two-year contract required, plus activation fees. See your local carrier for details.
Winner: The Bar.
[Ed's note: story has been changed to reflect that PBR at Soho Lounge is $5, not $4.]
Let’s say you’re going to Citi Field for a Mets-Rockies game on a Tuesday evening. Let’s be reasonable and say you’re coming from Madison Square Park. According to Google Maps, travel time is going to be 43 minutes via the N and 7-trains. Okay, 43 minutes, not bad. Well, consider you’re probably going to wait at least five minutes, that’s now 48. Consider walking from the train station at Citi Field to the stadium, that’s 10 minutes, given there’s no line to get in the game (Rockies game, remember?).
Returning home is probably a longer trip since you live on 79th and 1st Avenue, along with everyone else on a first-year salary, so all things considered you’ve traveled AT LEAST two hours to watch other people run around on grass.
Time spent commuting is 1 hour, each way. (Plus $2.50 subway ride, twice.)
P.S. Never forget this.
Guess what? You're already there! Getting home: your normal commute. Maybe 30 minutes? Thirty-five minutes total. Number of strangers picking their skin and eating it: probably zero. Number of times people were not standing clear of the closing doors and selfishly stuck their hands in, stopping the doors, delaying everyone: zero.
Time spent commuting: N/A, you were already gonna commute home anyways.
Winner: The Bar.
Nothing beats watching the big game in real time! Look at all the little guys down there! Hang on let me check my phone, OH WAIT YOU JUST MISSED THE GAME WINNING PLAY. If you're lucky the Jumbotron will tip its replay hat to the home team, but that's a best case scenario. You’re a fan of the other team? Nothing. Close play that could potentially embarrass the umpires? Fat chance you’ll see that slowed down on screen. MLB hates you and is protecting its image at every moment—never forget that. Better check Twitter to see if anyone’s uploaded the video.
Oh, and the NFL? The NFL hates you even more, and there is no way you’re going to get more than one or two looks at replay on whether Victor Cruz got both feet in bounds (he didn’t).
This is getting too easy. HDTV plus the 9,345 potential camera angles at each game divided by the amount of blades of grass you can count between Cruz’s cleat and the ground equals a winning f*cking combination. Miss it the first time around? Eight instant replays coming your way, pal. Missed all eight? Who cares, your local bar's got TiVo.
Another thing: watch a game this weekend. Tweet me if you witness one game in which not every single play had a dedicated replay. You won't be tweeting me, because every play is live dissected by BIG SMART MEN in the booth, and because there are only 11 minutes (eleven! Eleven f****** minutes in three hours!) of actual football played in a three-hour game, the television producers need something to fill the time.
Winner: The Bar, if only because you don't have to watch the nonsense that goes on during commercials.
Christ. Look at that avalanche of horror. Sporting events are not a hospitable environment. They are a war-zone. They will always be a war-zone. People’s lives are often threatened. Here's a little shopping list of the other land-mines waiting for you in the nosebleeds (or anywhere in the stadium for that matter).
1. Sitting in a row? Great, you can’t talk to anyone other than who’s right next to you.
2. Hoping to meet cute girls/boys at the game? Well, you have about a three-in-80,000 chance of it working out. This is not a Jennifer Aniston movie.
3. Some little league world series benchwarmer will ruin the game while he argues every ball and strike.
4. Getting up to get a beer? Oh, EXCUSE ME 17 STRANGERS, PLEASE MOVE YOUR LEGS. Sure, you could order from the vendor, but he needs to see your ID, and you’re going to have to have those 17 people fondle your ID and cash, and they’re going to hate you.
5. Have to pee? So do 20,000 other people. Prepare to hold it, as the Rangers-Flyers second period starts and you miss the best goal of the whole game.
None of the above is true. If the crowd at the bar sucks, well, guess what, there’s another one across the street. No cute girls in your area? Walk 10 feet, and your luck will probably change. You never have to wait to pee. I cannot stress this last point enough.
Winner: I’m getting sick of repeating myself.
You ever sat in left field at Yankee Stadium on a July night when there’s no breeze? Have you ever sat in a sauna dressed like an Eskimo? And those are just the evenings. Have you been in the upper deck at a Mets game for an afternoon day game? Better book a skin-cancer screening the next day; there's nowhere to hide from the sun unless you go under the bleachers to...ready for it...a stadium bar! And watch the game on TV! With replay!
December at MetLife? You have got to be kidding me. Don’t tell me you’re happy when halftime’s just starting, you can’t feel your ankles, the hot chocolate is barely warm (plus, $20) and you have three more hours until you’re anywhere indoors. It’s bulls*it, and it’s not fun. Stop telling yourself it’s fun. Go inside.
About 68 degrees. Kinda nice, huh?
Winner: You guessed it.
You’re offering me six box-seats? Like, a suite, with free food? And a bathroom? To a 7 p.m. Yankees playoff game? On...oh, October 10th? And we’re traveling to the game by helicopter?
Okay, fine I’m in. Until then, I tip my cap and wish you good luck. I'll be at the end of the bar, having a drink ($4) with my future wife.
P.S. I take absolutely everything back when it comes to in-person hockey. Always attend a hockey game. I will put up with everything. NBA? Eh, if LeBron's in town.