“Seriously? Sérieusement?” voices yelled all around me, as a collective groan went through the crowd. I was in a small village in southern France, watching the France vs Spain semi-final in the town’s only pub. At this moment, I, along with about 200 locals, watched Spanish player Lamine Yamal fall to the ground clutching his shin. As his teammate Mikel Oyarzabal geared up to take the penalty kick, children, older men, young women, everyone really, muttered prayers under their breath. Another collective howl passed through us as the penalty shot went through, and the camera panned to Oyarzabal, who beamed at the audience and made direct eye contact with the camera.
Not an avid sports fan myself, I was half expecting this close-up to be followed by a reality show–style cut into one-on-one sound bytes from the players. After all, the first twenty minutes of the match had felt like an episode of Selling Sunset, seeing a series of falls by Spanish players and a litany of pleas by French players looking to avoid blame, or worse, another penalty shot to Spain. And then, to top it all off, a hydration break, no doubt a tactic to attract advertisers. “Why are there hydration breaks all of a sudden? They’re making this just like American football,” says longtime Spain fan Maite Saco, likening the FIFA World Cup 2026 to American football (derogatory). Unsurprisingly, the sport’s season finale, the Super Bowl, is known more for the great selection of ads and musical performances than the sporting event itself. While soccer has always been glamorous too—long live the WAGs and Beckham’s abs—the showmanship never came at the cost of the sport. But this World Cup has seemed intent on turning players into reality TV archetypes, like the most-followed heartthrob on social media (Cristiano Ronaldo), the best ship (Erling Haaland and Jude Bellingham) and the one who everyone loves to hate and hates to love (inexplicably, Lionel Messi). These characters don’t necessarily win the show, but they do collect fandom and opportunities to monetise along the way. Apparently, team sports are no different, as only Messi from the list above is in line to win the World Cup.
FIFA serves as the caretaker of the sport. It has been grandfathered in for so long that most misgivings against the organisation are acknowledged but not actioned. An international self-regulatory governing body for association football, FIFA continues to face new allegations every World Cup over corruption, favouritism and avarice. This year, the accusations against FIFA are several, and increasingly ridiculous: Trump was able to convince FIFA to throw out a red card against a top U.S. player, several integral Iranian officials and staff were blocked from entering the U.S. despite the players being given visas, and favouritism was shown to Argentina by reversing a goal scored by Egypt and withholding a penalty they deserved.
Sport is supposed to be the great equaliser. To win, you have to be the best. Now, players like Messi and Ronaldo are given demigod status, allowing them to circumvent the rules of the once-beautiful game. Last year, Ronaldo was given a red card and a three-match ban for his violent behaviour towards Irish player Dara O’Shea in a qualifying match, which should have precluded him from playing the first two matches of the World Cup. FIFA suspended the ban after one match, citing that Ronaldo had not received a red card for his 225 other international appearances. The fact that he undoubtedly drives viewership up is, of course, a complete coincidence. This year’s final will also include the FIFA World Cup’s first-ever official halftime show, featuring the likes of Justin Bieber, Madonna, Shakira and BTS, followed by 15 minutes of analysis. Never mind that FIFA has previously cited the “negative impact on player welfare and safety resulting from a longer period of inactivity” as justification for not extending halftime at prior editions of the World Cup.
