In theory, it should be a sport within everyone’s reach, as the tournament organisers themselves are keen to point out. In practice, though, US Open tennis has taken a decidedly elitist turn: pay up, or stay home. Tickets for Arthur Ashe Stadium – the main venue for the tournament, which starts this Sunday and runs for the next three weeks – have never been this expensive. The cheapest way to get in, with no seat guaranteed, is around $360 this year. A seat in the nosebleeds costs $454. Then there are the more desirable spots: $1,236, $2,104, $3,786. So much for accessibility.
That major sporting events have become an irresistible draw – for the public, and for those whose job it is to monetise every last inch of them – is hardly news, particularly in the United States. The controversy over World Cup ticket prices a few weeks ago was long and bitter. At this year’s NBA Finals in New York, where prices reached record levels, Donald Trump dismissed the issue more or less like this: “If you have the money, you pay. If you don’t, you watch it on TV.” The president’s brutal frankness is perhaps preferable to the hypocrisy of the local tennis federation (USTA): “Our mission is for the premier sport-entertainment event to be a unique experience for everyone involved. And making it accessible is at the core of our organisational strategy.” One wonders what the prices would look like if it weren’t.
Official statements aside, the recent surge in US Open gate receipts comes down to a combination of factors. On one side there is relentless demand, which since the pandemic has pushed the hype – and the prices – around major sporting events towards the world of global live music. It is no coincidence that the ultimate spectacle comes where the two worlds overlap: Bad Bunny at the Super Bowl, Shakira at a World Cup final, for example. In American tennis, the dynamic has become almost impossible to contain. The list prices for this year’s tournament still look relatively modest: $65 for the cheapest seat, $241 for the middle tier, $2,333 for a courtside VIP seat. Then there is the resale market. Demand does the rest. And it is no coincidence that the sharpest increase is hitting the tickets supposedly within reach of families: on Ticketmaster, they now start at $260, up 305 per cent. For the other categories mentioned above, the increase is progressively smaller: 136 per cent and 12 per cent.
The problem is that US Open executives have found no real way to contain the phenomenon. If anything, they have added to the financial pressure on the Arthur Ashe crowd. The numbers have to work: how do you preserve the same profit margin while increasing the prize money for the players, from Sinner downwards, who have all been demanding more? Simple: get more money through the turnstiles. Hence the recent overhaul of the New York arena, a massive $800 million renovation. Total capacity – almost 24,000 spectators – has remained roughly the same, but the distribution of seats has changed radically. The cheaper loge section has been cut from 6,000 seats to 2,500. Courtside, which brings in between two and ten times as much, has almost doubled, from 2,800 to 5,000. All in the name of accessibility, of course.