104 matches. 39 days. Three countries. And a fanbase that's never felt more conflicted about a World Cup than this one.
With the 2026 tournament kicking off Thursday across the United States, Mexico, and Canada — culminating in the final on July 19 at MetLife Stadium in New Jersey — supporters from Auckland to Oslo to Panama City are tuning in with something between cautious optimism and outright disgust. Ticket prices in the high hundreds or low thousands. ICE anxiety. Climate concerns. A FIFA president who seems more interested in currying favor with the powerful than protecting the game. It's a lot to carry into a tournament.
And yet. People are going anyway. People are setting alarms for 2am. People are printing stickers to share with strangers in the stands.
The ticket problem nobody solved
The single loudest grievance, repeated across continents, is price. A fan in Massachusetts lives 45 minutes from Foxborough but can't justify triple or quadruple-digit resale prices. A Toronto supporter got in through a friend's work contacts and family accommodation — "otherwise I would not be attending." A reader in Louth, England, pulled out a physical ticket from the 1986 World Cup: the quarter-final, semi-final, and final combined cost him $100. The bus from New York to MetLife alone costs more than that now.
One New Zealander in the group whittled down from several friends to two, priced and politicked out. A Panama supporter said people are now choosing which games to watch on TV because even broadcast access has become a financial calculation. "FIFA is betting on the loyalty of the fans," he wrote, "and losing."
It's not just the sticker shock — it's the feeling that the tournament has been handed to the wealthy and the well-connected, with everyone else negotiating the scraps.
Trump, ICE, and the political fog over the whole thing
For international fans, the US leg of the tournament carries a specific kind of dread. A reader who left America four years ago won't return — not for immigration uncertainty, not for plane fuel guilt, and not for tickets she describes as "insanely expensive." A Vancouver supporter attending Australia v Turkey in Canada says she's "very relieved that ICE will not be in Vancouver" and is crossing her fingers that no visiting fan ends up detained.
An Argentine fan puts it plainly: he wants his country to win a fourth star, but he's tired of watching Messi smile with Trump. "I admire players like Mbappé or Lamine Yamal when they speak about immigration, condemn the far right," he wrote. "I'd like to hear more voices speaking about social issues." That's a pointed critique — and one that won't go away just because the football starts.
A New York supporter who got cheap tickets and intends to enjoy them still called the summer "a missed opportunity for our country to be and do more." He described the whole situation as "a bad insult comic trying to do crowd work, and bombing" — with US soccer simultaneously playing the comedian, the crowd, and the venue losing money on the act.
The magic that keeps people coming back
None of this has actually stopped people from caring. A Scottish fan in Clackmannanshire — Scotland's first World Cup in 28 years — talks about Scott McTominay's overhead kick and Kenny McLean scoring from his own half and Kieran Tierney's "thunderbastard" with the kind of affection that no amount of Infantino-era cynicism can really touch. "Hope," he calls it. "That most comforting and sickening feeling."
A Norwegian supporter, 32, has spent his entire adult life watching World Cups while cheering for surrogate teams — Germany, Denmark, Sweden. This summer, Norway play. They landed in the group of death with France and Senegal. He's nervous and excited and mildly concerned about the American heat being literal as well as figurative.
A New Yorker is drawing up a neighborhood map — parts of Harlem near Senegal supporters, Sunset Park buzzing on Mexico matchdays — treating the whole thing as a personal hosting opportunity regardless of what FIFA has done to the broader event.
- Canada v Switzerland is drawing fans who got in through personal connections rather than official channels
- New Zealand supporters have flown from Auckland, navigating time zones and political unease to catch Group G games live
- Panama supporters are hoping — realistically — to see their team score against England, not necessarily win
- Scotland fans are buying Panini sticker books at nearly 40 years old, and nobody is ashamed of it
The Vancouver reader boycotting entirely might be right about everything. The New Yorker lamenting the missed opportunity probably is too. But the Scottish fan setting a 2am alarm for a game his country hasn't played in nearly three decades? He's going to watch every single minute.
"The USA kind of sucks, but we will go there anyway." One New Zealander credited that line to journalist JJ Bull. It might be the most honest sentence written about this entire tournament.
