FIFA approaches the U.S. like a field to be harvested

The difference, of course, is those countries cared. The 2026 World Cup is nominally a North American tournament, but Canada and Mexico are more or less surplus parking, with 13 games apiece out of 104. No, this is the American World Cup, above all, in the rotting age of Trump.

So there are layers. This is the biggest World Cup ever: A 48-team field, up from 32, will expand the number of games from 64 to 104 over 39 days. It will mean wall-to-wall soccer, a shallowing of the talent pool, and some hard-to-watch group games before the matches between titans. Enjoy Curacao-Germany, everyone!

But even before you get to Trump, bringing the World Cup to North America was always a collision between two entities that cannot actually understand one another. FIFA is accustomed to being treated like a secular god; in most countries, FIFA is like the ancient traders who could exchange a handful of peppercorns for a pile of gold, because FIFA sells one of the most valuable products on Earth.

The United States has proven semi-immune to those charms, but FIFA has approached it like a field to be harvested, and the result has been the Screw You, Give Me Your Wallet World Cup. Ticket prices are hilariously eye-watering, almost quadruple the cost of tickets in Qatar in 2022 (although, in fairness, Doha is not known as a party city), and the upcharging does not stop there: transit, parking, merchandise, you name it.

Oh, and remember how FIFA said you could bring your own refillable water bottles, in what is expected to be a World Cup held in some oppressive heat? Well, that’s was changed, and then changed back, so spectators can now bring in sealed, disposable bottles. Surely water will be available for purchase in the stadiums at a reasonable — or at least, clearly displayed — price.

So with one week to go, attorneys general in New York and New Jersey are investigating FIFA ticketing practices; FIFA is being accused of colluding with ticket resale websites so the initial price point can stay high; FIFA keeps releasing blocks of tickets and some prices are falling, and seasoned observers are expecting FIFA to paper the house, if need be, by releasing cut-rate tickets late. Oh, and hotel bookings in many World Cup cities are below typical volumes for June and July.

And amid the greedy plunder of a land that may not be too interested in being plundered, there is another element at play. The World Cup was awarded during Donald Trump’s first term, and perhaps FIFA thought he wouldn’t be an issue in 2026. But Trump was re-elected in 2024, and the animating principle of his movement is the hatred of people who don’t look like them, which includes most of the rest of the world.

That strain of ugliness is not confined to the U.S., of course; England is just one of the teams which are proof of power of immigration and diaspora, even as white nationalists rally in English streets. You would hope that soccer would be a powerful argument against the far right. Of course, it was less than a month ago that French superstar Kylian Mbappé, born in Paris to a first-generation immigrant father and a mother of Algerian descent, said he worried about France’s far right. Soccer should be a force for good, in this regard. 

But this tournament will take place in the balance, and the rabid fervour of this version of America is unnerving. Swiss striker Breel Embolo was barred from travel due to visa issues; Morocco’s Zakaria El Ouahdi was briefly barred for the same reason before being allowed to travel. Iran had to move its pre-tournament training base to Mexico, amid the U.S.-Iran war, and was still awaiting visas for the United States the week before the tournament; U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement, which has swept up everyone from undocumented immigrants to U.S. citizens, will be at matches.

“This will be the biggest and most inclusive, the greatest FIFA World Cup event,” said FIFA president Gianni Infantino recently. But Infantino clearly means inclusive in terms of countries in the tournament, countries hosting the tournament, and perhaps revenue sources.

It will be a white-knuckle ride. Qatar didn’t love soccer, but understood the basic concept of soft power. America in 2026 is a country whose leaders are indifferent to the sport and capable of anything, which might be apparent through the mist of marketing campaigns, promotional videos, celebrity cameos and hype. Oh, and the price-gouging will be inescapable. Yes, the soccer will save some of this tournament, at the least, in what could finally be the final rides for Lionel Messi and Cristiano Ronaldo and so many other icons. The beautiful game remains the beautiful game.

But in America — and Canada, which remains a young and small soccer nation — these are not fertile grounds for the core of what makes the World Cup great: The U.S. lacks the openness, and both nations, in the context of global soccer, lack the widespread passion. So this may feel forced, may feel unnatural, and might work anyway, thanks to the game and the world. There is nothing like a World Cup, and there may be nothing like this World Cup, for good and bad. Let the holy war of gouging, loathing and soccer begin.