Remember when England beat Croatia 4-2? It seems like a long while ago, and back then, I was forcing myself to like the World Cup.
I’ve covered this before, but since 2002, maybe 2006, I’ve struggled with the World Cup. Since 2014, I’ve actively disliked it. Us not getting to host it in 2018, the farcical winter competition in 2022, and now FIFA has changed the structure of the game to suit advertisers in a host nation. The beautiful game, sullied by years of mishandling and corruption.
I’ve watched the games, I’ve kept up with it, but it’s been too much. “Who’s playing today, Dad?’ little Sam asks (ambiguous, male or female, appeals to all) “It’s a big one, son, Uzbekistan v DR Congo, then we’ve got Algeria and Austria for the right to face Switzerland in the last 32”. Not exactly the greatest of world football, setting your TV on fire. The only thing setting TVs on fire this World Cup group stage would be overuse in the extreme heat of the living room, as the 15th game in three days pops up.
I’ve followed it, but since the opening game, England have reverted to type, lacking penetration against a wall of players who couldn’t make a living in a top-end Championship team. Commentators have tried to convince you that Australia and Paraguay has major connotations for the whole tournament, while we’ve complained about the wrong things.
‘It’s so American,’ ‘It’s football, not soccer’, etc. It’s as if Americans are using soccer, a word I can find in the Lincolnshire Echo database right up to 1998, as a slur. It’s as if the US, a country ready to put on a grand tournament like this one, without a new stadium being built, is a problem.
There was no worry of slave labour in the build-up, no white elephant stadiums left to crumble, but as with many World Cups, America is not the enemy. FIFA is. FIFA took the World Cup and sold it into commercial slavery, changing the game for advertisers (no hydration breaks in Qatar 2022). The ticket prices have gone above what most people would pay for a car, and in some parts of the US, you could buy a house for the same price as entry to a game. That’s FIFA.
Anyway, this isn’t me wanting to tell you what was wrong with the World Cup. This is me wanting to tell you that this week has seen the competition finally land in a world where every game means something, and where I feel it has connected with the average viewer.
Cape Verde started it, taking Argentina all the way. I can’t get on board with ‘it’s a miracle, a first qualification from the group stages since….’ when in some groups 75% of the teams went through, one having lost two games. A fairytale is when a performance matters, and Cape Verde taking one of the pre-tournament favourites all the way matters.
Then, the 36 hours that changed the game for me. Brazil and Norway, a World Cup institution (and Norway) in a head-to-head. The crumbling of Neymar’s facade, a player overhyped more than a Jordan Belfort stock option, was a joy to behold. His last-minute penalty, arrogance and then dismay as the whistle went, was pure World Cup joy. I love a villain just as much as a hero, and in recent years, on the international stage, it’s been hard to see which is which.
Then, England. Not safe England, playing a team ranked 64th in the world intent on stopping us playing. This is what we want to see, England in jeopardy, England up against it. The late-night fireworks, the storm, the hyped record of the Azteca Stadium, the hosts in confident mood, not having conceded a goal. Finally, an opponent who we’re going to pass us to death, but fight us. Finally, a worthy World Cup match, and to set it all off, it’s in the middle of the night as well.
World Cup 2026 has finally arrived!
We said on the podcast it was very ‘Brazil, 2002’ and that does it a disservice. Forget that in Mexico’s four wins they played ten men (or fewer) twice, and only beat an awful South Korea side 1-0. Forget about their home advantage actually being a succession of wins against teams so far below them in the rankings that it’s like Lincoln playing Boston most weeks and then claiming Sincil Bank is a fortress. Forget all of that.
The stage was set, but you need the actors. You can be in the grandest theatre of all, but if a village amateur dramatics society put the play on, then the standard will drop. What we got was prime theatre, a little bit of everything. Brilliance, injustice, a thickening plot, goals, cards, VAR (done properly) and finally, a team of white-shirted warriors who had done what very few England sides have managed to do since 1996: earn universal national respect.
As if that wasn’t enough, after what sleep tactic you tried, many of us were in front of the TV for Portugal and Spain, a classic sleep-aid if ever I saw one. 90 minutes of ‘we’re better than these two’ before, hopefully, you woke up to see the end of Ronaldo, four years too late, but no less satisfying. Finally, sleep.
Then, Schrödinger’s Belgium. I couldn’t stay up until the middle of the night to watch this, but as with us and Mexico, we had a World Cup match that will be talked about for years. If I ask you what the score between Jordan and Algeria was, you might check to see if Jordan was even there. If in ten years’ time I mention the US and Belgium, you’ll remember it.
The backdrop is, obviously, Infantino’s evil plot to keep the US in as long as possible, suspending Folarin Balogun’s rd card. Balogun was sent off in the previous game against Bosnia, a harsh red, without a doubt. In an unprecedented move, a major political figure, Trump, got involved, and FIFA suspend the suspension. Finally, after dancing around the edges of possible corruption, FIFA’s chief just didn’t both trying to hide it any longer. UEFA released a statement, putting a fracture in UEFA and FIFA relations. I don’t like World Cups that interfere with real wars (US and Iran) but a World Cup that starts a civil war in football? Let’s have it.
The result, albeit by accident, was to light the one remaining portion of the World Cup bonfire that wasn’t already blazing away. The US team aren’t to blame here, but the chess moves by men in suits above them took them from actually being plucky outsiders with a chance of upsetting the form book to a team hated everywhere other than the 50 states they represent. Suddenly, the entire world was Belgian. We put on our Jean-Claude Van Damme movies, made a plate of waffles, cracked open the Leffe and sang Alors on danse at the top of our voices.
Why Schrödinger’s Belgium? Because when I woke up this morning, for a few minutes, I lay and waited. Until I checked the internet, Belgium were like the Austrian’s famous cat. The USMNT (that’s what the US call their team) were neither in nor out of the World Cup. I lay in bed, pondering which I’d prefer (obviously out) and why (FIFA). It actually felt a bit harsh because the US side had looked good, played well, and shouldn’t have had the same hate pushed towards them as some have attributed to the whole tournament. They didn’t put prices up. They didn’t lift the player’s suspension; they didn’t even ask for it. They didn’t send the Somali referee home, or disadvantage Iran. They didn’t ask for hydration breaks, or for Trump to be present on the pitch when England the eventual winners, finally get their hands on the trophy. It’s not on them, but it felt like it was for much of the world.
I opened the box and found the cat dead, and I was utterly delighted. Not at another team’s demise, but because I realised I cared about the World Cup. It was 9:30 am, I was still tired from the weekend’s sleep patterns, and yet I’d lie there for ten minutes, coming up with an analogy that included a 1930’s thought experiment concerning quantum superposition to demonstrate just how invested I am.
I won’t buy a sticker album, I won’t paint my face and scream ‘it’s coming home’ in pubs. I probably won’t buy a DHGate shirt, or get angry every time that England fan who looks like a melted welly comes on the box.
But I will always remember the World Cup 2026, and considering right now, I can’t tell you who England played in the group stages of 2022 (Panama and Croatia, maybe? Wait, did we beat Iran 6-2 or something?). I think that is a testament to what a great tournament it has become, despite FIFA, not because of it.