The Joy of the Seat Upgrade/Downgrade & Why Teams Ruin the Fun

One year for my birthday (I was probably 13 or 14), I convinced my parents to let me take a small group of friends to a ballgame at Qualcomm stadium. Pitching in his big league debut was Ben Howard, a young flamethrower who, along with Dennis Tankersley, looked poised to anchor the Padres rotation for years to come. Johnson had trouble finding the strike zone that day, and the game quickly turned sour. My friends and I lost interest in the game by the fourth inning, but soon turned our interest to summiting the mountainous concrete bowl that is Qualcomm Stadium. We wished to sit in the oxygen-deprived seats at the very top of upper-view level.

We made our way up the Q’s infamous spiral ramps with the same swiftness of a Nepalian Sherpa summiting Everest. Upon reaching view level; we turned left, walking to the furthest possible section where we were poised to finally experience the thrill of being closer to the overhead blimp than home plate. We never reached our intended destination. Before we were able to enter our desired section of seats, an usher (is there some unwritten rule that ushers must be eligible to collect social security), asked to see our tickets. I calmly showed the gentleman my ticket, and began walking toward the seats. That’s when I was sternly told to not proceed any further. I informed the usher that our seats were field level, which were much better seats than view level, and that since nobody was sitting in view level, “downgrading” should not be a problem. This must have gotten the man worked up, because he proceeded to lecture me and my friends on the history of “open seating” at Qualcomm Stadium. Supposedly, at one time, fans could sit pretty much wherever they wanted, but those days had long passed, and fans were now constrained to the seat marked on their ticket. Dejected, yet thinking we were pretty cool for attempting to challenge an authority figure, my friends and I returned to our seats where we watched the end of the game. None of us could understand why downgrading seats was not allowed.

To this day, when I take in a big league ballgame, I often hear fans complain that they cannot upgrade to the empty seats closer to the field. I am not sympathetic to these complaints. If upgrades were permitted, many people otherwise willing to buy the more expensive tickets, would instead purchase cheap seats, but sit in the empty seats below. Not only would the Padres lose out on a good amount of revenue, but the viewing experience would surely be decreased, as a flood of people would be wondering around the lower levels looking for empty seats, and being forced to move when the rightful ticket holder shows up.

The case against allowing ticket downgrades is not so obvious. The Padres are selling an expensive ticket, but the downgrading fan is sitting in a cheaper seat. Likewise, there are often a lot of empty sections in the upper corners of the stadium, so there are not many fans with tickets to those seats who will have their view obstructed by others searching for empty seats. The real problem with allowing downgrades is the Padres would be forced to hire additional personnel such as extra security and more custodial staff. Additionally, while the team would not necessarily be required to add food vendors, fans without convenient access to ballpark snacks are much less likely to purchase these high margin concessions since there is are added transaction costs to the fans (expending extra energy to walk to further concession stands, and spending more time away from the game). Once again, the result is decreased revenue to the team.

Both seat upgrades and seat downgrades are costly to teams. Before you complain about not being allowed to move to an empty seat, please consider that the Padres are not being insensitive to customer service, but actually have solid business reasons to limiting fans to sitting in their marked seat.