The 2026 World Cup marks the first time three nations have co-hosted the tournament and the first time the United States has hosted since 1994. But in the months before kickoff, a sampling of local voices compiled by The Guardian paints a picture of subdued anticipation shadowed by economic and political discontent.
Ticket prices dominated the responses. “It would cost $2,000 for me to go to a group stage match with my wife and two kids,” a contributor from Atlanta identified as Kyle told The Guardian. “None of those games is worth that.” In Houston, Ian Sherman said “nosebleed seats for Saudi Arabia v Cape Verde cost more than $200 each. It’s a joke.” A fan in Los Angeles, Walid, reported that spending “more than $600 for a group game” had become normal. Several contributors said the expense had priced out their families.
In Mexico City, Francisco Fontano Patán said the ticket system was “abusive and out of reach for 90% of people.” Heather Chambers in Guadalajara noted that most local incomes range between 10,000 and 30,000 pesos a month and called the prices “ridiculous.”
Political and security concerns also surfaced repeatedly. Fontano Patán said being part of a World Cup hosted under the Trump administration “feels wrong,” citing visa obstacles for citizens of qualified countries and the fact that the U.S. is “bombing one of the participating nations.” In Kansas City, Eric Wahl said he worried about “the preponderance of guns in American cities,” recalling a mass shooting during the Chiefs’ Super Bowl celebrations across the street from where the World Cup fan festival will be held. A Vancouver resident, Ian Holliday, voiced unease about safety at fan festivals outside stadium confines.
In several U.S. cities, contributors described a muted civic atmosphere. “Most people in Atlanta are apathetic about the World Cup,” Kyle said. James Powell, writing from Philadelphia, said there was “not much excitement” and that the topic rarely came up in conversation. In San Francisco, a contributor named Ali said, “A lot of people aren’t into soccer and don’t know the World Cup is this summer, never mind in our back yard.”
Seattle offered a notable exception. Roger Paul Probert-Baker, a transplanted Englishman, reported a “very positive” mood with banners around town and high energy. He and his family had applied to volunteer for the tournament.
Toronto also appeared more enthusiastic, with Peter Nazir Faiz describing a city where streets fill with fans from every corner of the world when a team scores. “Toronto lives and breathes World Cup football and this year it will explode,” he said.
Several contributors expressed hope that the tournament might still deliver joy. David Achenbach of Boston, who attended games in 1994, said he was “more jaded” this time but believed “whatever cynicism and weariness I am feeling will fall away once the first games kick off.” Eric Wahl in Kansas City said he hoped the city’s World Cup contributions would be “free of violence” and looked upon by the international community as “unexpectedly amazing.”
“In troubled times, world sporting events have the potential to bring us together in joyful ways,” Wahl said. “Don’t we all need that sometimes?”