The Great American Beergame

Diamondbacks 14, Astros 7. Yeah, that's what happened last night at Chase Field.

A friend of mine invited me out yesterday to go to the game, and seeing as how it was a free ticket, I happily obliged. I don't often go to sports games given the price and as is the case with baseball, just not worth it to me. Granted, with the new light rail directly linking me to Central Phoenix, going to games, concerts, and the like is much more appealing than it was when you had to take the 30 for an hour or so to get downtown.

But I digress. While watching the game (and the unforgettable third inning) my friend bought us a few beers to go with our $4.50 bag of peanuts. I asked how much they were, and they were a whopping $4 each. Christ. So I slowly enjoyed that beer but I knew the right thing to do would be to buy another round. (sigh...) I go to the kiosk and they don't take credit. I'm sorry, I thought I lived in the 21st century in the US. Every place took credit except the beer stands. But, if I wanted, I could go any of the restaurants/fast food eateries and buy beer for $9 a pop. Wait? What?

At this point, I'm getting frustrated. If I pay with a card, it's an extra $5 per glass, but I don't have any cash to avoid it. What's more is that I'm in Chase Field and lo and behold I don't bank with them so if I use the ATM I'll get charged. Well, I went to the Chase ATM (grrr), withdrew $40, and paid a friendly $3 fee plus whatever my bank is going to charge me. The sad thing is, this is all planned out, and although I hate to say it: The Pragmatic Economist applauds you, Chase Field (albeit reluctantly...)

When buying naming rights to the stadium you'd better believe they got the banking rights as well. And although you can buy food at the same price regardless the method of payment, beer sales have vertical restrictions imposed. This means the owner (Chase) can tell kiosks where they can sell their wares (between sections 141 and 143, for example), for how much ($4), and how (cash only). This limits free movement. And though this doesn't directly contribute to inflated prices (I guarantee beer would be $4 regardless), it does force a small, yet sizable, chunk of attendees to stop at the local ATM. Given the lines I witnessed, and knowing that not all of these people are Chase customers, you can make a good chunk of change just by giving people their own money which they will subsequently spend in your stadium!

I remember talking about this type of thing in a class a few years ago. Cheap tickets are subsidized by high concessions. Barring the small percentage of people who can smuggle food in, you are a hungry, thirsty captive audience lured in by inexpensive seats. This surely doesn't surprise anyone, but think about what the opposite arrangement would be like.

Assume tickets subsidized concession prices. For example, a nosebleed seat costs $30 but you eat and drink for free. I bet this would be a fabulous business model. We already know a hot dog costs next to nothing to produce and beer can flow freely without much cost either. There would be significant expenses naturally, and you might not sell-out games, but you could make a good profit. So, why don't ballparks do this then?

1) It will drive people who don't consume concessions away. So I guess we lose the straight-edge vegan demographic. On the other hand, you get the frat boy crowd. Families would likely be out due to stifling ticket prices.

Solution: Give people who don't want free concessions cheaper tickets, and to ensure they don't cheat, use indelible ink to keep track, or segregate them. Or, pass out drink and food "tickets".

Caveat: People could get a full-paying person to buy goods. And "tickets" defeat the purpose of concessions subsidies when you think about it.

2) Drunk-driving groups would pounce immediately, politicians would talk about how the Great American Pastime has been morally corrupted or some such nonsense, et cetera. All in all, lots of complaints.

Solution: Roadblocks, breathalyzers, and the like. Arizona already has one of the strictest DUI laws in the country, use that as a threat.

Caveat: Left to their own devices, people drink too much, willingly or not. And most people (and I in no way advocate this) will take the risk of getting caught/killed.

So I guess in the end, it's not such a good idea, but for a moment it seemed like a distant yet attainable possibility. Kudos to the light rail by the way, a quick 30 minutes ride or so that didn't smell like vomit or urine.

Extra Credit: Thank you to "thegordons" of Flickr for the image of Chase Field.

(http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/deed.en)

Google Voice and Area Code Snobbery

As some of you may know, Google said, "let there be Voice". And there was. Google Voice is the latest and greatest in Google revolutionary thought (actually it's acquired thought from the now-defunct company GrandCentral). Google Voice is like Gmail or anything else Google except for your telephone. Here's how it works:

You get a GV number free from Google after waiting a few weeks for an invitation. You can chose your area code and all that jazz, then whenever someone calls your GV number, the call gets forwarded to your cell, office, home, or whatever phone(s) you'd like. Online, it gives you free texts from your GV number, transcribes voicemail and puts it online for you, and a whole lot more. So I'm sure you're wondering how I like it? I wouldn't know. I haven't been able to choose a phone number to my liking.

Google bought up about 1,000,000 numbers across the US for it's launch of Google Voice, and sure enough there wasn't so much as one available in an area code of my choosing when I got my invite. As we know, I live in Phoenix, the city that never cools down. I already have a great phone number. It's sleek, fun, and even has a strange family connection. All in all, a desirable, classic phone number. But I can't port my phone number to Google, so I have to get a new GV number.

Alas, the time comes to get my number from Google Voice. I have two area codes I am willing to have: Washington, DC (202) or Phoenix (602). I would prefer a DC number because I intend to move there after graduation and I already have a sweet 602 number. So I tell GV to find me a 202 number. Denied. Seriously? Ok then, 602, for the win. Rejected.

Not even a (gasp!) 480 number to be found. Oh, but Phoenix has one area code available from Google Voice: 623. The Pragmatic Economist doesn't do 623. 623 provokes thoughts of drug-cartels and bad Mexican food. No. Absolutely not. And then I realized it: I am an area code snob.

Is that wrong? Do you discriminate based on area code alone? I've always thought I was open-minded, egalitarian, and such, but having a 623 area code is like wearing the Scarlet Letter of area codes. It shouts "I have done something wrong". That may be a bit melodramatic, but nonetheless, somewhat true. So until I can get a real area code, preferably 202 of course, I will be waiting to experience the wonders of Google Voice. Alas, supply and demand you have bested me. I demand, Google supplies. Beggars can't be choosers, but I'm willing to wait. Begging is such a 623 type of thing to do anyway.

Google Voice Part 2

Extra Credit: Here are links to the "Defenestrated" blog (I'm jealous of the name!) and check out some of Google Voice's voicemail transcriptions. Class dismissed.

GV: Ohh Erica I shall be too late

Stupid Google Voice Transcriptions

The Earth is 6000 years old

It's August in Arizona and school is back in session. This is the first semester since my freshman year when I have classes everyday (god forbid I study 5 days a week). Today I had my first "real" lecture in anthropology. I like this class because it's freshman level, and I am undoubtedly older than 99% of the people in the room by merit of being a senior. It's refreshing seeing these kids frantically typing on their Macs and what not, knowing that I know better than to take thorough notes in a 100-level course. Being the schadenfraude lover I am, I don't tell them otherwise. Until now:

Here is the key to success in a 100-level class: show up, forget the notes.

There, I said it. And all the freshmen rejoice at this pearl of wisdom. Most everyone can remember the basics of a class like this, at least well enough to pass with a "B" (no offense meant towards my anthro buddies!)

Today in lecture I was blessed with hearing two exceptionally insightful questions, undoubtedly coming from the valedictorians from their respective high-school classes:

1) If giraffes have long necks, and don't use those long necks throughout adulthood, will said giraffes have little giraffe babies with no necks? Naturally the question I would have thought to ask even when talking about Lamarckism. Not.

2) So if the Earth isn't 6000 years old like you say, it has to be younger, right? Wrong, you are stupid. Fail.

I am happy to attend Arizona State University, where a pulse and a checkbook qualify you to study at an exceptional institution where we have an entire School of Sustainability but scant recycling across campus. A great place where the meeting of minds produces such thoughtful prattle as where the next beer-pong party will be held or which girl put out the first day in the dorms. And finally, a community where we pay our faculty nothing, expect furloughs, and then wonder "why isn't our childrens learned good?" Simple economics kids: Incentives rock the world. Pay less, anticipate less.

The Pragmatic Economist fails you Arizona State. I know you have to make do with the budget cuts and such, but a real world-class school acts like one. The Republicans upstairs cut your funding, fine, I get it. Perhaps you should tell legislators that students are entering college still thinking the Earth is 6000 years old. Maybe that would capture their attention? Wait...if our legislators had their ways, we would believe the Earth was flat and that angels really did dance on the heads of pins. Never mind.