Ollie Burke

I paid £93 for a single Category 5 seat in Section 507, Row 21 at the Tottenham Hotspur Stadium on October 8th, 2023, to watch the Jacksonville Jaguars play their second consecutive game in London against the Buffalo Bills. Fast-forward two years, and now that same seat is worth a staggering £195, a 107% price increase. This is criminal.

My fascination with the National Football League began when a good friend persuaded me to watch the Baltimore Ravens’ dramatic postseason run in 2012. The trademark Joe Flacco deep ball, the iconic Jacoby Jones 108-yard touchdown return, and the formidable Ray Lewis, the league’s most feared defensive player, thumping quarterbacks, tight ends, and wide receivers alike, captivated me. The team had it all but hadn’t quite won my heart.

The following year, I was still very much intrigued by the sport and was invited to attend my first-ever live NFL game. I watched the Minnesota Vikings face up against the Pittsburgh Steelers at Wembley Stadium as part of the NFL International Series. The league has prioritised expanding the game globally since the first International Series game in 2007 between the Miami Dolphins and the New York Giants. There are now five sub-series, featuring seven total games across Brazil, Ireland, England, Germany, and Spain, with Australia joining the mix in 2026.

The day was one to remember. London was buzzing with excitement, a vibrant sea of jerseys from all 32 teams stretching as far as the eye could see. It was a stark contrast to the usual football tribalism I was used to; this was a day of celebration, not rivalry.

As I entered Niketown on Oxford Street, I was taken aback by the sheer scale of the NFL-themed merchandise that covered the entire first floor. A DJ thumped in the centre of the store, creating a carnival atmosphere, and NFL representatives strolled confidently in pads and helmets, offering pictures to eager fans.

I couldn’t resist the temptation and wishfully picked my side for the day. I copped myself an Adrian Peterson jersey, the star running back for the Minnesota Vikings, and perhaps the best in the league at the time.

As we approached the stadium, the party atmosphere reached its peak. The enticing aroma of pulled pork tacos, Philly cheesesteaks, and beer-braised bratwursts filled the air. Cheerleaders whipped up the crowds with their gold pom-poms, team flags proudly fluttered side by side, and countless NFL-themed activities captivated both adults and children. It was an experience unlike any other. This wasn’t just any day of celebration for the NFL in London; it was the culmination of a week-long event. Banners adorned Regent Street in central London, preparing for the thousands of fans to march with the fan rally. Trafalgar Square served as the stage for numerous interviews with legends, current players, and coaches, giving fans a rare chance to get up close and personal with their idols. The arrival of the NFL would grind central London to a halt.

I still have my physical paper ticket and programme, which hold precious memories. My seat, located in one of the upper sections around the halfway line, cost a mere £45 in today’s money. Despite its low price, the view was incomprehensible. Each seat was decorated with the home team’s flag, which most of the 83,518 in attendance waved persistently during Tinie Tempah’s five-minute medley pre-kickoff. A brief moment of silence fell upon the stadium as the American and British national anthems were played before boxer David Haye blew the Gjallarhorn, which erupted the crowd. Game time!

On paper, two winless teams battling for their first win of the season might seem unremarkable, but from start to finish, it was an absolute thriller. With 61 total points scored, seven touchdowns, and a nail-biting finish, it was a game I’ll never forget. However, if I could pinpoint the exact moment I fell in love with the sport, it was when Adrian Peterson shrugged off multiple tacklers and exploded for a 60-yard touchdown. The roar of the crowd, the intensity of the moment. That electrifying feeling will forever be etched in my memory. As Pittsburgh teetered on the edge of scoring a touchdown that would send the game to overtime, the Vikings’ defence sacked Ben Roethlisberger, causing the quarterback to cough up the ball. Minnesota capitalised on the turnover and secured the victory. From that moment, I was hooked, and they had won my heart.

Since attending that game, I’ve been fortunate enough to experience four more NFL International Series games in the UK. In 2017, I paid £45 to sit in the very top corner of Twickenham Stadium to witness the Vikings defeat the Cleveland Browns 33–16. In 2022, I spent £77 on a Cat 6 upper-tier seat at Tottenham Hotspur Stadium, in line with the endzone, to see the Vikings beat the New Orleans Saints after THAT double doink field goal attempt. In 2023, I forked out £93 on a Cat 5 upper-tier seat at Tottenham Hotspur Stadium, positioned around the 20-yard line, to see the Jaguars secure a surprise 25–20 victory over the Buffalo Bills. Finally, in 2024, I splurged £100 for an upper-tier ticket at Wembley Stadium, also positioned at the 20-yard line, to watch the Jacksonville Jaguars defeat a woefully poor New England Patriots team 32–16.

This is just my experience, but the price hike is evident for all to see. How can the league expect to grow the game globally when they’re pricing out the ordinary fan? It’s abundantly clear that the extreme price increase is affecting this year’s sales — all three London games still have hundreds and thousands of tickets available a week after release. Unfortunately, I still expect the NFL to sell out these games, but if this isn’t a sign that the game is out of control, then I don’t know what is. Not only are casual fans completely put off, but hardcore fans of travelling teams can’t justify hundreds and thousands of pounds spent on overpriced travel, overpriced food, overpriced hotels, and now severely overpriced tickets.

Excitement coursed through my veins as I entered the waiting room, eager to see my beloved Minnesota Vikings at Tottenham Hotspur Stadium again this year. However, my hopes were dashed when the queue opened, revealing my position at 127,366. After two minutes, the queue was paused for an astonishing three hours to remove suspicious accounts, fair enough. Finally, the queue resumed, and when I eventually reached the booking page, I was shocked to see that tickets were £180 for an upper-tier seat on the very back row—my dream of seeing the Vikings had well and truly been squashed.

Tottenham Hotspur Stadium has added two extra seating categories for the 2025 ticket sales, but this is just a ploy to make it seem like the lowest-priced tickets are keeping pace with inflation (which is already absurd). In reality, the cheapest category now has fewer tickets, and large sections of the stadium have been upgraded to a higher-priced category. This, coupled with the removal of season tickets, has been the final straw for many fans.

The magic of the event has sadly been lost. Fan rallies on Regent Street, Trafalgar Square and Piccadilly Circus are gone, as are NFL-themed activities and games around Wembley Stadium and Tottenham Hotspur Stadium. Physical memories, like flags on seats or paper tickets, are no longer available. Instead, you’re forced to head to the stadium, where you’ll find hour-long queues to access a few street food stalls and an exorbitant merchandise shop.

This is greed at its finest and is likely going to be a worrying trend for the upcoming Berlin and Dublin ticket releases. From Ticketmaster to the NFL, they must be held accountable for their actions. This cannot continue.