Last November, I published my most controversial article to date: Why I'm not going to the Yale-Harvard game. That article is a troll, so don't bother reading it if you haven't already. I still endorse the opinion entirely -- you should be comfortable opting out of involuntary events just because you don't want to go -- but let's be real: I can't convince anyone to conquer their fear of missing out by writing an op-ed.

Back to the lottery. For those unaware, only the luckiest Yale undergrads bought tickets to The Game through official means this year. On Sept. 16, Burgwell Howard, the dean of student engagement at Yale College, sent an email to all undergraduates announcing a ticket lottery, "weighted so seniors will be automatically entered four times, juniors three times," and so on.

Howard elaborated in an email sent to the News' Sports Desk the following day. Apparently, Yale Athletics designed the lottery in response to student "feedback" from the fallout of the 2022 Yale-Harvard game. This "feedback" includes an ostensibly unilateral disdain for a lack of seniority preference across the student body, overwhelming stress induced by clicking a button and conflicts with digital ticket release times.

The fact that tickets became available early on accident in 2022 and sold out early on accident is omitted in the dean's statement. This was not overlooked by the News, whose diligent reporters reminded readers of Yale Athletics' egregious error.

Howard adds, "A lottery was deemed a more fair approach to provide folks an opportunity to be in the running to secure a ticket." Notice the lack of absolute language. "More fair" means nothing when compared to an unfair mistake. And "an opportunity to be in the running to secure" is a vague, media-trained manner of dancing around the fact that nobody, not even a senior, is guaranteed a ticket.

Lottery results were released on the morning of Oct. 21. Students not selected were placed on a waiting list for another lottery slated for early November.

Vincent Tan '25, a senior transfer student from Baruch College, was frustrated to find he was not selected. "I thought it was ridiculous considering Yale didn't have that last year," Tan said. "I also went to a volleyball game to boost my chances so I was pissed when I didn't get it."

Lurking at the end of Howard's email, underneath an "Extra Entries Opportunities" section, were up to four chances for additional lottery entries, obtained by attending a men's soccer game against Sacred Heart University at 5:00 p.m. on Saturday, Sept. 21, a field hockey game against Quinnipiac University at noon on Sunday, Sept. 29, the aforementioned volleyball game against Cornell at 7:00 p.m. on Friday, Oct. 11, and a women's soccer game against Princeton at 1:00 p.m. on Sunday, Oct. 13.

In short, whichever you prefer, take time out of your busy weekend to attend athletic events you only care about instrumentally for a small probabilistic bonus. And you still might get nothing.

Tan has never been to The Game at Harvard, let alone "Lame-bridge," and described his situation as desperate. So, to prevent any further indeterminacy, Tan found a role as a flag bearer. "My friend told me she helps with flag bearing and that it is a de facto ticket," he said. He will attend The Game free of charge but laments that he cannot be in the bleachers with his friends.

When waitlist results were announced on Nov. 8, Tan was surprised to see that he was selected. After purchasing his official ticket from the ticket office that day, he said, "I just gave it to a junior friend who didn't get one."

When the News asked why he didn't just sell it for upwards of $100 profit, Tan said, "It's outrageous." He also noted, "Backing down from commitments is not in my code of conduct."

The word "reactionary" is often thrown around indiscriminately in hubs of political discourse like Yale and Harvard, but this time it might be appropriate. Because if chronically unserious people like me get tickets, while people who enjoy football or embody Yale school spirit or have run out of opportunities to see The Game do not, something is seriously screwed up.

In the basic political sense, reactionary describes opposition to social reform or liberation. At face value, this ticket lottery might appear reform-minded; a lottery isn't inherently in the business of oppression.

But that doesn't mean a lottery is inherently in the business of fairness, either. Regardless of how probabilistically equitable it may seem, regardless of what Yale officials are trained to tell the public, the ticket lottery is financial pragmatism veiled as fairness.

There is a set number of tickets that can be sold to Yale undergraduates at a discounted price. Thus, only a certain number of tickets should be sold to Yale undergraduates to maximize ticket revenue. This number is especially low thanks to Harvard Stadium's measly 25,884 seating capacity in comparison to the Yale Bowl's 61,446. Harvard students clearly deserve priority for all the suffering they endure as the inferior rival, so that leaves the Bulldogs the short end of the stick.

Someone in either Yale Athletics or the Office of Student Engagement must have thought that maybe a price-capped auction, mail-in ticket requests or not releasing tickets prematurely would be better. While it is certainly bizarre and perhaps idiotic that a lottery was deemed the superior ticket-selling strategy, we should have faith in the intellectual capabilities of the good people involved. They are by no means at fault. Making money, as is the case with the sport of football at large, is the name of The Game. That, unfortunately, comes at the cost of school spirit.