"Climate change is now affecting the spectacle that you see." That's not a campaigner's slogan — it's a professor of human applied physiology at the University of Portsmouth describing this summer's World Cup. And he's right.
When the 2026 tournament kicks off across North America, heat will be as much a feature of the competition as any star player. A quarter of the 104 scheduled matches are expected to reach wet bulb globe temperatures of 26 degrees or above — the point at which heat strain becomes a genuine risk for athletes. Five games are projected to exceed 28 degrees, the threshold that the players' union and the American College of Sports Medicine classify as unsafe. FIFA's own guidelines only consider postponement at 32 degrees. That four-degree gap is a choice worth scrutinising.
What the heat actually does to players
It's not just discomfort. Under serious heat stress, players experience uncontrollable rises in deep body temperature leading to exhaustion and, at the extreme end, heat stroke. Games played in these conditions tend to be noticeably less intense — sprinting frequency drops, distances covered shrink, and matches are statistically more likely to reach a penalty shootout.
If you're looking at over/under markets or backing high-intensity pressing sides, the venue and kick-off time need to be part of your thinking at this tournament. A team built on relentless running — your Germanys, your Moroccos — may simply be unable to execute that style when it counts most.
England have already started adapting, training in the Miami heat to acclimatise before the tournament. Smart preparation. But acclimatisation only goes so far when the conditions are genuinely extreme.
FIFA's response and its limits
The organisation has introduced mandatory three-minute cooling breaks at the midpoint of each half — a first for the World Cup — alongside climate-controlled substitutes' benches and expanded misting and shading infrastructure at venues. Several matches have been moved to evening slots. These are real measures.
They may not be enough. Last month, 21 scientists — physiologists and climate experts — wrote to FIFA arguing that its safety guidelines were insufficient and "impossible to justify," calling for longer breaks and more aggressive locker-room cooling. The frequency of extreme heat across the ten host cities that previously staged World Cup matches has tripled on average since 1994, the last time North America hosted the tournament.
It's worth remembering that Qatar 2022 was scheduled in winter specifically to avoid this problem. There is no equivalent escape route this time.
- Miami, Kansas City, and Philadelphia are flagged as most likely to hit the dangerous 28-degree wet bulb threshold
- Atlanta, Dallas, and Houston have climate-controlled stadiums — but outdoor fan zones and queues outside remain exposed
- Older fans, younger children, and those with underlying health conditions face elevated risk regardless of venue
The tournament spans 104 matches — 40 more than any previous World Cup. That's a lot of exposure, spread across a long, hot North American summer. The scale of the event makes the heat question harder to manage, not easier.
At last month's French Open in Paris — amid the city's hottest May on record — Czech player Jakub Mensik collapsed after four and a half hours on court and was taken off in a wheelchair. He called the conditions "insane." Football matches are 90 minutes, not four and a half hours, but they involve full-body exertion across a pitch in direct sun. The comparison isn't alarmist. It's instructive.
