Covering the World Cup showed us a side of MetLife we'd never seen

MetLife Stadium has become a home away from home.

I’ve spent nights in the press box for high school, college and pro games. I’ve watched Springsteen from the upper deck with my dad. And I’ve complained about the arena’s gray, soulless exterior like everyone else.

But for eight World Cup matches, it became something entirely different. Louder, more colorful, more global. It was a temporary city built for the world.

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FIFA transformed the grounds so completely that it sometimes felt like reporting from a military base. A mini‑village sprouted outside the gates. Parking lots became fan zones. Staffers zipped around on motorized carts while choppers hovered overhead. Train cars were redesigned with “Deliver us to fútbol” plastered across the sides. And across the highway, the face of Spain’s teenage star Lamine Yamal took over a billboard.

Let’s be clear, though: no matter what FIFA tells me, we’re not calling it New York New Jersey Stadium.

When the world met the Meadowlands

Inside, the tournament delivered unforgettable moments. Norway supporters turned the north end zone into a Viking ship, rowing in unison after beating Senegal. Their run to a first‑ever quarterfinal only amplified the energy.

Erling Haaland became a one‑man tourism campaign. He tried on cowboy hats, stopped by Katz's Delicatessen, wandered Times Square and then scored four goals in two matches here, as if the Meadowlands were his personal playground. Visitors discovering America – Haaland included – became its own storyline.

Ecuador brought the energy, too. More than three hours before upsetting Germany, supporters poured in from the American Dream mall like a parade route. Drums echoed around the tunnel. Families stopped for photos. Then came the chants of “Sí se puede!” as fans made their way down the walkway toward MetLife.

The fans and the music gave North Jersey a new rhythm, whether it was German goal song “Major Tom” or France's “Magic in the Air” after each win.

Inside the experience covering the World Cup

Covering the World Cup meant learning a new postgame routine. After Kylian Mbappé scored twice against Sweden in the Round of 32, the press core waiting for him became a mass of humanity – easily more than 100 reporters packed shoulder‑to‑shoulder.

But the crowd was only part of it. Unlike other pro sports, where you send a story quickly after the game and head straight to the locker room, the World Cup has a much longer cool‑down period. You finish your story, then walk about three‑tenths of a mile outside the stadium to a pop‑up tent for interviews around 30 to 60 minutes later.

And you have to choose where to go: the mixed zone with players, or the press conference room with coaches. There’s simply too much media to do both.

Technology made life easier.

After Ecuador’s win, I sat a few rows behind coach Sebastián Beccacece. He spoke in Spanish as English came through my headphones in real time on FIFA’s interpretation app. His first answer lasted seven uninterrupted minutes – touching on suffering, faith, calmness, adversity, and traveling the length of Ecuador as an outsider to learn its culture. It was unlike anything I’ve heard in over a decade at The Record.

And then there was the press box itself. In American sports, cheering is taboo. At the World Cup, it’s tradition. There were full‑on celebrations after goals and disappointment for poor play.

The Argentine press sang the national anthem before the final. Spanish reporters yelled “¡Vamos!” after their country’s World Cup title. After one press conference, a group of reporters even took a selfie with the coach.

That was part of the joy: sharing space with people who’d traveled across oceans to do the same job you were doing in your backyard. My ears perked up at Mbappé’s press conference when reporters nearby started chatting in Italian. I’m trying to learn the language, so recognizing a few words then spotting the mic flag for La Gazzetta dello Sport made a big room feel a little smaller.

Now if only Italy had qualified.

At times, an Italian proverb came to mind: “Tutto il mondo è paese.” The whole world is a town.

Different countries, same reactions. Different languages, same passions.

Nowhere was that clearer than watching fans from Bergen, Norway celebrate in Bergen County, New Jersey. Or the time Norwegian fans belted out a version of “We’re Not Gonna Take It”. It was a poetic anthem. Twisted Sister was formed just up the road in Ho‑Ho‑Kus.

The World Cup final was unlike anything else. When photographer Julian Leshay Guadalupe said we needed to arrive at 9 a.m. for the final, I thought he was nuts. Six hours before kickoff?

Then it took 1 hour and 40 minutes to get through security and the winding maze of reporters, volunteers, photographers, and staff. But who’s more equipped for a traffic jam than us?

Through it all, the star power was staggering. Messi. Haaland. Mbappé. Vinícius Júnior. Lamine Yamal. New Jersey hosted icons and sold out every game but one.

For a few weeks, East Rutherford became a center of the soccer universe. For eight games, we had a front‑row seat to how the world celebrates soccer. It’s hard to imagine MetLife ever looking – or feeling – like that again.

This article originally appeared on NorthJersey.com: Covering the World Cup showed us a side of MetLife we'd never seen