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Two tickets, but a family of six
By MARCUS FRANKLIN
Ruia and Joe Gonzalez have four children. The problem is the Tampa couple have only two tickets to Sunday's playoff game between the Buccaneers and the San Francisco 49ers at Raymond James Stadium. Initially, Mom and Dad planned to go. Then Dad decided to take oldest son Matthew, 21. Mom didn't care. Daughter Jane Marie, 20, is off to Davidson College in North Carolina on Saturday so she's not in competition, and her 17-year-old brother Jeffrey is counting on his girlfriend's father to come through with a ticket. This leaves Joseph, one very unhappy, pouty 12-year-old. The sixth-grader has been pleading to sit in one of his family's two seats on the 25-yard line. Uncharacteristically, he has offered to do extra chores such as clearing dishes in exchange for the seat. "It's not fair," Joseph says. "I want to go to a playoff game. I think it'll be fun and crazy. Everybody else gets to go more, I guess 'cause they're bigger." Joseph is merely one of thousands of feverish football fans eager to get their hands on the most coveted ticket in town. Shortages of tickets -- which are being hawked in the classifieds for as much as $600 for an $86 ticket -- have sparked small-time rancor and discord among relatives, co-workers and friends. Consider Gerry Howe and his six playoff tickets. Just five years ago, the 54-year-old St. Petersburg resident couldn't give away Bucs tickets. He often would sit in the stadium with unused tickets stuffed in his pockets. Now he has people at church, of all places, asking him about his tickets, which he buys annually from his elderly father-in-law. "The intro from everybody is the same: "I'll bet you everybody is trying to hit you up for the same thing.' I'm sure they're the ones who want the tickets, wondering if I have one for them, but I always go, "Yeah, but they're spoken for.' " Howe is taking his daughter, Kathleen, 15, a friend, and another friend and his son. One of the men he's taking recently called Howe to ask if he could have the remaining ticket. Some people. Howe had words for him. "I told him "Blood is a little thicker than water.' " Howe gave the last seat to his cousin from Georgia, a close childhood friend. "This is a really great time," said Howe, who works in real estate and property management. "It is just phenomenal what winning can do to a community." While Howe and the Gonzalezes have had to ponder who the delegates for Sunday's game will be, others don't share that dilemma. Tim Young, 36, will allow only those with a passion for the Bucs as intense as his to use one of his 10 playoff tickets. But such passion is hard to find. Get this: Young and his wife, Christina, 30, a sales manager for Kodak, spend roughly $10,000 a season traveling to Tampa to attend Bucs games. Last April, Young, a former Palm Harbor resident, moved to Alpharetta, Ga., a suburb north of Atlanta, for his job. He's a sales representative for a hardware manufacturer that sells to Home Depot. But he didn't give up his Bucs. Sometimes it's a 457-mile airplane trip to Tampa. Other times they travel in their pewter GMC Yukon, with a customized 4- by 8-foot Bucs cargo trailer in tow. For regular season games, the couple have four season tickets as well as access to two suites belonging to football-loving friends. When they tailgate, the Youngs come equipped with face paint, hair coloring, removable tattoos, cooking grills, brews, liquor, tents, Zantac, NFL music and cannons. They attend many away games as well, missing only three or four a season. They spent part of their eighth wedding anniversary in the mountains in Asheville, N.C., the other part 128 miles away in Ericsson Stadium. "If I didn't go to games, then I'm not sure I'd see him," Christina said. "Anywhere within eight hours, we go," said Tim, who will be honored as this year's Bucs Ultimate Fan in the Visa Hall of Fame, a wing of the Pro Football Hall of Fame in Canton, Ohio. So it makes sense that Young would hand playoff tickets only to fellow tailgaters who share his enthusiasm and loyalty, the same kind that gush from Joseph Gonzalez, the Tampa boy who spent much of Wednesday trying to persuade his father to give him a ticket. Thursday morning over cereal, the decision was made. Joseph had reasoned that he should go because he had attended the same number of games as his big brother Matthew, a junior at Florida State University. Also, he reasoned, his father had the privilege of attending last year's Super Bowl. "Do you love me or not?" Joseph asked his father at breakfast. "I love you no matter what," his father replied. Joseph asked his father again. Joe Gonzalez said: "I'm going to let you have the ticket.' So it'll be Joseph and Matthew, who is traveling to Tampa this week, in the stands Sunday. "I was reluctant," said Joe Gonzalez, an attorney. "I kept weighing. My criteria was: Who really wanted to go more badly? I concluded the boys really wanted to go more. (Joseph's) eagerness and enthusiasm swayed me. He was ecstatic. "I can be comfortable in front of a TV." But the ticket might come with a price. Joseph's mother said he could become more familiar with the workings of a dishwasher.
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