I can't say I've ever been shut out of The Big Game, typically because Toledo has no such thing. And the Can't Miss Concert is usually some no-longer-relevant '80s rock group at the county fair. No problem getting in there, either. But for bigger cities, the "SOLD OUT" sign basically shoots down the high hopes of fans and concertgoers alike.A man aliased "Max Deale" looks at a "SOLD OUT" sign the same way he sees "MENS ROOM" or "EXIT" or "NO SMOKING" signs. He expects them, and just continues into the venue without any hesitation. In his how-to/first person account Sold Out, So What?, he shares the tricks and gambits he's used over the years to get in cheap and sit down close.For example, our protagonist wanted to see Pink Floyd's Roger Waters in concert. He could have paid $125 for nosebleeds through a ticket broker or $275 on Craigslist to sit close to the front. Instead, he sat behind the soundboard for $46. (I actually don't know what a "soundboard" is, but I'm assuming it's closer.) And he got those tickets the day of the show through the box office.And you can too! Or something!!The book goes through all the strategies (he calls them "plays," because it sometimes pertains to sporting events - he couldn't come up with a good metaphor for all the music fans) on how to handle scalpers, ushers, and everything that jacks up the price of going to a big event.Obviously the book hits the sweet spot of the problem — dare it be called a crisis — of middle men gouging the prices of tickets just because they got to them first by paying India's finest to zip through web forms and CAPTCHA prompts. Face value price is very hard to pay. So the book can help the individual or small group sit way closer. Of course, the obvious realization is that Deale's plays are comparable to stock tips. If everybody gets this book, studies the tips, and puts them to use, at what point do they become obsolete? Or worse... illegal? (Some towns already have minor laws against seat switching. Auburn Hills, Michigan, home of the Detroit Pistons, is the example he gives.) I could see the cat-and-mouse game of fans vs. ushers go 'round and 'round much like the card counters and blackjack tables did.The writing style reminded me of Tucker Max, and I haven't really even read Tucker Max. Maybe it's just the name "Max" that triggered the connection, plus Tucker Max is way more crass. At least Max Deale keeps it PG-13, and instead of screwing random drunk blonde girls, he's screwing ticket brokers and sometimes ushers, which is way more empowering and a style you can take home to mother.Also, most of these moves are probably best suited for the 18-35 male[1]. (Max would probably admit as much.) A family of four probably won't be trying these anytime soon, so don't look to this book for advice. In that case, my personal suggestion — which is what I normally do in the summer — is to attend minor league baseball, which can be just as fun as the big league equivalent. For example, Saturday I went to a Lowell Spinners game and paid $11.50 for admission, a cheeseburger, a Diet Pepsi, and ice cream. $11.50 might be the final price for a ticket using Max Deale's moves to get into a Red Sox game an hour south of Lowell.But the final message from him is that tickets are to be had and money is to be saved. If one tries any of these tactics so much as once, they basically saved money equivalent to the book, and then some. Sold Out So What? is available on Amazon.com and Max Deale's website. I really don't know what to tell you if there are no more copies available.
"A sinister cabal of superior writers."
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