The politics and the missteps surrounding the Fifa World Cup 2026 are well publicised. But the pure joy and international goodwill that the tournament produces is second to none.
Across the past few editions of football’s crowning glory, it has been increasingly hard to welcome the World Cup with fully open arms. Whether you’re a sporting purist or simply a decent person, there were countless corruption allegations surrounding the winning bids of Russia and Qatar, the respective hosts in 2018 and 2022 – two nations with, let’s say, a creative approach to human rights. The Qatar tournament was controversially moved back many months to evade the Gulf’s scorching summer. Then there have been the myriad complaints concerning the current leviathan version that sees 48 teams play across Canada, Mexico and (most pertinently) the US.
But two weeks into the 2026 World Cup, the football itself and the international spectacle that follows it from city to city has truly lit up North America and beyond, largely putting gripes and some highly dubious politics in the shade – and you don’t even need to adore the beautiful game to appreciate it.
I have just spent the first 11 days of the tournament in Mexico and the US. Despite being a journalist who could be considered cynical even by industry standards, it was an almost unreservedly life-affirming experience. It’s a cliché no doubt but there are scant other events at which you can rub shoulders with such an array of joyful folks from around the world.
Where else within the space of a few days could you take a flight with singing Ecuadorians and pass a man dressed as (I think) a guinea pig, become engulfed in the smiles of celebrating Curaçaoans, share drinks with friendly Uruguayans, see stadiums filled with Mexicans in fake shirts supporting South Korea and Sweden for one night only or witness thousands of seated Norwegians performing a mass Viking row all around you?
Sure, there have been a fair share of missteps, mostly of the financial variety – $25 (€22) for a can of hard seltzer in the Kansas City Stadium this past weekend was a personal low. I also have doubts that Miami should ever have been allowed to host matches, given that a trip from the sunny city’s downtown to Uruguay versus Saudi Arabia necessitates a $90 (€79) Uber ride, followed by a 30-minute walk in the heat thanks to the confoundingly large security cordon around the stadium.
Elsewhere, plenty of pure, human moments demonstrated that not everybody is out to fleece fans, from something as simple as strangers sharing taxis to the rather grander show of defiance to Fifa’s cash grab from morally righteous Atlanta sports mogul Arthur Blank. Blank practically halved the cost of a visit to the city’s downtown stadium compared with other US venues by refusing to raise food and drink prices. The reason? To show the world Southern hospitality. Give that man a medal. Perhaps in the shape of the competition’s iconic gold trophy. It’s entirely heartwarming to confirm that for every tone-deaf Gianni Infantino or Donald Trump attempting to bleed fans dry or use the tournament for personal gain, there are tens of thousands of regular people who continue to make the World Cup the greatest show on Earth.
When James Lee McQuown started running along Seoul’s Han river some 15 years ago, pedestrians, speed-walkers and casual joggers were his main company. In recent years, however, the South Korean-American model, DJ and co-founder…
Opinion
此内容由惯性聚合(RSS阅读器)自动聚合整理，仅供阅读参考。 原文来自 — 版权归原作者所有。
