AMPA - Jimmy from Pittsburgh was distraught. He couldn't believe the Super Bowl had come to this.
''This [expletive],'' bellowed Jimmy, not caring that a hundred or so people were within earshot. ''The damn phones won't work. How're we supposed to be doing business. I've been bustin' my hump for a week, and these [expletive] phones are driving me crazy.''
It was Saturday afternoon, 30 hours before kickoff for Super Bowl XXXV at Raymond James Stadium.
Jimmy was part of the Scalper Bowl, which comes to this event, and other big ones in sports like it, each year.
He is part of a team. He has three associates and they communicate by cellphone.
But in the hotel that served as the media center for the game, cellphones don't work. There were too many of them in the area because his opposition was all around him.
Hustlers. They buy and sell Super Bowl tickets in a multimillion-dollar business that has an annual 10-day cycle.
Guys like Jimmy were looking for $2,200 for a ticket that had a face value of $325 when it was sold by the NFL. Jimmy paid ''around a grand'' for the ticket and wanted to double his score. The $325 seat was not in a good location, it was not between the 20-yard lines.
Between the 20s is where the most action is. Those are the tickets that start with a face value of $400. On Saturday afternoon, for a $400 ticket the minimum price was $4,000. For a seat on the 50-yard line, at club level, the scalpers were asking $5,000.
A man we will call Mr. T is from Boston. He's around 30, and hasn't been home in 10 days. He's fighting against Jimmy from Pittsburgh and more like him from almost every big city in America.
''Went to New York about nine days ago,'' said Mr. T, ''got a hotel room, put ads in some of the papers, trying to score the tickets the Giants season ticket-holders got. We did OK. Not great. But it gave us a start. This wasn't too good until Wednesday or so, and it took off. The ticket is red-hot. I mean red-hot. These New York fans got money, and want to spend it.''
Mr. T considers his group at the high end of the business. It's a family deal and has been for years. His father worked Boston Garden and Fenway Park for years.
''We got clients,'' he said. ''Regulars. They know we are good. We're not going to stiff them. Before we get the tickets we have a list of buyers. We don't have to go looking for anyone. We know how much they will pay at the end of the day. So the big thing for us is to get the tickets.''
The client might be waiting in Boston or some other New England community for the call from Mr. T. When he has made the buy, the customer is contacted and told to get his plane ticket, hotel room, and head to Tampa.
Mr. T got smart. He cleared out of the hotel lobby, even though it was the best place to catch tickets, because league officials, coaches, players, and media members pass through on a regular basis. The plethora of cellphones put the business on hold. The cellphones weren't working. Also, a big parade was going on, and there was an electrical overload downtown.
Roger from Miami (not his real name, but his real city) was talking about the best customers. ''You're from Boston and those Patriot fans are the cheapest bastards I have ever seen,'' he said. ''Green Bay bailed us out the year they played in New Orleans. New England people acted like we should give them the tickets. Green Bay people just wanted to get into the game. They wanted to see it no matter what. Patriots fans would watch it in a bar and tell people they went to the game.''
Mr. T had this story about the Green Bay fans. ''The best ticket ever was Green Bay-Denver at San Diego,'' he said. ''Small stadium. Both teams had great fans. Price kept going up all week. I had a few left, but I had a price in my mind and I wasn't going to dump the tickets before the game without getting my price. People were circling around the stadium looking for tickets. Kickoff, I still had them. I didn't blink. California's good. [Scalping] is legal. They don't bother you. Believe it. At the half, they caved. The game was so good inside, I sold what I had left at the half and got out of town.''
Flying to Florida after the Patriots' Super Bowl in New Orleans five years ago, this writer sat beside a part-time hustler from Fort Lauderdale. ''I got a friend of mine that runs a big ticket agency, and he takes me to all the big events,'' the man said. ''He just touches the big stuff. Super Bowl. World Series. Masters. Final Four. In a good year, it's big.'' Mr. Fort Lauderdale said he went into New Orleans 10 days before the game, camped in a hotel room, and bought tickets from Saints fans. By the time the game was over, his group had handled more than 500 tickets, and he thought his boss would clear ''between $150,000 to $200,000 when all the bills were paid.''
At the Green Bay-Denver Super Bowl in San Diego, your humble servant and his bride, Mrs. Big, went to a fine restaurant in La Jolla, a very upscale suburb, because our host had the credit card. Several minutes after being seated, a man in his 40s sat down and introduced himself. He was an acquaintance of our host. He told me he was in the ticket business, and when I asked him how many tickets he had for the game, he said about 1,000. I didn't believe him, and he knew it. So he reached over into his carrying bag, opened a zippered compartment, and came out with a fistful of tickets the size of a sidewalk brick. Several hundred, but not 1,000. When I said that, he reached in again. ''These are the good ones,'' he said, smiling, and reaching in a third time, he came up with a handful of unopened envelopes. ''Haven't even opened these yet,'' he said, knowing he had proven his case. He said he was ''national'' and had an egde on the competition because of the California laws. ''I don't do business except for the top people,'' he said. ''Biggest corporations. They know I get the best stuff [top tickets] and I deliver. No headaches. If they want, I get them hotel rooms, limos, whatever they need. It's all clean.''
The memories came back yesterday walking around the stadium three hours before kickoff. Hundreds of fans had signs that read: ''Need Tickets.'' You can bet Mr. T, Jimmy from Pittsburgh, and the rest of their associates were in the area, waiting to meet their needs.
However, it was not a good weekend for many. As kickoff approached, the tickets didn't appear. The big sale never arrived. ''Big ticket brokers took all kinds of ticket orders and couldn't produce,'' said one hustler. ''I'm told they all unplugged their cellphones and ran from customers. There are plenty of people who came down here thinking they had guarantees and the brokers ran for cover when they couldn't get them tickets. I'm outside the stadium [during the second quarter] and the guys that got a couple left are looking for $3,000 per seat at the top of the stadium. It's insane.''
For the right price, and no matter how long it took, the sellers were going to make their score and move on.
Next stop, Final Four.
