The time on the radio in my mom’s little red Honda Civic reads 8:45 in the morning. The speedometer needle is rapidly falling from 60mph to 45mph to 25mph as the car enters downtown Lincoln on 9th street heading south on this slightly overcast but still fair weathered day. Three people are standing along both sides of the street in a triangular shape, two of which are holding identical white signs with red lettering and the other holding a handmade cardboard sign with scribbles made by a black Sharpie, all three of the signs read “I NEED TICKETS.” Scalpers.
Only two blocks south of the first three scalpers are there more people standing on the west side of 9th street. One is a man holding another handmade “I NEED TICKETS” sign and the other is a boy holding a sign almost bigger in size than he is. Right behind this pair is the closed little white shack used to sell Husker memorabilia like t-shirts and hats to the visiting population. The Honda turns east on P street and comes to a stop at the traffic light on the intersection with 10th street.
Four more guys are standing on the northwest corner of the intersection here. One of them is holding a neon green sign reading, “NEED TICKETS, TOP $ PAID.” Two of the guys are just standing there it seems locked in a discussion. The last guy is holding up two tickets spread apart in one hand. All four of them are decked out in Husker hats and jackets. The memorabilia suggests that they might be fans but the fact that at the same corner where one person is looking for tickets and another is selling them makes me wonder if for them it is less about the game and more about the money to be made off legit fans. A white mid-90’s Silverado smashes the tires against the curb and stops next to the four men. Meanwhile he is impeding traffic and blocking up two cars behind him. The scalper steps back from the truck with the tickets still clutched in his hand and a displeased look on his face. The Silverado rolls away and continues north on 10th street.
The last three blocks till my destination pass without much incidence and the Civic hangs a left at 13th street, passes the homeless guy who makes his residence out of the benches on the west side of the street, and comes to a stop against the curb in front of Valentino’s downtown location and my job as a delivery driver.
Is it even about the game anymore or is it just about the money? You have scalpers out in the constant cycle of buying and selling tickets for a profit. The Husker gear that all of them adorn is almost a camouflage when they are standing on a corner surrounded by fans. Then you have the companies like Valentino’s who not only sell pizza at their downtown location but also at the stadium less than 10 blocks away for $1 more. A distance of less than 10 blocks ups the price of a single slice of pizza. Every parking lot in the downtown area charges for parking during the game at rates that are double or triple the usual amount on a non-game day. The lot right next door charges $11 to park there for the event, and it usually ends up full. Driving anywhere around downtown and you will notice signs by every lot with amounts ranging from $5 to $15 depending on the distance to the stadium. Even the frats and sororities get involved by selling off the little parking they have. Fans are forced to either pay outrageous prices for parking or do what some fans do, park an outrageous distance away from downtown on the side streets. Game days are perfect examples of capitalism at it's finest.
Then of course you have the memorabilia. A little blond haired boy is hopping in an awkward circle around his father. The kid is wearing red nylon shorts, a Husker jersey, a little white sweatband bearing the Husker logo and he even has a little “N” painted on his cheek. The father isn’t quite as loaded down with merchandise with just his Nebraska hat and shirt. No doubt he spent quite a bit of money on the paraphernalia for him and his child. Then of course there is the gear celebrating the new coach of the Huskers, Bo Pelini. I wonder if he gets a cut of the profits for using his name?
It is 4 o’clock and only 3 hours till kickoff of the game. The number of people walking around has picked up and every once in awhile you notice a small huddle of orange clad people making their way down a sidewalk taking precaution to avoid the masses of red. As I venture forth on my delivery to the Post Office off of the 7th street my little red Honda ducks, dodges, and weaves like a running back through the endless sea of fans adorned in red. 
The cops are out in full force directing traffic and people to the best of their abilities. The officer standing in the intersection blowing the whistle hanging in his mouth and waving his hands has your typical blue police uniform and little black hat. One thing is out of place. He is wearing a pair of yellow sunglasses that look like they belong on a kindergarten child and not a member of law enforcement. Once through the red sea and into the Haymarket area of downtown the number of red shirts lessens to a lake instead of a sea. The smell of beer and sounds of drunks yelling can be heard from the many establishments littering the Haymarket. The Civic arrives at the Post Office building and pulls to a stop facing the wrong direction and blocking up two parking spots. Oddly there is only one other car in this particular parking lot besides me. The delivery is done and the Honda begins the journey back to the store. The doorway to downtown, 9th street, has now become a gridlock of anxious fans trying to enter downtown. Twenty minutes pass and the Civic barely manages to move a block. The smells of grilled meat and sounds of rabid drunks coming from the tailgaters in the Journal Star parking lot overwhelms you while you impatiently wait for traffic to move. A scalper weaves between the stopped cars to approach a vehicle. On the sidewalk two college girls, one blond and the other brunette, are clad in white Husker shirts. They are distributing CD's to people walking along the sidewalk. One girl runs up to my car and shoves a CD into my hands and rushes back to the bank of the 9th street river of cars.So what is the cost of attending a Husker football game? First there is the price of the ticket which has no doubt increased after scalpers. To be a true fan you have to be adorned in the appropriate attire of course so spending money on shirts, hats, etc. is a must. Of course you have to travel to the game, get a hotel room if you are not a local, and then pay outlandish prices for parking if you don't feel like walking a couple of miles. Now if you're over 21 then you will probably end up spending money at one of the many bars downtown. You need food to go with the beer so there goes more money from the jacked up food prices. Husker football games have been sold out since 1962 and the businesses love it. Bars are packed with people celebrating before and after the game. All the tables at restaurants are full. All the rooms at the major hotels downtown are booked. And all the fans wondering about are drenched in red, black, or white Husker gear. Shirts, hats, sweatshirts, jackets, you name it and there is a Husker version of it. It’s no doubt that the businesses love the money that is brought in by Husker football games and maybe that is just what we need right now in the face of the current economic conditions. But maybe it’s just fueling the problem. All that money that is brought in from Husker football has to go someplace. While my wallet is usually kept full by the generous fans on game days most of the money goes other places. The owners of the businesses whether they are small or corporate owned are the ones that end up scoring big on game days. The real fans end up broke paying for tickets, parking, and food while everyone else exploits the fans’ passion for the game. Husker football is good for the economy, but who’s economy?
