<p>Every day it happens.
<br/>It?s inevitable and everybody knows it.
<br/>You just pray to God that it will never happen to you.
<br/>But one day, when you?re waiting in line to buy that ticket for a concert or sporting event ? or let?s say Saturday?s basketball game against USC ? it will happen and there?s not a thing you?ll be able to do about it.
<br/>You will be the one standing in front of the window when the ticket vendor steps outside waving his arms and announces three of the most heartbreaking words known to man: ?We?re sold out.?
<br/>At first, there?s shock.
<br/>?He?s joking, right?! There?s no way they?re actually sold out!? You search the faces of those in line behind you for validation but you find none.
<br/>Your shock quickly turns to anger as you realize this is not some kind of sick prank.
<br/>You say, ?all right, that?s enough. Just get back in that little box and sell me a ticket,? usually with some sort of expletives sprinkled in there.
<br/>Like a jewel thief who?s a day late, you wonder where you went wrong.
<br/>Maybe you shouldn?t have stopped at the ATM to get cash or watched SportsCenter for five minutes that morning or shampooed your hair. It doesn?t matter. Either way, you are not going to the game.<br/>My friend Matt was the victim of this exact situation on Tuesday morning. There were 100 student tickets available for Saturday?s game. He was No. 101.<br/>Words cannot describe the pain.<br/>I was about No. 125 and even I was pretty upset. (But honestly it was more because I woke up so early for nothing.)<br/>Matt is one of those people who probably will never leave California between December and March for fear of missing a home game. He bleeds Bruin blue. I?ve seen it. It?s kind of gross.<br/>If you ever want to know anything about UCLA basketball, and I mean anything, he?s the one to call. Ask him about UCLA?s recruiting class and he?ll give you their next five. Ask him how the point guard is doing in school and he?ll give you his test scores from third grade.<br/>If anyone deserves a ticket to what will probably be an upsettingly close game, it?s this guy.<br/>Denying him an $18 chance at two hours of happiness is like denying gravity to Isaac Newton.<br/>After the supreme disappointment of getting shut out at the ticket window, I pitched a proposal to Matt.<br/>I offered to go with him to USC?s shiny new Galen Center on Saturday, sit outside and cheer on a team we wouldn?t be able to see. Surprisingly, he said no.<br/>Not even a delicious breakfast bagel from Rendezvous could soothe the agony. And they are delicious.<br/>The thing is, once you are No. 101, there?s no going back. Every line you?re in from now on could be a repeat performance. Waiting in line will never be the same again.<br/>That?s why I?m always wary of cutting in line. You never know when you could be stepping in front of a former No. 101. That would be very bad.<br/>I guess that point I?m trying to get at is simple.<br/>If you were No. 100, I could sure use a ticket right about now.<br/><hr><i>Seriously, No. 100, E-mail Feder at if you want $40 for your ticket.</i></p><br><br><a href='; target='_blank'>;