Wherever you’re watching Sunday’s absurdly scheduled and executed World Cup final, please remember this one thing.
The overwhelming majority of American fans did not want it to go like this.
Spain and Argentina may het provide a memorable competitive spectacle. But it will be hard to avoid focusing on the commercial encroachment FIFA is prepared to enable at their marquee event. From the mandatory hydration breaks that have effectively turned halves into quarters to a 30-minute halftime interval with plenty of ad blocks to sell either side of an 11-minute halftime show, to a ridiculous mid-day July kickoff outside New York City in a nation with plentiful suitable indoor venues, every decision feels aimed at maximizing commercial opportunities.
But rather than have the guts to own up to those motivations, FIFA has paraded out the nebulous idea of some nebulous John Q. Public fan that lusts for a more Americanized version of the global game.
Only one problem: There’s very little evidence such a specimen exists.
To the extent Americans have flocked to soccer in the 32 years since the U.S. previously hosted the World Cup in 1994, it has been in pursuit of an alternative to the increasingly commodified North American pro sports landscape.
Major League Soccer, the top-flight domestic pro league that launched in 1996 as a condition of hosting the World Cup, only started showing steady growth after it discarded similarly foolish attempts to Americanize soccer with shootouts, overtimes and the ugliest uniforms you’ve ever seen.
And where MLS still struggles is not in convincing Americans that soccer is worth watching, but rather that their version of soccer should be the one fans choose. The English Premier League, Liga MX and UEFA Champions League still pull considerably larger TV audiences in the U.S. And while some of that owes to quality and prestige, just as much relies on a sense of authenticity and community connection. Clubs in England, Mexico and elsewhere are seen as historic civic institutions. With less history and often less track record of community engagement, MLS clubs struggle to match that kind of importance.
When it comes to the U.S. national team, the desire to see players leave MLS and test European waters is at an all-time high. The belief is clear: the world’s version of this sport is better and more competitively rigorous than our own.
And at the most expensive World Cup in history, where it’s presumed costs have dampened the portion of fans traveling from other countries, FIFA’s mandatory hydration breaks have been summarily booed as an unnecessary disruption and commercial intrusion.
The record American TV ratings at this World Cup reflect a generation of growing momentum combined with the increased visibility that comes from hosting the event again in prime TV viewing hours. They follow multiple tournaments of continued growth on the airwaves of Fox and Telemundo before this one. They come despite attempts to “Americanize” the sport, not because of it.
So please remember that when you’re watching Shakira, BTS, Madonna and Justin Bieber while wishing Messi and Rodri return to the pitch already.
At best, this awkward injection of American capitalism and showmanship is the reflection of what a single 56-year-old Italian man thinks U.S. fans want to see, based on the reflections from an inner circle that clearly says yes to nearly all of his ideas. At worst, they are a naked cash grab.
But they are not a legitimate attempt to meet American fans where they are. We’ve already come a lot further than that.
