In his seminal work, Soccer in Sun and Shadow, the late Uruguayan writer and poet laureate of football, Eduardo Galeano, famously observed that "soccer is a pleasure that hurts." This paradox captures the essence of the modern fan’s experience: the transcendent joy of a last-minute goal tempered by the gnawing despair of watching a beloved sport being carved up by autocrats, corporate monoliths, and the relentless machinery of neoliberalism.
As the world turns its attention toward the 2026 World Cup—to be hosted by the United States, Canada, and Mexico—the "hurt" Galeano spoke of is taking on a distinctly democratic, yet no less exclusionary, flavor. While the sport has historically been used as a tool for soft power by dictatorships, the upcoming tournament highlights a different kind of theft: the pricing out of the common fan in the name of record-breaking revenue.
Main Facts: The Commercialization of the 2026 World Cup
The 2026 World Cup is poised to be the largest and most expensive in history. Under the leadership of FIFA President Gianni Infantino, the governing body is pursuing a strategy of aggressive financial maximization. As Infantino prepares for re-election, the pressure to deliver unprecedented profits has led to a tournament structure that many critics argue sacrifices quality for quantity.
The Cost of Attendance
For the first time, the tournament will feature 48 teams, up from the traditional 32. While FIFA frames this as "global inclusion," the practical result is a diluted competition featuring more mediocre matches. Furthermore, the logistical burden on fans is becoming untenable. In the United States, a nation already accustomed to high-cost sporting spectacles, the prices are reaching surreal levels. Reports indicate that parking for a single quarterfinal match could cost as much as $900—a figure that exceeds the monthly rent in many parts of the world.
FIFA as a Global Monopoly
FIFA’s financial stature is now comparable to that of sovereign states. The organization maintains cash reserves larger than the GDP of countries like Cuba or Kenya, and more than double that of Curacao. As a global monopoly, FIFA operates with a "the customer is never right" philosophy. Match schedules are frequently dictated by European television markets rather than the needs of local fans or the health of the players, leading to matches played in extreme heat or at inconvenient local hours.
Visa and Logistical Barriers
Beyond the financial cost, the 2026 tournament faces significant diplomatic hurdles. The United States’ stringent visa regulations are already causing concern among international supporters. The prospect of a World Cup "squeezed" between different political administrations—each with its own brand of self-aggrandizement—suggests that the tournament may serve more as a geopolitical stage than a celebration of sport.
Chronology: A Century of Political Hijacking
The idea that sport exists in a vacuum, independent of the politics and culture around it, has long been debunked. The history of the World Cup is a timeline of political exploitation, beginning almost as soon as the tournament gained global prominence.
The Early Era: Mussolini’s Muscle (1938)
The exploitation of the World Cup did not begin with the modern era of "sportswashing." As early as 1938, Italian dictator Benito Mussolini hijacked the tournament to promote his vision of a "muscular, triumphant Italy." By ensuring Italy’s victory on home soil and abroad, Mussolini used the pitch to validate Fascist ideology, a dark chapter often glossed over in earlier, more sanitized histories of the game.
The Cold War and Military Juntas (1978)
In 1978, the World Cup was held in Argentina while the country was under the rule of a brutal military junta. Despite reports of "disappearances" and human rights abuses occurring just blocks away from the stadiums, FIFA proceeded with the event. The tournament provided the junta with a veneer of international legitimacy, a template that would be refined in the decades to follow.
The Modern Era: Russia 2018 and Qatar 2022
The 2018 World Cup in Vladimir Putin’s Russia and the 2022 event in Qatar represent the pinnacle of modern sportswashing. Jonathan Wilson, in his book The Power and the Glory: A New History of the World Cup, details the unsavory maneuvers behind the Qatari bid. He highlights a pivotal lunch in 2010 involving French President Nicolas Sarkozy, the Crown Prince of Qatar, and UEFA head Michel Platini. Shortly after this meeting, Platini switched his support to Qatar. In the ensuing years, Qatar Sports Investment bought Paris Saint-Germain (PSG), launched beIN Sports to dominate French broadcasting, and purchased $10 billion worth of French Rafale fighter jets.
Supporting Data: Literary Perspectives on the "People’s Sport"
To understand how the game reached this state of hyper-commercialization, one must look at the analysis provided by contemporary historians and journalists. Three recent books provide the data and context necessary to grasp the scale of the shift.
Jonathan Wilson: The Power and the Glory
Wilson argues that the World Cup has always been a propaganda tool, but the scale has changed. He posits that the "hosting" of the event is now more valuable than the "winning" of it. For nations like Qatar, the goal wasn’t footballing excellence; it was "brand recognition" and "security through visibility."
Miguel Delaney: States of Play
Miguel Delaney, the chief football writer for The Independent, views modern football as "extreme economic neoliberalism distilled into sporting form." In States of Play, he describes how the sport "sucks up money from everywhere but then redistributes it as narrowly as possible." Delaney highlights the "Easternization" of the sport, where sovereign wealth funds from the UAE (Manchester City), Qatar (PSG), and Saudi Arabia (Newcastle United) have effectively bought the infrastructure of European football.
Simon Kuper: World Cup Fever
Simon Kuper provides a more personal, yet equally biting, indictment. Reporting on nine World Cups, Kuper notes that FIFA has shown a consistent willingness to embrace brutal regimes—from Argentina’s junta to Mohammed bin Salman’s Saudi Arabia. Kuper’s data suggests that despite the flaws and human rights concerns, the World Cup brand remains "unscathed" in the eyes of the market. The 2022 final was one of the most exciting in history, effectively silencing critics with the sheer spectacle of Lionel Messi lifting the trophy while draped in a Qatari bisht.
Official Responses and Justifications
In the face of mounting criticism regarding corruption and the "selling of the game," official bodies have maintained a stance of defensive optimism.
FIFA’s Stance
FIFA’s leadership consistently argues that expanding the World Cup and taking it to new territories like the Middle East or North America is about "globalizing the game." President Gianni Infantino has dismissed criticisms of human rights as "hypocrisy," arguing that Western nations have no moral high ground to lecture others. FIFA maintains that the increased revenue from the 2026 expansion will be reinvested into football development programs in smaller nations.
Legal Acquittals
It is important to note that while the 2010 bidding process was mired in scandal—leading to the downfall of several high-ranking officials—many individuals, including Michel Platini, were eventually acquitted of corruption charges in various courts. These figures have consistently denied any quid pro quo involving state contracts or military hardware, maintaining that their votes were cast in the "best interest of football’s growth."
Implications: The Future of the Beautiful Game
The trajectory of the World Cup suggests a permanent shift in the "international hierarchy" of the sport. As Simon Kuper notes, the World Cup is a rare space where the U.S. is an "also-ran" and China is non-existent, which is part of its allure for the rest of the world. However, that allure is being tested by the "Easternization" of the sport and the impending 2034 World Cup in Saudi Arabia.
The Loss of Purity
The primary implication for the fan is the erosion of the "purity" Galeano loved. When a sport becomes a vehicle for sovereign wealth funds and aerospace contracts, the connection between the fan and the team is strained. The "weekly return to childhood" described by Spanish writer Javier Marias is becoming an increasingly expensive and politically charged journey.
The Resilience of the Game
Despite the indictment of its masters, the game itself remains remarkably resilient. The books by Wilson, Delaney, and Kuper all share a common thread: an underlying love for the sport that survives despite the "selfishness of megalomaniacs." The World Cup may not solve the world’s problems, and it may indeed be "a pleasure that hurts," but it remains a unique global mirror.
As we look toward 2026 and eventually 2034, the pattern is clear: we are guaranteed more of the same—a mixture of depressing political maneuvering and elevating athletic magic. The challenge for the modern fan is to navigate the "shadow" cast by the autocrats and the corporations, while still finding a way to enjoy the "sun" of the center forward’s run and the goalkeeper’s impossible save. In the end, as long as there is a ball and a dream, the "people’s sport" will continue to exist, however precariously, in the gaps between the giants.
