Old School. Biblically Independent.
By Kayleigh Donaldson | Miscellaneous | June 10, 2026
The 2026 World Cup is about to kick off, with Canada, Mexico, and the USA joining forces to act as the host nations for the biggest football tournament on the planet. It’s a big deal, this competition of pure sporting prowess under the banner of camaraderie and international relations. The so-called beautiful game has long stood tall as a symbol for something beyond 90 minutes on the field. FIFA, the organization behind the World Cup, has also spent decades insisting that the event is unifying, joyous, and apolitical. Ha. If ever there’s been a year where making that case is nigh-on impossible, it’s 2026.
I can’t claim I’m not excited about the World Cup in some way. I’m Scottish and this will be the first time my country has qualified for the tournament since 1996. The last time we played in this competition, I was eight years old. I will turn 36 next week. We are a nation of football lovers with a devoted world-travelling fanbase, the Tartan Army, who are famed for their good vibes and ability to drink the other countries under the table. My dad is heading to Boston as I write this, eager to be there in-person for something that could be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. The buzz in my home city is palpable. There are Saltire flags everywhere. Murals of Scott McTominey’s bicycle kick goal are popping up across the country. We’re getting a bank holiday on Monday so we can properly celebrate the occasion! On its most basic level, this is a thrilling thing. So, why do I have this sinking feeling in my stomach, other than all the obvious reasons?
Everything about this World Cup feels more crooked and sleazy than ever. I need you to understand how damning a statement that is, because it’s been common knowledge since the group’s inception that FIFA is full of bald-faced opportunists who would throw babies and infirm grandmothers into rush hour traffic for an extra dollar. Where do we even start with their history of bribery, rigging, and sheer ineptitude? In 2010, one reporter alleged that three senior FIFA officials had taken massive bribes over the course of a decade that totalled about $100 million. 14 FIFA officials and marketing executives were indicted by the United States Department of Justice in May 2015 over charges of wire fraud and money laundering. The decision to award the 2018 and 2022 events to Russia and Qatar was immediately called out as a display of shameless bribery. Speaking of 2022, let’s get into the entire event having to take place in Winter rather than Summer because Qatar’s heat would have been suicidal to play in. Amnesty International reported on migrant workers’ “forced labour” to build all the stadiums, with some being denied food and water and having their passports confiscated.
Truly, we could be here for days going through every instance of FIFA embarrassing themselves. We haven’t even touched upon them giving Donald Trump a “peace prize” to placate the monstrous ego of a man whose travel ban has massively impacted fans and players’ abilities to go to this damn event (including one Somalian referee, who was forced to return home.) The President has been eager to make the World Cup a presentation of his greatness, something he does with literally every event involving a camera. Nobody expected FIFA to do better, but we are shocked by their continued ability to find new ways to sink even lower.
From a purely cost-based perspective, this World Cup is already a bust. Host cities across the three countries have reported swaths of empty hotel rooms, with the astronomically inflated costs of room and board pricing out many fans. The lack of proper public transport in many cities has made basic access impossible. Train tickets for the journey from New York to the Metlife stadium went from $12.90 to $150, before being reduced to $98. New Jersey’s Governor blamed FIFA for refusing to subsidise transport expenditure. FIFA even tried to ban reusable water bottles from venues for “safety concerns”, despite fears of record temperatures in June and July.
And then there are the ticket prices. According to BBC Sports, when tickets “went on sale to members of each country’s official supporters’ club in December, the most expensive was listed at $8,680 (£6,581).” FIFA, who gets a 30% fee from each ticket sold, tried to defend this obscenity by claiming this was just a reflection of the market. If that’s the case, why are so many tickets left unsold at this stage in the season? Last month, officials in New York and New Jersey officially launched an investigation, with FIFA facing allegations of “artificially inflating prices” and “misleading fans” over ticket sales.
Sportswashing is the practice of governments, businesses, and individuals using sport as a way to clean up their reputation and distract from other controversies. It’s become a powerful tool over the past couple of decades, from Qatar getting David Beckham to promote the beauty of the 2022 World Cup for £125 million to F1 events in Bahrain and Abu Dhabi to the Saudi government purchasing Newcastle F.C. It’s easy to get people to ignore all of your atrocities if you put on an impressive show, and football, so universally beloved, is pretty damn useful for it.
For some reason, the narrative sports as a non-political force is curiously impenetrable despite decades of evidence to the contrary. “Just let us enjoy the game”, people scream as they’re bombarded with gambling ads, reports of racism and transphobia, and a doddery orange man dancing to “YMCA.” What’s political about the WWE going to Saudi Arabia? Can’t you just enjoy watching Jesse Owens run in Berlin 1936?
Sportswashing is meant to distract from the crimes, but how does that work when we’re all aware of them and most people just don’t seem to care? Everyone knew that Qatar was using the World Cup to legitimize itself on the world stage, in part because they said it outright, and fans still went to a country with horrendously sexist and homophobic laws to cheer on their favourites. Formula 1 has only grown bigger and more popular off the backs of violent dictatorships. I can’t help but think of Eurovision, which has now become an annual display of Israel’s impunity in the face of genocide. They can do what they please, all but rig the votes, and people keep watching because, oh, it’s so fun and not that serious.
Really, this problem is inescapable, and I think that’s why people just keep their heads in the sand. How do you navigate your life and loves when all of it, literally all of it, has become the playground of the ultra-wealthy and their political agendas? David Ellison’s turning Paramount and CBS into his hard-right mouth-piece. Your favourite singers perform for oligarchs and dictators’ birthday parties. The most stunning artworks ever created hang in Saudi and Qatari galleries. Your beloved teams are all owned by Trump’s BFFs and full of his supporters (or accused rapists.) Generative AI has engulfed all of our hobbies, helping to line the pockets of losers and plagiarists. I can see why it’d be tempting to just shut up and watch the game. And I can’t exactly claim I’m going to be sitting in the dark and boycotting something my country has waited decades for (the first game is on at 2am so I may fall asleep before that, but still.)
Life is an endless cycle of loving things that don’t love you back. The World Cup has abject disdain for the people who truly love and care about football. It is a puppet show for FIFA to make its executives obscenely rich at the expense of literally everyone else who isn’t already wealthy. Hosting the event in a country where the government is disappearing citizens into detention centres is almost a parodic level of corruption. “Simply the greatest event that humanity, that mankind, has ever seen,” was how FIFA President Gianni Infantino described this Summer’s World Cup. He’s not exactly wrong. They said the same thing about the Hunger Games.
