There’s something refreshingly honest about CU charging such outrageous prices for football tickets. To me, the price reflects a tacit admission that college football, in general, and CU football, in particular, have more to do with fund-raising than with school spirit, team-building or education. Once you accept this, it’s no longer surprising that our ticket prices rank first, even though the Buffs don’t. It seems that the scores that count the most are expressed in dollars and cents rather than points on a scoreboard.

This perspective fits well with the general sociopolitical trend to value financial success over other forms of achievement, especially educational achievement for its own sake. Coming from the business school, this hierarchy of values may make some sense. Coming from the larger educational institution, it smacks of hypocrisy.

It’s a short trip from there to questions about whether a state educational institution should be recruiting students based on their ability to contribute to development efforts. The ethics here become even trickier when you consider data showing that only 1.6% of college players go on to professional careers in the NFL and that the brains of 91% of deceased former college football players show signs of chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE). Another study found that former college players self-reported a significantly higher prevalence of cognitive impairment diagnoses, recurrent headaches, cardiovascular diseases and hypercholesterolemia compared with a matched sample. (To be fair, former players were less likely to suffer from diabetes.) According to a study published in the Journal of Athletic Training, college athletes involved in collision sports “may sacrifice their future HRQoL (health-related quality of life) compared with contact and limited-contact athletes.” To make the playing field more uneven, one study found up to 91% of college football players underestimate their risk of injury, raising questions of informed consent. In other words, college football is designed to support the long-term security of universities at the expense of threatening the long-term security of its student players.

Our concerns about ticket prices might more appropriately be directed at a state-supported school that endangers its students at the expense of providing a well-rounded education and the prospect of a long and healthy life.

Elyse Morgan, emorgan2975@gmail.com

In the 1960s, a fistful of milk carton coupons carefully curated could be redeemed for a free New York Yankees home game. The seats weren’t great, but I saw Mickey Mantle and Whitey Ford play, multiple times for free. In 1965, a Box Seat along first baseline would set you back $3.50. The Mick’s salary contract for that year was a whopping $100,000. That was 60 years ago.

Twenty years ago, every Friday afternoon in the fall, a thick stack of CU football tickets sat unloved on the receptionist’s desk at Boulder High School, stamped “complimentary” on the back. Both of these memories are lessons in supply and demand.

Today, according to the Oddspedia 2025 College Football Game Index, CU Football is ranked number one in ticket price. A pair of home game tickets will set you back $300. If you want a closer look at Prime Time, you might pay as much as $1,500 for two seats together on the secondary market.

A new cultural sensibility now dominates the entertainment industry, and the Fear of Missing Out (FOMO) is the new Overlord. Sports are marketed not just as a game but an experience. You may just witness something spectacular, something never seen before. You need to be there, and it will cost you. I’m not just talking about a great catch. You could actually see Deion Sanders and Lil Wayne high-five each other. Now you have bragging rights.

We also live in a moment when college athletes are getting paid. Arch Manning, the 21-year-old junior who will be the starting quarterback for the Texas Longhorns, has a market value of $6.8 million. College tuition isn’t going to cover that. The Micks’ 1965 baseball contract in today’s dollars would be just a bit over the million-dollar mark. Number 7 couldn’t retire in Boulder on that kind of money.

Some believe that ticket prices should be pro-rated and lowered out of respect for the fan who appreciates the game and has demonstrated dedication through long-standing team support. And while it is true that eligible CU students can purchase a Sports Pass, demand is high, and they sell out quickly. If a true fan is not subject to the law of supply and demand, then I could reasonably expect my pair of Paul McCartney concert tickets would cost me about a hundred dollars. They did not. I became a victim of FOMO. The cost of living is expensive, and so is the cost of missing out, and one must pay for the experience they desire.

At 73, I am still afflicted by FOMO and will dip into my pocketbook one last time to sing “Let it Be” with my tribe. But more than that, I want to catch as many magnificent sunsets as I can on the Davidson Mesa, and I don’t even need milk carton coupons for the privilege.

Jim Vacca, jamespvacca1@gmail.com

The Libertarian in me wants to argue for charging whatever the market will bear. However, there is no way that CU has the best football product or, most importantly, the rabid fan base to charge top dollar. If CU can pack a stadium, even our puny 50,000-seat Folsom Field, then what could Alabama charge? $3,000? Texas could still sell out even if it required the deed to your house and your firstborn! But they don’t. It’s because college sports should be about more than making money.

It should be, but it’s not any longer. Now CU football players are professionals. They get paid. How long will it be before the NCAA stops requiring players to take classes and work towards a degree? That will be a sad day, and not just because it will decimate CU’s Communications and Sociology departments.

Prices should be tied to performance, and that jives with the market. CU fans are fickle. There are so many other great things to do on a Saturday afternoon that if CU isn’t winning, we’d rather go skiing or climbing or biking or hiking or running. In Nebraska, fans have few other choices. In Omaha, it is either watch the Cornhuskers or watch the corn huskers.

Here’s what I propose. Tickets should have a base price of $25 for the cheapest seats (better seats get multiplied by an upgrade factor, but let’s just talk about the nosebleed seats). If CU went to a bowl game the previous season, tack on $20. If they won the bowl game, tack on another $20.

Then tack on the value of $40 minus the final ranking. Then, as the season progresses, tack on $20 times the number of wins squared. Yes, that’s complicated, so let’s do some realistic examples.

For CU’s first game, we start with $25 and tack on $20 for going to a bowl game last season, which we lost, so no extra $20. We’re up to $45. We ended the season ranked #25, so we add (40-25 = $15) to get $60 tickets for the opener. I’d even be fine with adding another $20 because it’s the opener, but after the first game, we revert to the formula.

If CU goes undefeated up until the last home game (Arizona State, Nov. 22), they’d have eight wins for an additional $1,280 (20 * 82) or $1,340 for the cheapest ticket. Steep, yes, but what are the odds of that happening?

But, if it does happen, people will pay the price, and median-income fans (read: professors and baristas) can watch it on TV. On the plus side, if CU stinks it up this year, the stadium will be packed next year with all of us die-hard, cheapskate fans! ‘Sko Buffs!

Bill Wright, bill@wwwright.com