A close friend stopped by our house tonight, chatting about usual stuff, when he silently pulled a small rectangular paper out of his jacket and laid it on the table. It was a Super Bowl ticket.
I said, "No you did-un't!"
He said, "Well, kind of."
Here's the story: He is a Colts season ticket holder, a loyal fan since the Colts came to Indy, what, 20 years ago? No average, fairweather fan, but a fan highlighted in our local newspaper for not having missed a Colts game in years. Apparently, there are about 45,000 season ticket holders, and 800 of those are chosen by lottery to receive Super Bowl tickets. He went to Indy to pick up two yesterday. He paid $600.00 for each ticket.
Immediately upon returning home, he received a very lucrative offer for those tickets.
Can you feel his dilemma?--A lifelong NFL fan, a little boy who played NFL games on one of those electronic football games that vibrated to move the tiny players like whirling dervishes in bizarre patterns and mostly knocked them over but who cared because it was football, a Colts devotee who always believed in and supported them when others trashed and deserted them, and now, in a dream-come-true moment, he is headed to balmly Miami on February 4th, to see the Colts trample the Bears. He has the tickets in hand. In. His. Hand.
What would you do? Would the size of the offer matter to you? Have you figured the cost of doubled and tripled air fare, hotels, food, etc? Would the threat of terrorism even enter your mind? Would the level of desperation of the buyer move you? Would you hold the tickets until next week, hoping to get even more money?
Well? What would you do?
He sold the tickets. Guess how much profit he made. $4800.00. He says that if he had held them until next week, he probably would have made $6000.00.
Disappointed? Yes. Sad? Yes. And yet he felt the combined cost of all the variables mentioned above would make this 3 1/2 hour extravaganza simply too expensive. He yielded to common sense, although it was not exactly a happy choice, as reasonable choices are often wont to be.
He copied and laminated the tickets, which is what he brought with him to show us. It was a weird moment as we stared down at those pieces of paper, worth so much money and maybe the chance of a lifetime. I wonder what he'll be thinking when he watches the game on TV. I hope he feels like he made the right decision. What do you think?