Tickets for this summer’s soccer World Cup are the most expensive in the tournament’s history. Or the history of any sporting event for that matter, with the possible exception of one-off extravaganzas like the Mayweather-Pacquiao showdown in 2015. The face value of tickets at this American tournament are a staggering five times higher that of the previous World Cup in Qatar. The most expensive seats for the final match have reached wallet-busting levels, affordable only to plutocrats and corporate boondogglers.

And that’s just face value. What about the quaintly named secondary market? I occasionally peruse Fifa’s resale site, where the custodians of the game double dip from the buyer and seller to act as an official tout. I check the Fifa marketplace not as a prospective purchaser, but from an anthropological standpoint, mesmerized by the insatiable human greed on display. We really have left the Earth’s orbit and are in Artemis 2 levels of stratospheric pricing here. One ticket for the Final was listed at $250,000. It’s almost enough to make one a Mamdani supporter.

Many people have washed their hands of the whole idea of attending, and the ill-will it has generated is considerable. This must be the first time in history where the manager of a competing team (the frugal Steve Clarke of Scotland) has told supporters to stay home and watch the games on TV.

All of this makes me nostalgic for past World Cups (I’ve attended two, in 1998 and 2002). Prices were fixed and reasonable – $30 to $50 for first round games in France – and the whole touting business was spontaneous, face-to-face, fan-to-fan and almost fun. I achieved the Holy Grail outside the Tokyo International Forum in 2002: a ticket for the final, purchased from a........

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