Let me say, first and foremost, that I could give a fuck about any sport that’s not MMA. Seriously, unless you can open up somebody’s scalp with an elbow, unleashing a geyser of blood, crush their nose with a knee to the face, then choke them unconscious, your sport is lame, gay, and for pussies.

Now, as I’m a person who will do things “for the experience”, I will, and have, given a variety of events the benefit of the doubt, attending at the behest of friends. And by “friends”, I mean “girls I’d like to bang”. For example, this particular girl might be able to entice me to go see the most painfully boring sports like turtle racing, snooker, or LPGA golf (middle-aged bull dykes putting isn’t exactly an adrenaline rush) .

So, when my friend Max invited me to a Dodgers game, I didn’t really want to go. Baseball is about as fast paced as golf, only with more players. I would be quite content staying at home reading, watching a movie, or fucking a nineteen year old girl. But Max promised me a sporting event experience like I’d never had. He said that we’d go to the game VIP style, with every possible upgrade from parking, to dining, to sitting next to home plate, and he’d cover the check. I told him that I appreciated his offer, but his money was going to be wasted on me. He said not to worry, cuz we were gonna get all that…for five bucks.

This I gotta see.

Quick back story—Max wrote a book called Sold Out So What that is supposed to teach you how to get tickets to sold out concerts and sporting events for less than face value. It also asserts that it will give you secrets for sitting in even better seats than the ones you purchase. Basically you pay a pittance for tickets that nobody else can get then, regardless of where you’re assigned to sit, you end up in the pimpest seats.

Yeah right.

Max is a cool guy, so I read his book. It’s funny and interesting, but the entire time I’m reading my mind is silently calling bullshit to everything it says. First off, much of it is too simple. Secondly (second off?), that shit can’t possibly work in real life. Instead of calling him out and saying that his book is full of more lies than my psycho ex-girlfriend, I simply accept his offer to go to the Dodgers game.

The drive to the game is uneventful other than the fact that he got us there fast as shit in the midst of Friday night LA traffic. He should have written a fucking book about that trick. Aside of the quick ride, I’m prepared to arrive at Dodger stadium and, after five innings of watching boring ass baseball from the nosebleeds, hear him say something like, “Well, my techniques don’t always work so um, we’ll come again another time and you’ll really see something.” I suddenly realize the car has stopped and he’s getting out. We’re parked on a quiet street in the middle of nowhere. Now I’m annoyed cuz clearly the “cheap tickets” don’t include free parking. I ask how far we’re gonna have to walk and by the time I finish my sentence we’re in the parking lot at Dodger Stadium, where hundreds of others just paid fifteen bucks. What the fu…. He just laughs and says, “Free parking bitch. By the way, our spot is closer to the door than most of those and, when the game is over, we’ll be home by the time they get out of the lot.” Now I’m paying a little more attention but it is just parking.

Jump ahead about eight minutes and I’m here:

Actually, that’s not me, it’s Max. He hides his face because scalpers, ticket brokers, and the owners of every venue on the planet want to kill him. At the point he’s telling me this, we’re at our ticketed seats, somewhere near the fucking sun! Seriously, the only way to get higher up than our seats were would be the goddamn Space Shuttle. At this juncture I’m pretty sure that nobody who sells tickets wants to kill him, but I certainly do. I’m thinking about assisting his ass in taking the express elevator over the railing and down to the good seats. As I’m about to commit this justifiable crime, he says, “Let’s go.” Minutes later, I am here:

And instantly, I’m a believer.

This motherfucker walks us through multiple levels of security and I now know why he calls himself the “Ticket Jedi”. He pulls some mind tricks, sleight of hand, along with his “Season’s Greetings” scam and suddenly we were in the six hundred dollar seats. This is before the game has even started, meaning that there aren’t enough people there to even distract the event workers. Max doesn’t try to sneak by anybody. He fucking befriends them and shows them the tickets! I don’t give one damn about the Dodgers and I’m already having more fun than I have ever had at a sporting event. Admittedly, it’s still not as good as fucking a 19 year old girl, but it ain’t too bad either. Darth Scammer asks if I’m hungry so I’m like hell yeah, ready to hook up with a hot dog. I wonder if he can get us free dogs too but it turns out to be a big fat no.

We eat dinner in the Dugout Club.

In lieu of a soggy Dodger dog we had carved turkey, grilled sausages, asparagus, salad, pasta, and a selection of fresh baked desserts. We had these at the table next to the dude who owns the team. We had these amongst various celebrities, wealthy folk, and hot women, as opposed to the fat rednecks who were licking Cracker Jack crumbs off of their dirty fingers in the upper decks.

After stuffing my face with at least three plates of gourmet food provided gratis by Los Angeless finest Major League Baseball team, we ventured back outside to watch a bit of the ball game. As we picked up a giant bag of peanuts, provided to everyone who pays $600 for their seats, I thought how I’d like to give some of the women in those seats some free nuts. Actually, I’d like to give a lot of women, regardless of their seating at a game, some free nuts. I’d also like to provide them, at no charge, my version of a Dodger dog. They need only provide the buns (fuck you, I’ll make cheesy jokes if I wanna). We step aside to let Rob Reiner, director of tons of hit movies including “A Few Good Men”, “When Harry Met Sally”, and “The Bucket List” pass with his group. (He’s also an actor best known for his compelling portrayal of “Meathead” on “All In The Family”.)  As they pass us Max looks at me and says, “Oh cool, we can sit in his seats,” which we do. I’m sitting as close as you can get to home plate without being the umpire. I see Larry King, Jon Lovitz, and even have a conversation with Nick Swardson (I said celebrities, I didn’t say “hot chick celebrities”) We watched the game until the top of the ninth and, since it was apparent that the Dodgers were going to get crushed, we left. I had not only stayed for an entire baseball game, I had actually enjoyed it. The game is a lot different on a stomach full of awesome food and a seat close enough to flick boogers on players.

As we drove away from the venue I could see tons of cars trying to funnel out of the parking lot. We didn’t even have to stop for a stop sign and were on the freeway minutes later. I just started laughing. Max looked at me and smiled, “You believe me now don’t you motherfucker?”

He did explain to me that the techniques we used at that game were advanced and people should probably practice some easier ones first. He also said that faking it into fine dining was top secret, and not in the book cuz he wasn’t giving that one up yet. He explained that, although they live paycheck to paycheck, he and his girl went to over a hundred concerts and sports events last year while never paying full price for a ticket.

When I got home that night, I stayed up and read his entire book again, cover to cover, with a completely different perspective. Not only am I a believer, now I’m a player. I’ve already picked up tickets to a sold out concert that the scalpers were advertising at $250 each. I bought a pair…for $40 total.

If you wanna beat the man, get the tickets, and bang the girl (Maybe not that last part. Only I can write that book) you can check out Max Deale’s book by clicking here: Sold Out So What.

It’s totally Bad Ass.