Narrow Seats are Narrow

My wife and I have had the opportunity to attend several events recently at Colonial Life Arena and Carolina Stadium, two major sports venues in Columbia, SC, the latter being home to the back-to-back National Champion University of South Carolina baseball team (I threw that last bit in there just because). They are marvelous facilities that I'm glad we have access to as they're truly modern day pantheons equipped with everything from WiFi to a wine list. Be that as it may, there's one aspect to them that I wish was different, and it has to do with basic comfort - specifically the comfort of one's posterior as impacted by the seats in these arenas and others like them.

I've never tried to hide the fact that I'm a bigger guy - not that I could hide it if I wanted to. I'm in the area of 6'2"-6'3" and, to make a football analogy, my body type would be best described as that of an offensive lineman (albeit one who doesn't go to the gym and doesn't diet all that properly). I shop in the big & tall section. I have trouble finding shoes that fit because I wear a size 14 extra-wide and most manufacturers/retailers seem to think mens feet stop growing around size 12 (seriously, next time you're in a Rack Room Shoes or a similar store, count the number of shoes you see in size 14 or above). That said, I admit that when it comes to the physical dimensions of human beings I'm definitely an exception instead of the norm - always have been, always will be. For while I could lose weight, there's no hope of my becoming much less wide than I am right now short of having my pelvis, ribcage and internal organ placement reconfigured.

That's not an elective surgery I'll be signing up for any time soon.

There's a well-known quote attributed to famed professional wrestling commentator/talent coordinator Jim Ross that goes something like "I don't care who wins or who loses, so long as there's an ass every 18 inches I'm happy", his point being to state that the measure of success in his industry is about ticket sales more so than anything else. I'm not sure if Ross was aware of it or not when he made that comment, but he's actually quite accurate when it comes to depicting the space between rear-ends at most coliseums.

I've done extensive research on the subject (read, I Google'd "average stadium seat width") and based on my results (which are highly scientific in nature, needless to say) the typical seat width you'll find in any given arena is between 17"-20". To get an idea of what that looks like, take two pieces of ordinary copier paper and place them side-by-side. What you've got is more or less the same width and depth (14" is the norm in terms of depth) of most stadium seating. By contrast, the seat on my recliner is 23" wide and almost as deep.

The width and depth restrictions are bad but the kicker when it comes to arena seating is the "arm rests". I use quotation marks because while they are capable of serving as legitimate arm rests their true function is that of immovable barriers of butt containment and isolation. They ensure that every posterior has a more or less equal amount of inhabitable real estate for use over the course of an event. In the case of someone like myself, what they actually serve as is a vice grip - except unlike an actual vice there's no hope of adjustment, just the same level of near torturous restriction.

Does that come off as something that would be comfortable to sit in for a couple hours? Now imagine it's made from a hard material like plastic, wood or metal. To take it even further, imagine you're wedged in between two guys like me the whole time. Still want to pay your hard-earned money to go to that next big concert or sporting event?

[SIDE NOTE: I mention paying for tickets to events - I think that's a factor I can add into this discussion as it is something that definitely serves to exacerbate the issue of pain in the buns. I brought up Colonial Life Arena earlier in this entry; that building will soon serve as host to such artists as Carrie Underwood, Taylor Swift, and Justin Bieber. The face value for tickets to those concerts will set you back $63.50, $86.50, and $95, respectively. (That's not including the cost of other expenses that come along with going to an event such as parking, which runs between $10-$20.) I will admit to having paid some high ticket prices in the past (I believe I paid around $90 to see Metallica almost a decade ago - we were in the front row and I got guitar picks from James Hetfield and Kirk Hammett so it was worth it for me), but the cost of attendance has become extremely exorbitant these days, so much so that fans have started to really question whether or not it's worth it. To me, that's what's happening to NASCAR. The TV coverage is so good (even though the racing itself isn't always that exciting) and the events so expensive that people seem to have realized it's just as well that they stay home.]

As I said earlier, I'm a big guy. For the sake of this blog entry, I measured the breadth of my chest from shoulder to shoulder and it was in the area of 27". (I haven't had cause to buy a sport coat or be fitted for a similar garment in roughly 3 years, so forgive me for referencing what is certainly an accurate albeit less than precise measurement.) My hips aren't that much narrower than my shoulders. How do you put something that's 27" wide into a seat that's 17" wide? You can take my word that it's not an easy task as different seats require different derriere depositing methods. With some stadium seats brute force works best; gravity will only drag things down so far, you see. These are generally the seats that I loathe the most as they're usually the ones that leave my tush quite sore, sometimes to the point of leaving bruises. (I've had bruising on my knees from spending hours shoved into a row of seats as well - the curvature of the seat backs combined with the narrow gap between rows only adds to my already high level of discomfort.) Other seats I've found can best be accessed by first sitting down on the edge of the seat then sliding back into the bucket. It takes some trial and error but fortunately I've yet to find a seat that I absolutely cannot get into.

[SIDE NOTE #2: I take that last statement back - I have found seats I can't get into, but not stadium seats.

When my wife & I went to the Magic Kingdom last November I was quite bummed that my ability to ride a lot of the attractions in those theme parks was limited. Oddly enough, the issue wasn't seat width or depth rather it was the length of my legs that inhibited the restraints from being fully engaged. The first time this happened to me was on Space Mountain; I'd gotten into the car and when the lap bar dropped it hit my knees. I tried to get my legs into a position that would allow me to ride but that effort was to no avail.

I'm assuming this has become a recurring problem for ride operators to have to deal with. We noticed at Universal Studios that there are test seats outside many of the attractions so that patrons can see if they'll be able to fit into the cars prior to boarding. I'm sure there's a joke to be made here about this being unnecessary except for the fact that people nowadays are fatter than ever. Even so, if this is a known trend amongst the masses (pun intended) then why not just make the cars bigger?]

The scenario I painted in a previous paragraph of a person being unwittingly wedged in between two men similar to myself is one that my poor wife has had to endure a number of times. She's a trooper, though, and finds ways to get through those occasions, sometimes with a bit of ingenuity. (Typically I'll throw an arm around her as this takes away a bit of my width and gives us both more comfort, even though it usually winds up with me having to watch where my hand winds up - some people don't like it when a dude they've never met touches them on the shoulder or knee oddly enough.) She and a fellow female attendee to a Ring of Honor pro wrestling card in Charlotte, NC we went to devised a method for improving the comfort level for quite a few people at said event. The show was held in a building that wasn't much more than a warehouse with folding chairs set up for seating. For the sake of security, wrestling fans being the lively sort that we are, the chairs had all been zip-tied together. The other female fan realized that she could remedy the situation by snipping the zip-ties with a pair of fingernail clippers; suddenly we went from being packed into our row like sardines in a can to sitting sprawled out and as comfortable as could be.

[SIDE NOTE #3: While writing of the story about modifying ROH's seating I was reminded of another situation that happened at a different ROH event, one that I hesitate to share because of the individual it involves but that I'm going to put out there anyway.

ROH made use of the same zip-tied chairs for this event, and we'd planned accordingly by bringing fingernail clippers. We adjusted the seats to give ourselves more room but there was one fan whose physical condition necessitated having even more room than I. I don't want it to sound like I'm making fun of him but he was morbidly obese, probably 500 lbs. if not more. He had separated his chair and moved it to a position that put him almost in line with us, which also meant that he gave himself a free upgrade seeing as how he went from having a seat in the general admission section to one that was worth significantly more than those. My wife wasn't thrilled with his presence for another reason; he had what sounded like a couple dollars worth of quarters in his pocket and jingled them incessantly, and this was getting on her nerves.

I haven't pointed it out until now but the folding chairs ROH used were the kind that have metal legs and plastic panels. They tend to feel flimsy to me, and now you know where I'm going with this story...

Towards the end of the show, this guy's chair gave up its will to live and collapsed under his weight. He hit the floor to a raucous calamity, his stash of quarters went rolling away in mass exodus, and he laid there on the ground with an expression on his face as if he were in shock. He eventually got up after being assisted by myself and a few others, gathered his quarters, fetched himself another chair, and returned to the same spot he'd been occupying previously as if nothing had ever happened.]

Unfortunately, you'd need a much more heavy duty piece of equipment than a pair of fingernail clippers to make the kind of arena seating we've been encountering more comfortable, and something even more powerful than a backhoe to get those who are in the business of building, operating and maintaining these facilities to even consider using seats wider than they are now. The point of any business is to make money, after all - in their case the more seats in a venue, the more money there is to be made from putting butts into them. Even butts like mine. So it is that the decision becomes either avoiding events because of issues like these or going to them regardless for the love of the thing.

I guess dealing with a couple sore cheeks isn't so bad every now and then.