My Beautiful, Dark, Twisted World Cup

Being a Conflicted American During the Greatest Sporting Event on Earth

We’re on the verge of crowning this year’s World Cup champion. If you’ve somehow been off the grid - or you’re my coworker who answered “London, because I have an obsession with the Princess of Wales” when asked who they think will win it all (slay) - here’s the update: for the last six weeks, North America has been hosting the World Cup.

If you’re unfamiliar with the concept, at its core it’s an international soccer tournament held every four years for men and women. But the most important thing to know is that it’s objectively the best sporting event in existence, and also my favorite. It’s impossible to fully describe the magic of the World Cup, but if I had to try: you get to watch a shit-ton of soccer (which is awesome) and celebrate the game with strangers who are as hyped as you are (even more awesome). For every 90-minute match, you can be a fan of any country, every country - wherever you were born, live, or feel any connection to, or none at all. No citizenship test, no purity test, no nothing. You’re just embraced wholeheartedly.

I’ve been looking forward to this World Cup since the day it was announced eight years ago. The first time it’s been on U.S. soil in 27 years, since Brandi Chastain tore off her jersey at the Rose Bowl in one of the greatest sports moments of all time. So it should have been absolutely no surprise when I was asked, “So are you rooting for the US?” the day before the tournament started.

Before spending a year in UNASB challenging my own thinking and behavior, I would have given some version of “America is dust and deserves no good things” or “ask me again when the women play” to my best friend’s seemingly innocent question. Instead, here’s how I actually approached it.

Multiple things can be true at once

I’d be remiss not to start with the fact that horrible things are continuing to happen in and perpetuated by this country, many of them antithetical to what the World Cup is supposed to stand for. ICE deportations are up. The Supreme Court is deciding who can and can’t play women’s sports. The US government is still waging wars and supporting genocides. It feels ironic at best and cruel at worst that we get to host an event symbolizing global unity and cultural embrace while so many people can’t, or won’t, come here - rightfully afraid of how we treat our own Black and Brown citizens, let alone visitors.

But then came the teams and the fans. There were heartwarming, tear-jerking videos of the Algerian team in Lawrence, Kansas, the Scots in Boston, the Koreans in Mexico. The magic of the World Cup found a way, giving us what’s now lovingly called “the Great American Sleepover.” The best of America showed up for people who came to support their countries and it was, unsurprisingly, the coolest thing ever. There’s so much I could say, but I’ll let this TikTok sum it up: “We actually don’t hate each other. The politicians really are the problem.”

Watch these. Watch more. Let yourself feel proud, even just for a few minutes.

People need good things to rally around

I’ll admit the first “USA” chant before our opening game against Paraguay gave me actual goosebumps, and not the fun kind. But being excited and united about something happy was, it turns out, incredible. There were a ton of people enjoying each other and celebrating together. During this tournament I made friends, gave high-fives and hugs, and talked to strangers. I remembered what it feels like to be part of something, and how intoxicating that is.

I’m still not sure what patriotism is supposed to feel like, but this was the closest I’ve come to remembering it as a force for good. I loved seeing so many people out and about, interacting with one another and literally just enjoying themselves. We need more sources of communal joy with a low barrier to entry - the more ways we find to be meaningfully together, the better our chances of pushing back against loneliness, fear, and all the things preventing us from starting to heal the incredibly deep wounds and divides.

Let’s stop treating sports as escapism, and start treating it as a source of community.

When Trump inserted himself into the red-card controversy over US player Flo Balogun, it broke my brain enough that I had to rewrite this entire piece. It shouldn’t have come as a shock, given:

1. The level of FIFA corruption. I genuinely can’t with this. Google it.

2. The extent of US collusion in that corruption. They literally gave him a fake peace prize last year (???)

3. The fact that we’re living in this timeline.

When the news broke, I was outraged, saddened, and honestly felt violated that Donald Trump had the audacity to pull something so unprecedented and self-serving. I was furious he’d put the entire team at the center of a political firestorm right before their knockout game against Belgium - cementing the divisiveness already baked into this country onto the USMNT itself. Then I came back to reality and remembered that it is in fact 2026 and I’m literally talking about *Donald Trump*... so why am I still so bummed?

A good friend put it beautifully:

We lost the game against Belgium. Spectacularly. It was an absolute thrashing, full of US defensive mistakes. The star player Trump had helped get reinstated was useless. Generally, it looked like we’d forgotten how to play soccer.

That loss wasn’t just a loss, it was the culmination of the ultimate lose-lose situation Trump had put us in. Win, and it feels cheap and shitty. Lose, and it’s deserved, and still feels shitty.

On the complete opposite end of the spectrum, Argentinian players displayed a banner reading “Las Malvinas Son Argentinas,” speaking out against English colonization, and France team captain Kylian Mbappé called out blatant racism from a Paraguayan senator. Two of many examples in this World Cup of how sport can serve as impetus for unity and change.

The reality is that no matter how much people want this space to be apolitical, it isn’t. Instead of pushing against that, we have to figure out how to use it as a source of mobilization and inclusion. To hold both truths at once: what was great about this World Cup, and all that was wrong with it, before it, and will still be wrong after it.

So, back to the original question: do I root for the US?

Undoubtedly, yes - in more ways than one. I’m rooting for the America I see in small moments every day, and saw on the big stage this summer. The kindness. The embraces. The joy. The diversity. Kids from all around the world in their team’s jerseys, playing soccer with one another. A 40-year-old keeper from Cape Verde, in his first World Cup appearance, holding off the Spanish. The camaraderie. The love, so much love.

The World Cup is just one reminder of what the United States is, and can be. It’s more than what Trump and his allies in government and media say it is. It’s what we believe in, and fight for it to be.

The USMNT losing - and hopefully, one day, winning - won’t hold our leaders accountable. Only we can do that. But what we can do is keep giving each other reasons to keep rooting for this country, and for ourselves.