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Will football eat itself? FIFA World Cup 2026
20/07/2026
John Williams, University Fellow in Sociology, goes into extra time with one final blog about the World Cup.
The reported TV audience in the UK for the England v Argentina World Cup semi-final last week was measured at around 25 million. Given rising individualism, the impact of globalisation, expanding media choice, and the influence of social media and mobile phone technology, this is a truly astonishing figure. It confirms that live sport can – and does – still bind us together at critical moments, in both common cause and heritage. And in ways that almost nothing else can. National sport seems especially important in this respect: in these placeless times, it really matters to people.
Following the fortunes of the England football team in this World Cup has meant that we, the English, could all get behind – and somehow claim briefly as our own – Jude Bellingham, Harry Kane, Marcus Rashford and others, no matter their wealth or where they now play their club football. In important ways, they are who we are. And this is surely another enduring seduction especially of national team sport: that, unlike elite clubs, nations cannot easily buy their success. Most countries do not import their star international players, so transfer fees and the conventional wage negotiations of club football simply do not apply. Rightly or wrongly, we imagine that these men (and women) compete because they, like us, love our country. And most elite European football nations also insist that their coaches must have that same national affiliation. In these global times, coaches are expected to display a common heritage and deep emotional connections; elements rooted in our shared sense of national belonging. ‘Our coach is also one of us; and, when we lose he really hurts, just like we do.’ In a commodified world, national sport tells us, we must learn to depend upon and trust our own resources.
Almost alone now among our European peers, we in England routinely hire foreign coaches to run our national football team, often at great expense. None have yet been successful. This is only one reason why the current German coach of England, Thomas Tuchel, took such a metaphorical kicking last week, after his adopted country collapsed to Argentina. Ironically, Tuchel himself referred later to alleged absences from the English ‘footballing DNA’; he said that we lack an innate capacity to hold the ball and control games when in winning positions. He made little mention of those creative and technical England players he had left at home, of course; or his own defensive tactics and substitutions which allowed Argentina’s star players – including 39-year-old Lionel Messi – the time and space to score two late goals and settle the contest. (Messi’s cross for the winning goal took out seven England defenders.) For Tuchel, managing England is a job. Where are the Gareth Southgate types when you need them?
The coaches of the World Cup final teams, Spain and Argentina, have no elite coaching experience outside of their developing national team duties in the country in which they were born. They understand well their national sporting history, culture and identity, and the key strengths and weaknesses that are rooted in their own domestic footballing DNA. Perhaps there is yet a message here for the FA in England? Certainly, Spain has few footballing and identity problems right now, easily seeing off favourites France, 2-0, in the other semi-final played last week. Two important sports dictums could easily be applied here: firstly, that individuals win awards, while teams win titles; and, secondly, that defence decides contests, attack tells you only by how much. Spain’s defence, and France’s complete lack of teamwork in attack, effectively decided this contest.
But somebody should really have told France that they still had to play the despised ‘bronze medal’ match in Miami this last weekend. By the time they got the message they were already 4-0 down to England. This contest was a perfect sell for US TV executives: relatively meaningless sporting entertainment, but one full of drama and goals. It ended as a tennis score, 6-4 to England. But even this kind of performativity was so much better than the 2026 World Cup final, played out in New Jersey on Sunday. This contest mattered rather too much to Argentina. They looted their stash of dirty tricks to try to destabilise Spain – and it almost worked, until a red card for Chelsea’s Enzo Fernandez swayed the dial. For the wider public good and the moral health of the game, the Spaniards finally found an extra time goal to win the 2026 Fifa World Cup. But it was all a very close call. And the player who changed the game? Substitute and Pamplona-born Nico Williams, a man whose Ghanian parents had crossed the Sahara barefoot in the 1990s to reach Melilla, the Spanish enclave on the North African coast. Modern national identities can be very complex constructions.
With the football world waiting, the final had kicked off some six minutes late, mainly in order to allow actor Tom Cruise to babble on vacuously in an on-pitch speech about ‘football and unity.’ As warned, the half-time interval was extended to over 30 minutes to grab TV attention and ape the NFL Superbowl by inviting a group of musical artistes to part-justify the extraordinary ticket prices on offer for this global entertainment package. Non-hospitality tickets were available, pre-match, on Fifa’s own official sales platform for a cool $32,000. Donald Trump and Fifa president Gianni Infantino, together, presented the trophy and medals – and then Trump refused to vacate the photographs taken of the winning Spain team. Make it up, one could not.
So, it has been five long summer weeks and 104 matches that have stretched over some of the hottest weather we have ever experienced (Those early morning World Cup games came in very handy in the intense night heat.) Somehow, we – and the game – have survived it all. The commodification and Americanisation of the Fifa World Cup – its hydration breaks; the extended half-time concert in the final; the Trump/Infantino love fest; political intervention by politicians matches; and Fifa as an official online purveyor of tickets at well over face value – have all stuck in the craw. But few could deny it has been a corporate success. Fifa estimates that the 2026 World Cup will benefit the global economy by some $40.9 billion, whilst raising its own coffers by a record $15 billion. However, an open letter from Alain Berset, the Council of Europe’s general secretary, has warned Infantino about the integrity of the 2026 competition: its excessive commercialism, racism, political manoeuvrings, and itemised gambling. World Cup 2030 will be held in North Africa and Europe and Infantino and his henchmen will still be in charge, so nothing much will change. But one day very soon international football, under this gluttonous tin-eared Fifa regime, will surely finally eat itself.
If you have been, thanks for reading. jxw@le.ac.uk