SerpApi.Org
EAST RUTHERFORD, N.J. — When you're inside the World Cup bubble, covering one particular team, monitoring hamstring strains and learning "Country Roads" lyrics, you miss out on what is happening over the tournament at large.
You watch other matches when possible, but much of your time is consumed with commuting to training sessions and games, organizing notes and compiling quotes. (And stealing power naps.)
You see the fans, the merchandise, the TV ads starring the ubiquitous Timothée Chalamet, but you don't necessarily feel soccer's quadrennial jamboree.
Somewhere out there, a whole big festival is taking place.
The World Cup hit me a week after the USA's abysmal elimination. After covering the Spain-France semifinal in Greater Dallas, I waited to board a flight home to Washington. As travelers began lining up, some approached the gate agent to ask if the plane was equipped with live TV.
After all, the Argentina-England match would start while we were somewhere over Tennessee. I was thinking the same thing but was resigned to following written feeds online.
The gate agent was not sure, which sent pulses of anxiety through the inquirers.
Upon boarding, the same questions were directed toward the flight attendants. Yes, they confirmed, satellite TV was available. Still, you never quite sure it's going to work.
When the time came, many of the seat-back TVs throughout the cabin showed the same thing: Rebecca Lowe hosting Fox's pregame show.
England scored. Audible cheers and groans broke the mid-flight hum. Strangers struck up conversation about tactical adjustments.
As the Virginia countryside revealed itself, Argentina rallied. The equalizer! Then, as a flight attendant was sharing landing instructions, Argentina scored again. The plane erupted. The attendant halted his routine and said, "I realize this is an exciting football match, but I'm sorry, I need to prepare the cabin for landing."
Yes, he said "football."
The plane landed safely as stoppage time expired. Applause followed. The deplaning exercise buzzed with talk about another extraordinary finish in an extraordinary World Cup.
The plane experience was not isolated. Inside the terminal, travelers three deep stood outside restaurant bars to steal peeks at the highlights. Having missed the match, the Uber driver wanted to talk about the Spain-Argentina final.
The U.S. is not a soccer nation like Argentina, England or most other countries, but make no mistake: This World Cup took hold across the country (and the continent), converting the disinterested into curious, casual fans into serious fans and reaffirming true believers' love for the sport.
A skeptical planet turned its wary eyes to the United States, convinced this was going to be a disaster: empty seats, no passion, unwelcoming communities, improper stadiums. The planet was wrong.
In spite of FIFA's malfeasance (ticket prices, political entanglements, VAR imperfections, commercial breaks masked as hydration breaks), the World Cup was an undeniable success. Want to do it again in 2038? Don't laugh; FIFA isn't.
There were some empty seats, but not many. And given the ungodly prices and ungodly number of matches (104) played at all times of all days in all types of conditions, the tournament was an attendance blockbuster.
While Mexico's soccer culture is deeply ingrained and Canada's U.K. ties forged a baseline of fandom, the U.S. used this tournament to take the next step in its soccer evolution. There is now a level of sophistication, accelerated by accessibility the past decade to the big European leagues. Once buried on late-night cable, obscure channels or pay-per-view, soccer is everywhere.
The huge viewership numbers registered by Fox and Telemundo — 50 million for U.S.-Belgium and 45 million for Mexico-England were topped this year only by the NFL — were driven by the fact this was the World Cup. But they were also driven by the sport's increasing popularity on a weekly basis through the course of Premier League, Liga MX and Major League Soccer seasons.
The World Cup storylines were also a big reason for the interest.
Cape Verde — an archipelago of a half-million off the west coast of Africa competing in its first World Cup — advanced to the knockout stage and scared the living hell out of Lionel Messi and Argentina. An expanded World Cup allowed for these kinds of fairytales. Spain's only blemish was its scoreless opener against the Blue Sharks.
Norwegian fans rowed, the Dutch soaked the nation in orange and song, Scots drank Boston dry, Argentines took over cities small and large, Algerians welcomed the Midwest's love, Spaniards befriended Chattanooga, and everyone discovered the wonders of ranch dressing.
Rodri, the immaculate Spanish midfielder who won the Golden Ball as the tournament's best player, came full circle with America. The last time La Roja won the trophy, in 2010, he was a teenager at sleepaway camp in Connecticut, 113 miles from MetLife Stadium.
Messi proved age is nothing when you're the greatest this treasured sport has ever seen. In his sixth World Cup, the 39-year-old forward not only finished second in the Golden Boot race behind France's Kylian Mbappé; he played with elegance, ruthlessness and hunger in willing Argentina to memorable knockout-stage victories and a third championship appearance in four tournaments. His invisibility in the final was largely a credit to Spain's suffocating execution.
The World Cup also gave the American audience new heroes: Norway's charming viking-esque striker, Erling Haaland; Cape Verde's 40-year-old goalkeeper, Vozinha; and U.S. forward Folarin Balogun, who scored goals and handled his controversial red card with class and grace while all hell broke loose around him.
The U.S. team was an inspiration. It wasn't that the Americans won their first two matches to finish first in Group D; it was the way they did it. A nation began to believe in them. Conversely, it wasn't a huge surprise they lost to Belgium in the Round of 16; it was the way they lost.
The other hosts also went out in the Round of 16, but not after Canada won World Cup matches for the first time in history and Mexico took full advantage of playing at fabled Estadio Azteca before bowing to England in what was, given the setting, stakes and intensity, the best match of the tournament. (The 6-4 third-place slugfest between England and France was the most fun.)
There were disappointing performances, as well. Brazil and Germany, which boast a combined nine titles and 15 championship appearances, were gone by the Rounds of 16 and 32, respectively. Uruguay and South Korea were busts. The Asian confederation had a forgettable tournament. Christian Pulisic, the face of the U.S. effort, didn't meet expectations and departed the deciding game with a leg fracture.
Morocco showed the 2022 semifinal was not an anomaly, ousting the Netherlands and bouncing Canada before losing to France in the quarterfinals. Overall, African nations had a very successful tournament.
This World Cup also brought out stars in elite form: Mbappé became the World Cup's greatest scorer (with more tournaments still ahead of him); Messi was magnificent; Haaland and England's Harry Kane were lethal; and England's Jude Bellingham and France's Michael Olise were elite playmakers.
In the end, it was Spain's collective that stood tallest. A team with exceptional players but few superstars controlled matches through possession, organization and stifling pressure. The world now bows to both the Spanish men and women.
The final was not an aesthetic success, and Spain should have settled matters long before the 106th minute. But it was a triumph, nonetheless — a triumph for La Roja and, at the end of 39 glorious days across an enraptured continent, a triumph for the beautiful game.
