The Brief

Last October, I had a decision to make. Did I want to spend around $775 on World Cup tickets? For the first time since 1994, the men's World Cup is being held in the U.S., as well as in Mexico and Canada. I had just hours to decide.

At this point, I also began to question the economic logic of FIFA's approach to World Cup tickets. Was FIFA, as soccer's governing body and the guardian of the beautiful game, bungling the ticket sales?

For millions of soccer fans, buying World Cup tickets has been an ordeal. My friends and I had signed up for updates from soccer's governing body, FIFA, and their emails about how to buy tickets felt a bit like receiving the fine print of an insurance policy in monthly digests.

First there was a presale—but it was sponsored by Visa and only for people with Visa cards, and it was a lottery. Winning the lottery didn't get you a ticket, though. You won the chance to buy a ticket. If you missed the presale, more lotteries followed. Winning one earned you the right to buy tickets. Another involved submitting an application for certain types of matches and then having your credit card charged automatically (how much exactly?) if you won and if your application was accepted. (Accepted?)

You could just browse and buy tickets on the FIFA website, but only expensive "hospitality packages" that included VIP perks. Or you could buy "special digital assets" (NFTs? really?) that resembled trading cards and could potentially earn you the right to buy tickets to certain matches.

I had won one of the first lotteries. Huzzah! I could buy tickets. But tickets weren't cheap. A package of three matches for $775 was among the cheapest I saw, and not for Team USA or elite matchups like Brazil vs Morocco. If buying a ticket to a single group-stage game was an option, I didn't see it. Plus I had to coordinate with friends and look up the cost of flights and hotels in cities hosting matches—all before an imminent deadline. I decided not to buy myself a ticket.

The best moments of World Cup soccer bring joy to millions. But for most fans not wealthy enough to buy VIP ticket packages, catching a glimpse in-person required navigating a complicated and convoluted system just for the chance to pay high prices.

Still, I have some sympathy for the challenge FIFA faced. And if I squint, their system almost resembles a smart and fair approach to ticket sales.

That's because I've spent the past two years writing a book about how economic thinking can improve our lives. (It's called Planet Money: A Guide To The Economic Forces That Shape Your Life. You can order it now!) During that time, I talked to economists about when high prices mean that something has gone wrong (perhaps due to a monopoly) vs when high prices are a smart method for allocating scarce resources. And about cases when prices alone fail to achieve fair or efficient outcomes.

Based on these conversations, I suspect that me staying home is a good outcome for society. I could have afforded the World Cup tickets, but I'm a bandwagon fan. So the high price nudged me toward instead spending my time and money on something I'd enjoy more. That's good!

But selling tickets to unique, uber-popular events like the World Cup is a profound economic challenge—it's one of those exceptions to the otherwise incredible ability of prices to coordinate economic activity.

World Cup tickets are incredibly popular and in short supply, so they should be expensive. But World Cup tickets shouldn't just be for rich people, so they should be affordable. How do you square that circle?

We at Planet Money have a modest proposal: FIFA should learn from other organizations that have faced this dilemma and triumphed. Among others, the team behind Hamilton the musical, the National Park system, and the NYC Marathon have developed clever ways to fairly distribute tickets, hiking permits, and marathon bibs despite overwhelming demand.

The case for high prices

What would have happened if FIFA sold every World Cup ticket for just $20?

In some ways, this would be more "fair" and pro-fan. But low prices can backfire. Instead of tickets going to true fans, they'd get scooped up by resellers—or by bots and whoever happens to have enough schedule flexibility to buy tickets the second that sales start.

Plus, if tickets were only $20, some people with only mild interest in soccer would buy tickets. You could end up with empty seats at a Brazil–Argentina match because they saw rain in the forecast and skipped the game.

Alternatively, FIFA could sell every ticket for $20, but only to superfans. But how do you identify the superfans? Or the working-class octogenarian whose last wish is to see a World Cup game?

Do you make everyone write a personal essay? Ask people to rate their obsession with soccer from 1 to 10—and hope they don't lie?

Figuring out who most values World Cup tickets, or any scarce resource, is a hard problem, and high prices are often an elegant solution. Want World Cup tickets? Then prove how much you value them by paying the high ticket price.

This system works perfectly if everyone has the same amount of money. And it works well for goods that can be mass produced, like smartphones, or that only some people need or want, like Pokemon cards or Aspirin. But we live in a world where mildly interested millionaires can pay more for World Cup tickets than working-class families that live for soccer. That's probably why FIFA announced in December that it would sell some additional tickets for just $60—a move likely prompted by complaints from soccer fans.

So what should FIFA do instead?

A masterclass in fairness 

FIFA could learn from another huge sporting event that we at Planet Money consider a master class in fairness: the New York City Marathon.

Watching the Marathon is free, but more people want to run than the course can accommodate. So New York Road Runners, the nonprofit that organizes the Marathon, has to sell or allocate spots.

In fact, NYRR faces a similar mismatch of supply and demand. In December, FIFA announced that demand for World Cup tickets—in terms of the number of people entering its drawings—outstripped supply 30 to 1. In 2025, meanwhile, NYRR reported that around 200,000 hopeful runners entered a drawing for ~6,000 spots. That's also a ratio of around 30 to 1!

NYRR could simply charge high prices and maximize their profits. But it's a nonprofit that relies on the goodwill of New Yorkers—the race shuts down dozens of busy streets across all five boroughs of New York.

The same is true of FIFA. It is, officially, a nonprofit—a FIFA spokesperson stressed to us that "the revenue FIFA generates from the World Cup is reinvested to fuel the growth of the game (men, women, youth)." And FIFA relies on the goodwill of the host country or countries, which shoulder the cost of building soccer stadiums and endure extra noise and traffic.

So what's a fair way to decide who should get to run the NYC Marathon? (Or attend the World Cup?) Fairness is subjective and debatable. But the genius of the NYC Marathon is that NYRR's system uses four main methods to allocate spots, each of which optimizes for a different form of fairness:

1. Luck. As the marathon's popularity grew, the first tool NYRR reached for was a lottery, or random drawing. Aspiring marathoners mailed in a postcard with their name on it, and staff picked lucky winners who got to run 26.2 miles. Eventually an online form replaced the postcards. It's brute-force fairness: straightforward and perfectly egalitarian.
   
2. Merit. If NYRR distributed every spot by luck of the draw, the Marathon would not be an elite athletic event. That's why NYRR directly invites elite runners and Olympic-level marathoners to participate, and nonprofessionals can earn a spot by running another marathon or half-marathon extremely fast. (Qualifying times vary by age and gender.)
   
3. Prices. NYRR effectively allocates some spots through high prices. If you spend $5,000 or $10,000 a year for a charitable NYRR membership, rather than the standard $60, you're guaranteed a Marathon bib. Or international runners can buy marathon packages that include a bib, hotel stay, and flights. (NYRR gives spots to tour operators to attract more international runners, support the city's economy, and expand the Marathon's TV audience.)
   
4. Effort. Another approach to fair allocation is to give marathon spots to people who value them highly, but measured in ways other than money. NYRR has developed a clever metric: People prove their enthusiasm by running nine of NYRR's qualifying local races and volunteering at another. They effectively pay in time and effort for a Marathon spot. This 9+1 program helps local New Yorkers qualify and filters out wealthy people who have minimal free time—or can spend their free time on expensive diversions—all while helping new runners train and stay motivated. Or runners can earn a spot by fundraising for pre-approved charities.

The NYC Marathon offers a smattering of other ways to earn a spot. But most race bibs are allocated through these methods. Each method has ways they feel fair and unfair. Each method has flaws and leaves people out. Taken together, though, they give just about everyone a shot at running the Marathon.

With this framework in mind, you can spot organizations around the world allocating extremely popular tickets and permits using a portfolio of fair methods. Yosemite National Park, which only allows 300 hikers per day up to the summit of Half Dome, distributes permits via one main lottery and smaller, daily lotteries (that favor locals). Many popular musicians offer discounted tickets to their followers during presales. The team behind Hamilton generated plenty of revenue by selling expensive tickets, but also ran lotteries for $10 tickets and partnered with local public schools so students could see $10 matinees.

Scoring FIFA

Tickets to the World Cup are frustratingly expensive, and the system for buying FIFA's mostly expensive tickets is complicated and exasperating. But there's some method there. With the NYC Marathon's example in mind, we can see FIFA using allocation methods that map to the four kinds of fairness:

1. Luck. FIFA's random drawings allow them to sell tickets for less than the market-clearing price, but give everyone (or everyone with a Visa card, in the case of the presale) an equal shot at buying tickets that cost less than ticket reseller prices.
   
2. Merit. FIFA gives 16% of each match's tickets to the competing country's Member Associations. That way, the Canadian Soccer Association or Egyptian Football Association can come up with an application process or criteria to reward loyal fans with tickets. According to FIFA, 50% of the tickets sold by Member Associations are in the "most affordable range," although only 10% are those budget, $60 tickets.
   
3. Prices. FIFA's "hospitality packages" that cost thousands of dollars and include VIP perks allow people to claim a ticket via high prices. And the far-from-inexpensive prices for lottery winners mean prices still play an allocation role in the random drawings.
   
4. Effort. If I interpret FIFA's digital collectibles program generously, I can see an attempt to allow fans to get access to tickets through the effort of figuring out the rules and collecting the right cards. A less generous interpretation is that it was a cash grab. Last year, The Athletic reported that FIFA made more than $10 million from the collectibles before ticket sales had even started, and collectors at best won the right to buy tickets at prices that had not yet been announced.

That said, FIFA could make its World Cup ticket sales much simpler. Complexity itself is a way to restrict access, and if not done with intention, it usually rewards those with more resources and time to navigate it. So why not have just one lottery? Or at least not have an extra lottery just for people with Visa cards?

And FIFA could make its ticket sales more fair in multiple senses.

FIFA's random drawings introduce some fairness via luck, but since most winners still have to pay hundreds of dollars, it's far from the shining example of Hamilton's $10 lottery tickets. When we asked FIFA about $10 lottery tickets and fan criticism of FIFA's high prices, they pointed to their $60 tickets, and also said, tellingly, "The pricing model adopted for FIFA World Cup 2026 reflects the existing market practice for major entertainment and sporting events within our hosts on a daily basis."

FIFA could also offer would-be attendees a real path to earning tickets through effort. FIFA's digital collectibles involve effort, but fans had to buy them just to pay again for a ticket. It was not a way to pay in time (instead of money) in exchange for discounted tickets.

The genius of NYRR's 9+1 and fundraising programs is that marathoners pay for a spot with effort and time. But unlike standing in line or filling out tons of paperwork—which economists call "ordeals," because they filter people out by forcing them to waste their time—the marathoners do useful things: train for the big race or raise money for charity.

For FIFA, a comparable approach could be partnering with host countries' schools and soccer clubs, especially in low-income neighborhoods, to offer discount tickets to students who never miss a practice. Or rewarding fans who contribute to the growth of the game by coaching youth soccer or supporting women's soccer clubs in countries where the women's game is underfunded.

World Cup tickets are wildly popular, and there are only so many seats and matches. Not everyone will be able to see a World Cup match. Any approach to ticket sales, no matter how well-designed, will leave some fans disappointed.

But the incredible popularity of the tournament and people's passion for soccer and its stars mean FIFA could choose to model fairness and thoughtfulness, too.

The story of how the NYC Marathon became a masterclass in fairness comes straight from our new book: Planet Money: A Guide To The Economic Forces That Shape Your Life. Each chapter asks questions like: What's the deal with credit card points? Or: Why does my bank seem so eager to give me free stuff? And the book is filled with illuminating stories, like the time the president of Argentina tried to use tariffs to boost manufacturing—and force BlackBerry to manufacture smartphones on a remote island near Antarctica.

The Planet Money book comes out on April 7. You can pre-order it now and get a free poster. Or join us in April at any of our live events across the country. We've got a free tote bag to go with event ticket purchases while supplies last. Find tickets and details at planetmoneybook.com
Copyright 2026 NPR

Warm temperatures are on tap again today as we head into a toasty weekend with temps set to reach the triple digits in desert communities.

L.A. County beaches will see daytime highs from 67 to 72 degrees. It'll be between 69 and 76 degrees along the Orange County coast. More inland areas like downtown L.A., Hollywood and Anaheim will see temperatures from 75 to 81 degrees.

Meanwhile, the valleys will see varying temperatures. Areas closer to the coast will see highs from 78 to 83 degrees, and further inland, temps will stay in the upper 80s, up to 89 degrees.

Meanwhile in Coachella Valley, temperatures will rise to 101 to 106 degrees.

Looking ahead to the weekend, the valleys will reach the 90s for Mother's Day, up to 100 degrees in the Antelope Valley too. Come Sunday, an Extreme Heat Warning kicks in for the Coachella Valley, where temperatures will stay in the low 100s, with up to 109 degrees possible. Make sure to stay hydrated!

Jessica Wang has experienced delay after delay for nearly two years as she tried to open Gu Grocery in Chinatown. Her father, a contractor, had told her it would take nine months.

Instead, she says, there have been issues with city permits, inspectors, inaccurate information, illness and wayward appliance installers which have pushed things back.

The community didn't take nearly as long. In two weeks, 134 donors contributed nearly $12,000 to keep Wang afloat. But money can't solve her problem — she still needs the city's approval to open the doors.

Wang signed the lease at the end of 2023, envisioning a Chinese-Taiwanese grocery store and community hub where seniors could use EBT to buy fresh tofu, where kids from nearby elementary schools could stop by after class, and where her mother, Peggy, could teach neighbors how to make their grandmother's pickles.

Now, more than two years into a five-year lease, and nearly out of money after paying for permits, buildout, and rent on a space she can't operate, Wang launched a GoFundMe campaign a few weeks ago. The response showed the community believes in Gu Grocery and wants to see it succeed. But she's still waiting for at least seven final inspections by the city before she can open.

The story of Gu

The name "Gu" carries layered meaning: the character 菇 means "mushroom" in Chinese, a traditional symbol of prosperity, while the sound "gu" also means "auntie" in Mandarin — honoring intergenerational caretakers. Wang's mission for the space is to provide a place to purchase Chinese-Taiwanese pantry staples and prepared foods, and to host community workshops.

The communal aspect is central to Wang's vision of social entrepreneurship, not solely focused on profit. In addition to workshops, Gu Grocery plans to accept EBT and offer senior discounts for those on fixed incomes.

"I wanted a space where I could share knowledge and share culture and also just learn from the community," Wang said.

Ultimately, she hopes to convert the store into a worker-owned co-op.

Wang grew up in the San Gabriel Valley and worked as a pastry chef at San Francisco's State Bird Provisions before a pre-diabetic diagnosis at age 29 prompted her return to L.A. She began volunteering with API Forward Movement, a local nonprofit focused on health equity and food access in AAPI communities, and saw firsthand the need during COVID food distributions at L.A. State Historic Park.

Chinatown had lost its last two full-service grocery stores in 2019. Last fall, the neighborhood lost another: Yue Wa Market, a small produce shop that had served residents for 18 years before rising rent and pandemic losses forced it to shut its doors. The closures hit especially hard in a neighborhood where, according to American Community Survey data, half of the residents are low-income and one in five are seniors 65 and older — many of whom rely on walking to shop.

Jessica Wang (center, in black) and her mother Peggy (left, in white and red) smile while serving customers at a farmer's market pop-up for Gu Grocery.

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Daniel Nguyen

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Courtesy Gu Grocery

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Permitting woes

Much of bringing Gu Grocery to reality has been made possible by support from Wang's friends and family. Her father, Willie Wang, serves as her general contractor. When plans were submitted to the city in March 2024, he told her the buildout would take nine months if everything went smoothly.

Instead, she’s experienced delays from all directions, from slow bureaucracy, to issues with contractors. A hood installation contractor rescheduled multiple times, she said, then doubled his price the day before a rescheduled appointment. Drywall contractors said their workers had been detained by ICE and never returned.

The process hasn't just taken time — it's been expensive. One inspector approved a makeup air unit for the kitchen hood system, she said, only to have a senior inspector overturn the decision and order a complete replacement at nearly $6,000. Her father paid out of pocket — even as he was recovering from March surgery to remove a cancerous lung growth.

"Who would have thought that something an inspector asked us to do would be completely overturned by another inspector?" Wang said. "That's just so wild."

LAist has reached out to the city's Department of Building Services for comment but has not heard back.

The financial toll

Wang estimates she's spent more than $200,000 so far — more than $100,000 on buildout and permits alone, plus a full year of rent on a space she can't operate, equipment, insurance and taxes.

She draws no income from Gu Grocery. To cover personal expenses, she teaches fermentation workshops through her other business, Picklepickle, though that work has been inconsistent lately. Her health insurance doubled this year. The GoFundMe money, she said, is a "rainy day fund" in case she needs it to pay future bills.

The financial strain has touched her entire family. Her mother, who received a small inheritance when Wang's grandparents died, got scammed late last year trying to grow that money to help with the store. Targeted through online ads, she was convinced by an "investment tutor" based in Taiwan to hand over cash to a stranger in a parking lot.

"I didn't realize this would become part of what it's like to have aging parents in the age of technology," Wang said. "But it's scary how they get targeted."

Black sesame noodles from Gu Grocery's popup menu. Wang uses black sesame for higher nutritional value and plans to offer the dish as one of the prepared foods when the store opens.

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Aunty J

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Courtesy Gu Grocery

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Rice balls with house pickles from a Gu Grocery pop-up. Wang has been teaching fermentation and pickling workshops for 15 years and plans to serve pickles alongside all meals when the store opens.

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Aunty J.

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Courtesy Gu Grocery

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Addressing Chinatown's needs

Once Gu Grocery opens, it won't operate as a full-service market — there won't be a meat counter. Instead, it will function like a corner store with a focus on healthy prepared foods: butter mochi, sesame noodles and daily congee.

"Something that Chinatown has never had was prepared food that is EBT eligible," Wang said.

In 2020, Wang surveyed seniors through API Forward Movement's Tai Chi fitness program to understand their shopping habits following the closure of local grocery stores. Many told her they now ride the bus to Super King on San Fernando Road in Glendale, nearly 5 miles away, for produce deals, or rely on family members to drive them to 99 Ranch in Alhambra. Some grow their own food in gardening plots, Wang said, "but they can't produce everything they need."

Willie Wang (left), Jessica Wang (center), and Peggy Wang (right) pose inside Gu Grocery. The signs display the store's values in both English and Chinese — Willie's reads "body health" and Peggy's reads "mushroom auntie," playing on the dual meaning of "gu."

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Daniel Nguyen

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Courtesy Gu Grocery

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The community response

When she launched her Go FundMe in mid-April, she was overwhelmed by the response. "I have a hard time asking for help," said Wang. "So actually receiving help, it's very moving."

The donors range from former pop-up customers and friends to a range of assorted well-wishers — a musician who had her food once at an event, fellow food business owners, farmer's market regulars and even her insurance agent.

"The generosity is beyond my expectations," Wang said. "Some of these people only had my food once. People are showing their support truly in a personal way and really believing in the vision."

The GoFundMe money helps Wang stay "afloat for now," but she's had to rethink her opening strategy. She won't be able to afford full inventory when she opens. Instead, she plans a phased opening: prepared foods only, served through a takeout window, then using revenue to slowly stock shelves with the retail items she originally envisioned.

The community raised more than $14,000 in three weeks. After nearly two years of delays, Wang is still waiting for permits. She hopes to open by Father's Day — her general contractor dad's birthday. But she's learned to expect the unexpected.

Many donors sent her direct messages saying simply: "We got this, Jess, we got you."

Olympics organizers have released a first look at plans for a celebration of arts and culture across Los Angeles during the summer of 2028.

Known as the "Cultural Olympiad," the programming will include a poster series by local artists, film screenings across the city and a calendar of events, including live performances and art installations at different institutions. The city of L.A. will also put on its own events, including culture festivals in each council district, in the lead up to the Games.

Arts programming is a long Olympic tradition — starting in 1912 as artistic competitions and eventually evolving into festivals.

When Los Angeles last hosted the Olympics in 1984, the city hosted a weeks-long spectacle that included more than 400 performances and launched with the unveiling of a sculpture by artist Robert Graham topped with two statues depicting the naked female and male form, each without a head. The statues still stand at the entrance to the Coliseum today.

A closeup of the statues by artist Robert Graham atop the Olympic Gateway Arch at the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum.

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David Madison

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Getty Images

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The 1984 festival is credited with transforming the city's arts scene. After the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion put on opera productions in the summer of 1984, local patrons launched L.A. Opera, which had its first season in 1986.

“That moment — when this city chose to present itself to the world not only through sport but through the full force of its artistic imagination — gave rise to an institution that has, for four decades, reflected the scale, diversity and ambition of Los Angeles itself," Christopher Koelsch, president of L.A. Opera said in a statement provided by LA28.

L.A.'s artistic contributions in 1984 in turn transformed the Olympics. John Williams composed the "Olympic Fanfare" for the Opening Ceremony, which is still associated with the Games today.

The legacy of 1984 means expectations for the 2028 Olympiad are high — but most details on what's in store are still to come. Some in Los Angeles have criticized LA28, saying that planning is lagging.

Another big question is funding. The city of L.A.'s initial plan for cultural programming estimates a budget of $15 million, which would cover local festivals in each council district. But the city also painted a vision for what it could do with $45 million in funding, including a seven-week arts festival across the city.

Documents from the city's Department of Cultural Affairs says full funding will depend on external partnerships, including LA28. LA28 told LAist that the Cultural Olympiad will be funded through private fundraising but didn't provide further details.

The first event associated with the Olympiad will launch in July 2027, when winners of the local artist poster contest are announced.