Americans Not America
Some thoughts on the World Cup
Okay, so I’m aware you probably follow this blog because I am a humor writer and satirist who wrote for The Late Show with Stephen Colbert and The New Yorker and The Borowitz Report. As such, I’m sorry but today I’m writing about sports. Because I love soccer. I call it soccer because I am a U.S. citizen, but I call it football when I’m in England, I call it fútbol when I’m talking in Spanish, and I call it “this fucking horrible experience, why do I do this to myself????” when I’m watching Arsenal defend a one-goal lead.
The World Cup starts today and it’s safe to say the vibes are BAD! Which is a big problem because The World Cup, like most global sporting competitions, is entirely a vibes-based endeavor. Hosting the World Cup (and the Olympics) is not going to make you money. The only people who make money during the World Cup are FIFA, who presumably need billions of dollars to figure out how to make Gianni Infantino’s head shinier.
The World Cup is an expensive endeavor that creates a plethora of logistical, political, and social headaches for host nations. I also firmly believe it is also something every nation that can afford it should do because it is a joyful spectacle that millions of people in the world WANT to see. The best World Cup of my lifetime was the 2010 World Cup because the vibes were impeccable and the stories and narratives were fantastic: It was the first World Cup in Africa (a continent that has given us some of the greatest athletes in the sport like Didier Drogba, George Weah, Kolo and Yaya Touré, Nwankwo Kanu, and of course, Mo Salah); it was held in 2010, a time when most Western countries were experiencing a post-2008 Obama glow that made us feel that racism was over and things were gonna get better; and the World Cup song was Waka Waka performed by Shakira. So, a Colombian singer performing in English, Spanish, and a Cameroonian language called Fang (which is a fact I learned BECAUSE of the World Cup.) The vibes were unbeatable because the tournament gave us what we want. Human beings crave big sporting events. We CRAVE connection. We CRAVE stories. We CRAVE ham-fisted tie-in ads where David Beckham is forced to hang out with Steve Carrell.
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On paper, on a vibes perspective, the 2026 World Cup had the potential to be one of the best World Cups of all time. It is the first time the tournament is held in three nations at once, and perhaps more interestingly, in an entire continent. The name of the bid was United 26, and while that obviously foreshadowed that the majority of the spotlight (and the games) would be held in the U.S., it also highlighted an idealized version of the tournament where three neighboring nations held one big party. But like every block party, it all appears to have been ruined by the two finance assholes from the same cul-de-sac who need to make everything about themselves: the President and Mr. Clean’s pervert brother, Gianni Infantino.
Trump’s isolationist policies, unabashed racism toward immigrants, and inability to not be the center of attention, have made the United States a global pariah. By cozying up to the President and turning this World Cup into Donald Trump’s America’s World Cup presented by Palantir and Newsmax, Infantino has turned the tournament on a referendum of America and its current policies. “United 26” doesn’t gel with “Mass Deportation Now.” You can’t have Waka Waka if you’re MAGA MAGA.
In the past week, we have seen this isolationism directly affect people participating in the tournament at every level. Because Trump started an unnecessary war with Iran, Iran’s National Team was forced to relocate their training camp to Mexico, Iranian fans have had their tickets revoked and Iranian players are not allowed to stay overnight in the U.S. even if they have games here. Because Trump decided Somalia is a shithole country, Somalian referee Omar Abdulkadir Artan, who is considered to be the best ref in Africa, was not allowed to enter the U.S. and was detained by Border Patrol for eleven hours in a little room at Miami International Airport. Infantino and Trump are so stupidly evil, they have made the world ROOT FOR A REF.
My sister, a Colombian Gen Z-er who lives in England and who— I think— has held a basketball three (3) times in her life called me to talk exclusively about the Knicks for fifteen minutes this morning. Sports make us care. About each other, about strangers, about places and people we haven’t met. There’s a reason the Greeks were making jars about how fast those naked dudes were all the way back in the fifth century B.C.. Sporting competitions define and redefine nations. It is why Qatar and Saudi Arabia use them to sportswash their national images. As a fan of soccer/football/fútbol, and as a fan of the United States (I am an immigrant, and I chose this place) I must refuse to allow Donald Trump and Gianni Infantino to make this party about them.
Because The World Cup is not about them. It never has been. Despite Infantino’s best efforts, soccer is a sport of the masses. It is “the world’s game” because all you need to play it is a ball and two sweaters so you can make a makeshift goal. This is not Donald Trump’s World Cup. This is the Americans’ World Cup. Because I believe, by-and-large, that Americans are good people who love sports and love a story. They (we) are a great hang. We love to be fans. We love to get involved. We love to have opinions. We love to root for something. Take this man from Lawrence, Kansas who’s gone viral for this interview talking about welcoming the Algerian National Team to his town:
This man is the final boss of Americans. Does he know much about Algeria? Nope. Does he like Algeria? Sure! Is he psyched as hell that the World Cup came to his hometown? ABSO-FUCKIN’-LUTELY. I promise you, this dude is trying couscous and merguez for the first time in his life this week. Will he like it? I don’t know. Will he try it? You bet your ass he will. And he’s a Midwestern guy, so if he doesn’t like it, the worst thing he’ll probably say about it is “now that’s flavorful!” He’s not the only Lawrence fan who has converted to the religion of fútbol. There’s so many examples.
When Donald Trump inevitably tackles Lamine Yamal or Kylian Mbappé so he can grab the World Cup trophy and rub his balls on it during the final on July 19th, I hope that we all boo him like the crowd at MSG. But more importantly, I hope that we remember that this is not his World Cup. You cannot overpower the indomitable human spirit and love for sport by standing by the actual athletes and pretending you have more power than them. It’s why NFL franchise owners always look stupid when they hold the Lombardi trophy, and it’s why Sheikh Jassim of Qatar had to awkwardly stand as Emiliano Martínez celebrated his 2022 Golden Glove win by doing this:
So, when Trump and Infantino try to ruin this party, I hope we all remember that the 2026 World Cup does not belong to Gianni and it does not belong to Donald. It belongs to Lamine, it belongs to Kylian, it belongs to Mohammed, it belongs to Luis, it belongs to Erling, and most importantly, it belongs to Lawrence.
Great writing! Thank you.
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