The best part of the 2026 FIFA World Cup wasn't complicated. It was the soccer.
For a month, fans got exactly what they wanted. Great goals. Last-minute drama. Packed stadiums. Superstars delivering in the biggest moments. Underdogs making unforgettable runs. Every morning seemed to bring another can't-miss match, and every night ended with people arguing over what had just happened.
The worst part wasn't complicated either. It was FIFA.
That's the frustrating thing about the World Cup. The people on the field keep reminding us why we love this sport. The people running the tournament keep reminding us why we don't always love the business behind it.
Both things were true this summer.
If you watched every match, it's hard not to look back and smile.
This wasn't one of those World Cups where the favorites flamed out early or the biggest stars disappeared. It felt like everybody showed up.
Kylian Mbappé won the Golden Boot, edging out Lionel Messi and Jude Bellingham. Messi kept doing Messi things, somehow finding another level whenever Argentina needed him. Cristiano Ronaldo gave fans one more World Cup memory with a goal in what felt like a fitting goodbye. Erling Haaland helped turn Norway's now-famous seafaring celebration into one of the tournament's running themes.
And Spain? They were simply the best team.
Their championship wasn't a fluke. It was deserved. By lifting the trophy, Spain also became the first country ever to simultaneously hold both the men's and women's World Cup titles. That's not just impressive—that's a statement about what years of investing in the sport can produce.
There weren't many dull days during this tournament.
Canada celebrated its first World Cup knockout victory. Mexico earned one too and nearly knocked off England in a match that belonged on everyone's short list for Game of the Tournament.
Then there was the United States.
If you had told American soccer fans a few years ago that the U.S. men's national team would win three World Cup matches, score a program-record 11 goals and become one of the biggest stories in American sports for an entire month, most wouldn't have believed you.
But that's exactly what happened.
The Americans didn't just advance. They played with confidence. They attacked. They looked like they belonged.
The celebration after beating Australia in Seattle may have been the defining image of the tournament for U.S. fans.
Thousands of supporters singing "Country Roads" with the players wasn't manufactured. It wasn't staged. It was one of those rare sports moments that felt completely authentic.
For longtime U.S. soccer supporters, it was the kind of scene they'd been waiting decades to see.
That's the World Cup at its best.
It brings entire cities together.
It makes complete strangers hug each other after goals.
It creates memories people will still be talking about 20 years from now.
Unfortunately, FIFA has a remarkable ability to step on its own party. Some of the problems were annoying more than anything else.
Soccer has always been beautiful because it flows. The clock doesn't stop every few minutes. The action keeps moving.
Then came forced match breaks that suddenly made room for commercials. Fans didn't need anyone to explain why they were happening. Money. It was impossible to see them as anything else.
Then there were the bigger issues.
Throughout the tournament, FIFA once again struggled with transparency.
Questions about VAR reviews seemed to linger longer than they should have. Disciplinary decisions often felt confusing. Fans were left guessing why certain calls were made while others weren't.
That's never a good look for a sport that already spends too much time arguing about officiating.
The Folarin Balogun situation only added fuel to that fire. Reports that President Donald Trump and the U.S. government worked to help clear Balogun after an automatic suspension raised obvious questions.
Whether you agreed with the outcome almost didn't matter. The bigger issue was the precedent.
If governments can influence decisions involving player eligibility at the World Cup, where does that road end? That's the kind of question FIFA never seems eager to answer.
Then there was the tournament format.
Advancing eight third-place teams into the knockout round sounded exciting on paper. In reality, it created all kinds of weird situations.
Late in group play, fans needed calculators almost as much as scoreboards. Teams started worrying about goal differential, results in other stadiums and bizarre tiebreakers instead of simply winning matches.
That's not what makes the World Cup special.
Neither was dynamic ticket pricing. Too many loyal supporters found themselves priced out while FIFA benefited from commissions on secondary ticket sales.
The atmosphere inside a World Cup stadium has always belonged to the fans. When those fans can't afford to get through the gates, something important gets lost.
Politics also found its way into the tournament.
Still, through all of it, the soccer kept pulling everyone back.
That's what makes this tournament so different from almost every other sporting event.
One minute you're frustrated with FIFA. The next you're watching Messi create another magical moment.
One minute you're complaining about commercials. The next you're watching Cape Verde become everyone's favorite underdog.
One minute you're debating ticket prices. The next you're watching Scotland turn Boston into what felt like a second home.
The World Cup has always been emotional whiplash. This year may have been the perfect example.
There was beauty and frustration everywhere. The truth is, both can exist at the same time.
You don't have to pretend FIFA is doing everything right to admit this was an outstanding tournament.
You also don't have to ignore everything that happened off the field just because the matches were incredible. Both opinions can be true.
That's probably the biggest takeaway from this World Cup. The game remains bigger than the people running it. Always has been and will be.
The money generated by this tournament will undoubtedly help grow soccer around the world. That's a good thing.
Unfortunately, it will probably also encourage FIFA to keep pushing for more commercialization, more entertainment, bigger tournaments and more ways to squeeze every possible dollar out of the biggest event in sports.
That trend doesn't appear to be slowing down. Neither, thankfully, does the quality of the soccer.
When people look back on this World Cup years from now, they'll remember Mbappé's goals. They'll remember Spain lifting the trophy. They'll remember the U.S. finally capturing the country's attention. They'll remember Seattle singing "Country Roads."
They'll also remember the controversies.
That's the strange reality of modern World Cups. They're equal parts sporting masterpiece and corporate headache.
Somehow, they remain impossible to turn away from.
By the time the final whistle blew, most fans probably felt the same way.
The soccer was unforgettable.
The politics were exhausting.
The business was frustrating.
And if FIFA announced another World Cup in the United States tomorrow, we'd all clear our calendars anyway.
That's the power of the world's game.
