Game Day Logistics
Flags, cowbells, whistles, furry hats, gigantic photographs, inspirational signs, game-face make-up—all of these are part and parcel of game day fandom. But have you wondered, while you are watching the cheering crowds, what game day logistics are like, and how the spectators were able to nab choice tickets in the first place?
I’ve now had the opportunity to attend four different Olympic events, and I obtained my own tickets in four ways which, I think, exemplify the ticket spectrum:
Long Track Speed Skating Women’s 3000 metres (Richmond Oval): Scalper.
Women’s Curling qualification round (Vancouver Olympic Centre): Won.
Alpine Skiing Men’s Super Combined (Whistler Creekside): Bought when event was postponed from a ticket holder.
Women’s Hockey Semi-finals (Canada Hockey Place, Vancouver): Bought before the Games, as part of the original ticket releases.
My partner and I decided to try our luck and our wallets with a scalper on Day Two of the games, since he would only be joining me for the first weekend in Vancouver before having to return to his job, and because we were already swept up in the excitement and wanted to witness a live event, preferably one with some Canadian medal hopefuls. At first the sky train confused us as we ended up on a train going to the airport, but other commuters were friendly and helpful and told us where to transfer for the Olympic Oval in Richmond. A line waved its way for a full kilometre, and I stood in it while Christopher tried his luck along the edges, looking for men (scalpers in my experience are almost always exclusively men) in leather jackets, intermittently blurting “tickets, tickets,” or holding up fingers to indicate how many tickets might be available.
While we had given ourselves a good hour and a half before the race start time, we were shocked to find we were cutting it close: security lines were moving at a turtle pace (the security to each venue at the games is the same as at the airport with metal detectors, x-rays, and body searches), and the scalpers we did uncover were hoping to buy tickets rather than sell them. The one or two we did find at first who had tickets in hand wanted $600 for the $100 face value. That three Canadian skaters were going to race (Cindy Klassen, Clara Hughes, and Kristina Groves), all darlings of the sport, didn’t help the situation, and it also made us more desperate to find something in our price range, and even more nervous that if we did the tickets might be fakes.
However, as things tend to do, it all worked out. Closer to the gates, just a little to the side of the stadium, Chris found a ticket broker (preferred title to “scalper”) from Edmonton with two tickets at $300 each. More than we wanted to spend, for sure, but cheaper than the other scalpers, and cheaper than the “fan to fan marketplace”—a legal form of outrageous ticket inflation handled by VANOC where you can sell your tickets for as much as you’d like, and even put them up for live auction. We decided to go for it, and it was a pleasure to watch a Canadian win a bronze medal! After the hour and a half race, we stood in line for nearly the same amount of time for the sky train. Our day of getting to the games had started at 10am and ended at 6pm.
A couple of nights later, Shaw TV, a sponsor of CANFund, offered two tickets for curling qualification rounds for a raffle at 2 pm—the private bus with other sponsor ticket holders leaving at 5:30 pm. I won the tickets and called up my friend, Olympian Alexandra Orlando, to invite her to join me. She was ecstatic—I had no idea she was such a curling fan. And we received the royal treatment—particularly welcome since Alex has been working almost every day at Canada Olympic House and volunteering at CANFund as well—a large comfortable bus with leather chairs and refreshments, a VIP no-waiting screening tent, prime seats to all the curling action, and the bus ready and waiting to take us back to our originating point.
My next live event was yesterday at Whistler Creekside and is, I think, partially responsible for the cold I’m now fighting as I type this. Due to event postponement, one of the summer Olympians, a synchronized swimmer, asked if I wanted to buy her Alpine Skiing ticket. I hesitated only for a moment, and I’m glad that I went, but the day-trip to Whistler and back is not for the faint of heart, or for those who need a full night’s sleep or a warm place from which to enjoy the action. In order to attend the 9:30 am Super Combined event (downhill at 9:30 am and then slalom at 12:15), I had to pre-book a taxi to arrive at 4:45 am (so wake-up at 4 am), to take me to Langara College to catch the 5 am Olympic bus network for arrival at Whistler Creekside at 7:30 am. Then, a little walk, security, and a chairlift later (I am afraid of heights and have not been on a chairlift in 20 years), and a large tea (the temperature went from -14 degrees to 6 + degrees over a few hours), and I take my seat in the stands and listen to commentary and watch the camera runs and forerunners take the course before the event officially begins.
The food is similar from venue to venue: hot dogs for $5, a choice of one or two sandwiches for $8, Powerade for $5, tea for $2 or $3, and it gets old fast. You are not permitted to bring in any outside food or drink (or “criminally prohibited weapons” according to signs). Also, because VISA is a sponsor, you can only use a VISA card or cash to pay. Still, it was an experience to be at the finish line to cheer on those skilled and lucky enough to finish their runs, and it was a thrill to see American skiing legend Bode Miller win his first gold Olympic medal. After the flower ceremony at 1:30 pm, I headed back down the hill, to a bus line-up, and then it was another 2 hours and 15 minutes to Langara College. Then the sky train. 11 hours which included only 2 hours of skiing competition. And nasty, smelly portable washrooms that you have to navigate in all your outdoor clothing.
Today, at least I could attend the games in Vancouver proper, and even walk to the venue. Also, since it’s regularly home to the Vancouver Canucks, the many gates and entrances and exits made for a much easier entry and exit time (although washroom line-ups during intermission were about 20 minutes long—longer than intermission). And the atmosphere inside the arena was electric, as everyone present, even a couple of lonely Finns, were fairly confident the Canadians were going to win handily. And they did. And so we are guaranteed a medal in women’s ice hockey, always a cause for celebration in Canada.
And I’d like to end this entry by saying that although there is a lot of hassle involved in the logistics of attending these games, the Olympic volunteers make the experience as stress-free and pleasant as possible. I have yet to find someone who doesn’t concur with that statement. No matter what the job—collecting garbage, driving a bus, directing line-ups, handling security, or giving out maps—I have encountered only friendliness, happiness, and clear, easy-to-follow instructions given with a smile. I’m not joking. It’s astonishing—someone should be studying this. And here at the CAN Fund athlete house, people have left their paying jobs, taking vacation pay or a leave of absence, to do such things as give manicures and massages to the athletes and their families, to work the daycare section (which Ruby, daughter of Jane Roos, calls “Fun School”), to serve drinks and food (Steamwhistle came from Toronto to do this), and to handle all other logistics of running the house for over two weeks.
And so, in honour of these stellar volunteers who are, like me, on what we are calling “Olympic Time”—about three or four hours sleep a night and constant busying about—I will post the poem “Ode to Zamboni Drivers,” as I look forward to more women’s hockey and short-track speed skating events. Tickets are cash here. If you lose them, there’s no way of printing new tickets, so I’m keeping a careful eye on mine.
