It ended almost as Gianni Infantino and Donald Trump had planned. Earlier on a seemingly endless World Cup final day, the trophy had, in a scene perfectly of a piece with the event’s excess, been let out of a Louis Vuitton trunk. Now they shuffled up to the podium together and presented it to a beaming Rodri, fumbling the moment slightly when Trump lingered for Spain’s team photo. After shrugging off anything resembling embarrassment they had made their exit, golden glitter sparkling on a bobbly pitch and the reverberations from a football event of unprecedented scale pulsing far beyond this concreted mini-state in New Jersey.
How to make sense of a heady, intoxicating, often deeply strange tournament that at once appeared totally welcoming and chillingly distant? It concluded with a disorientating fever dream beneath a bright blue American sky, football appearing a sideshow for much of the afternoon even if the game did not exactly help itself. Anyone straining for a parable could, if they wanted, take pleasure in Spain’s success. This was ultimately the triumph of a collective idea in a World Cup nurtured to indulge the cult of the individual.
Through it all Infantino and Trump sat abreast, absorbing the spectacle behind reinforced glass. What kind of advertisement for football’s health was this? The past month’s controversies demonstrate that football’s leaders, and Trump must be considered one given the influence conferred upon him, have never been remoter than this and nor have they been more bulletproof. On the other side of the divide Argentina and Spain passed, niggled, snarled, sometimes crawled through one of the worst finals of all time, although at times one wondered how much that really mattered.
The punters who paid $1m (£740,000) for pitchside seats from one hospitality provider, sun hats included, may have learned the hard way that football tends not to guarantee a dopamine fix on demand. But this was primarily an occasion for being seen rather than seeing. A document circulated by Fifa before kick-off proudly named 235 of the celebrities and VVIPs in attendance. One of them, Tom Cruise, attempted a speech in the oddly featureless pre-match show; he was drowned out by Argentina’s fans and it was one of the only moments in the day when a football atmosphere could be said to have prevailed.
This tournament has wrenched, tweaked and torn at football’s fabric. Perhaps the view among Infantino’s circle is that all publicity can be optimised, polished, made to bellow louder and mainline the sport’s brash, gaudy modern exterior into non-believers. Football’s governing body has certainly succeeded in imprinting itself upon the US public, a swathe of whom appeared to believe the tournament was named some variant of “the Fifa” throughout the summer.
But the Folarin Balogun affair has caused incalculable damage to trust in Fifa’s mechanisms, not to mention its proclamations of political neutrality. It has tested the patience of football insiders whose fealty may once have been beyond question, although not enough to prevent the certainty that Infantino will be re-elected by a landslide in March. Just as worryingly it teaches newcomers to the sport that every outcome is up for grabs if the relevant relationships are in place. Trump has made no secret that he would like solo host status handed to the US before long. The cooperation between him and Infantino is unlikely to scale back to that of golfing buddies. By the next available slot in 2038 his country may be staging football’s equivalent, in ethical terms at least, of the Enhanced Games.
For now the game has its ways of pulling through even if most of the final was a slog until, with afternoon blending into early evening, Ferran Torres confirmed Spain’s supremacy. Cape Verde’s story, and particularly that of their goalkeeper Vozinha, was one for the ages. Lionel Messi, Erling Haaland, Kylian Mbappé and Jude Bellingham did what stars ought to. Belgium destroyed a previously likable US side in the last 16, meaning Balogun’s reprieve at least had no material consequence.
Beyond the scandal and shame there have been genuine reminders of what a World Cup can foster. Cities such as Kansas City and Houston delighted in unfurling the red carpet for fans, teams and other visitors using them as bases. Hospitality and generosity were sincere, often disarming. From overseas it had been easy to tar the entire US with the dirtied brush of its administration. But human beings are essentially good, kind and curious. Travelling around the US at length offered a rare chance to remember that.
The US is big enough, its immigrant communities sufficiently engaged and its more obscure outposts adequately far flung, that evidence of this tournament could be found everywhere and nowhere. In Canada, the same applied to a greater or lesser extent. Mexico provided the injection of raw, unvarnished football passion. It offered the summer’s best venue, the peerless Azteca, and should have hosted matches beyond the last 16. The fear is it may not receive another chance.
Fifa and Infantino will be emboldened by the revenue of $15bn, which significantly exceeded their projections. In practice there was little danger of their not revealing a big win. The lust for bigger and better that consumes Infantino means there is little chance of scaling back from here. A 64-team tournament has now been legitimised as a discussion point. Perhaps, by the time that is implemented, international football beyond Europe will have found a way to flourish. It is a problem that Argentina and Morocco were the only standard bearers for other continents beyond the last 16.
Over and out, then, for a World Cup that has gobbled up money, resource, airtime and attention as never before. As Infantino and Trump departed, a tearful Messi stood before Argentina’s support. Here, at last, was the kind of intensely human moment the occasion had lacked. An era is over for football’s greatest-ever player and the fans who turn his every appearance into a vibrant homage. This was the month when an entire sport appeared to enter a fresh dimension of its own.
