The Large One
Who's Next?
As the weather cleared for yesterday's game, I took the decision to go to the Twenty/20 match.
I went on to the website to order tickets to pick up at the gate. When you go on to the website, you don't order, you have to phone. So I phoned. Eventually, I spoke to someone in the ticket office who said I couldn't reserve tickets on the phone, so I asked if I could pay with a credit card over the phone. She said that I could not. She also pointed out that there weren't that many tickets left for the game.
So I thought I'd just have to swallow the extra fiver cost in order to get in. (It's £15 in advance, £20 on the gate). I get to the gate and ask the bloke in the blazer on the door for a ticket. 'Oooh, there's not that many left...' I told him only wanted one. 'Well, if you're sure. The thing is, the tickets aren't here on the gate, they're in the office.' So I started walking to the office to go and buy one. 'Ooh, I can't let you in, Sir, you need a ticket to get in...'
I told him I was going to the office to go and buy one. So the bloke in the blazer on the door called out to a steward. 'Bill, this fella wants to buy a ticket.' 'There's not many left', he replied. I only want ONE. 'OK, Sir, I'll escort you to the ticket office.' So, I get to the ticket office, and I'm just starting to get the hump. At the office door, there is a security woman - you know, hired muscle, black bomber jacket, arse the size of Bournemouth, face that looks like it's been on fire and put out with a thorn bush.
'The tickets are £25.' she told me, as if I'd ever asked her. I ignored her and went to the woman at the desk. 'Are there any ticket left for tonight's game?' 'Yes, but they're £25.' 'How come? It says on the website that it's £15 in advance or £20 on the door. How come it's now £25?' 'Oh, they're tickets for the North Stand.'
'So where does it say anywhere that they're £25? It doesn't on the website, and no-one told me when I phoned earlier. In fact, it was confirmed that it was £20 on the door.' I was getting a tad cheesed off by then. 'Yes, but these tickets are for the seats.' 'What, seats in the public area...?' 'Yes they are.' 'And they're now £25...?' 'Yes, they are...'
I saw it was pointless arguing, so I simply said, 'do you know what, I don't think I'm going to bother...' So I turned round and went out, only to be told be this pig of a woman on the door 'see, I told you it was £25...' as if her opinion - sorry, her repugnant attitude - was really important to me.
As I was leaving, I thought about turning round and biting my tongue in order to think 'sod it, I'm here. I might as well buy the sodding ticket and pay the extra.' Just as I did turn round, the black-jacketed walrus who had followed me out about five feet behind me screeched out at the top of her voice 'You have to go now. LEAVE THE GROUND. GET OUT...' which was extremely embarrassing for me. The best I could come up with, trying to retain some dignity was 'if you're going to talk to me, do it with a civil tongue in your head.' I could have been wittier I suppose.
All in all, it kind of f***ed up my evening. Not only could I not buy tickets on the day, over the phone or the internet, they made it hard to buy them on the door, then they whacked on an extra unannounced fiver (unless I have missed something obvious), and then the security bitch behaved like a arsehole.
Ever since Gus Mackay took over the role of Chief Executive, and since he fired the previous Press Officer, the place has gone form being a relatively progressive, customer-friendly county cricket club to a bloody circus. Every single time I have written to anyone at the County Ground I get no reply at all.
I love watching Sussex, and I love supporting them, but it is going to be bloody hard work to do that all the while they treat you like shit, which was how I felt last night.
I went on to the website to order tickets to pick up at the gate. When you go on to the website, you don't order, you have to phone. So I phoned. Eventually, I spoke to someone in the ticket office who said I couldn't reserve tickets on the phone, so I asked if I could pay with a credit card over the phone. She said that I could not. She also pointed out that there weren't that many tickets left for the game.
So I thought I'd just have to swallow the extra fiver cost in order to get in. (It's £15 in advance, £20 on the gate). I get to the gate and ask the bloke in the blazer on the door for a ticket. 'Oooh, there's not that many left...' I told him only wanted one. 'Well, if you're sure. The thing is, the tickets aren't here on the gate, they're in the office.' So I started walking to the office to go and buy one. 'Ooh, I can't let you in, Sir, you need a ticket to get in...'
I told him I was going to the office to go and buy one. So the bloke in the blazer on the door called out to a steward. 'Bill, this fella wants to buy a ticket.' 'There's not many left', he replied. I only want ONE. 'OK, Sir, I'll escort you to the ticket office.' So, I get to the ticket office, and I'm just starting to get the hump. At the office door, there is a security woman - you know, hired muscle, black bomber jacket, arse the size of Bournemouth, face that looks like it's been on fire and put out with a thorn bush.
'The tickets are £25.' she told me, as if I'd ever asked her. I ignored her and went to the woman at the desk. 'Are there any ticket left for tonight's game?' 'Yes, but they're £25.' 'How come? It says on the website that it's £15 in advance or £20 on the door. How come it's now £25?' 'Oh, they're tickets for the North Stand.'
'So where does it say anywhere that they're £25? It doesn't on the website, and no-one told me when I phoned earlier. In fact, it was confirmed that it was £20 on the door.' I was getting a tad cheesed off by then. 'Yes, but these tickets are for the seats.' 'What, seats in the public area...?' 'Yes they are.' 'And they're now £25...?' 'Yes, they are...'
I saw it was pointless arguing, so I simply said, 'do you know what, I don't think I'm going to bother...' So I turned round and went out, only to be told be this pig of a woman on the door 'see, I told you it was £25...' as if her opinion - sorry, her repugnant attitude - was really important to me.
As I was leaving, I thought about turning round and biting my tongue in order to think 'sod it, I'm here. I might as well buy the sodding ticket and pay the extra.' Just as I did turn round, the black-jacketed walrus who had followed me out about five feet behind me screeched out at the top of her voice 'You have to go now. LEAVE THE GROUND. GET OUT...' which was extremely embarrassing for me. The best I could come up with, trying to retain some dignity was 'if you're going to talk to me, do it with a civil tongue in your head.' I could have been wittier I suppose.
All in all, it kind of f***ed up my evening. Not only could I not buy tickets on the day, over the phone or the internet, they made it hard to buy them on the door, then they whacked on an extra unannounced fiver (unless I have missed something obvious), and then the security bitch behaved like a arsehole.
Ever since Gus Mackay took over the role of Chief Executive, and since he fired the previous Press Officer, the place has gone form being a relatively progressive, customer-friendly county cricket club to a bloody circus. Every single time I have written to anyone at the County Ground I get no reply at all.
I love watching Sussex, and I love supporting them, but it is going to be bloody hard work to do that all the while they treat you like shit, which was how I felt last night.