Being the sappy Bulls fan that I am, I’ve probably watched the ’90s championship DVDs hundreds of times. Each time I do, there’s one thing that makes me feel more nostalgic than anything else.
 
No, it’s not the sight of Jordan’s final shot over a helpless Bryon Russell to finish the Jazz in 1998 or Steve Kerr’s buzzer beater for the fifth championship. Incredibly, what really gets to me has nothing to do with the players.
 
It’s the fans.
 
Back then, the Bulls had one of the most loyal fan bases in all of sports. Sure, winning six championships with the greatest player of all time helps, but trust me, these weren’t your ordinary bandwagon fans. When the Bulls played, time was frozen in Chicago. Nothing else mattered.
 
Things are different now. Ticket prices have soared as the economy continues to affect NBA teams, and it has become harder and harder for an everyday fan to get into a game. In 2007, the average Bulls ticket cost an absurd $63, and ticket prices in general have been trending upward recently. This year is actually the first time ticket prices for NBA games have fallen (the average ticket costs $48.90, a 2.8 percent drop from last year). Still, don’t let that fool you. Nearly $50 is plenty of dough, and far too much for many fans.
The fact remains that there are truly loyal fans out there who simply cannot afford to buy tickets to games anymore. If they do make it to games, they are forced to sit high up in the 300 level, where the players look like tiny dots running across the floor. These days, you’re more likely to see a stuck-up corporate executive sifting through his BlackBerry at a game than a die-hard fan that never takes his or her eyes off the action.
 
In that sense, college sports are an oasis of sorts. As students at the University, access to any sporting event is literally at our fingertips (so long as we get on the computer in time). Tickets are included in our student fees, so we never have to worry about forking over an extra $50 just to get into a game.
 
It’s a cold world out there for ticket-seekers, and students are among the few people left who can still get into a game for a reasonable price. The University is particularly kind, giving students access to every football or basketball game for a $195 fee. By comparison, it costs more to buy season tickets for just football at the University of Michigan ($210).
 
Since many of the most passionate Duck fans (the students) can get into games without emptying their wallets, the atmosphere is noticeably electric. The real fans come first, rather than the corporate stooges who have taken over the crowds of many professional teams. It pains me that when I walk around the United Center today, I feel more like I’m at a hotel conference room than a basketball game.
 
However flawed the online ticketing system here may be (believe me, I know: it almost lost me my ticket to the USC game), students should feel lucky to have great seats readily available all the time. This is one of the few times in life that it’s going to be this easy (and this cheap) to get a ticket. After graduation, it’s back to the harsh reality of paying face value for tickets.
 
Last year, one of the few Bulls games I could attend was on New Year’s Eve against the Orlando Magic. I was pumped; it had been awhile since I’d seen my beloved team at home. My excitement remained until the opening tip, when I noticed something that absolutely floored me. The crowd was silent. Seriously, it was like someone had pressed a mute button for the United Center. For the first time in my life, I felt out of place making noise at a sporting event. It was then that I realized something was desperately wrong with the professional sports and their ticketing prices. If these are the only people who go to games anymore, what’s the point?
 
Then I remembered the crowds on those DVDs, the passionate souls who lived for their team. Those people are still out there, they just can’t afford tickets anymore. And if they had to sit, refreshing a Web site over and over for hours to get a ticket, they would do it in a heartbeat. So enjoy the oasis while you can, Duck fans. In a few years, unless you’re inordinately rich, you’ll probably be watching your teams at home or at a sports bar, just like I will.
 
Next round’s on me!
 
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