We were left sitting here just very confused.
Every four years, the World Cup arrives as a promised tide that lifts all vessels — yet in the American cities draped in tournament banners this summer, hotel owners are discovering that anticipation and arrival are not the same thing. Eight in ten properties in host cities are tracking below expected occupancy, a quiet reckoning shaped by the collision of soaring ticket prices, immigration anxieties, and the weight of a changed political moment. The world's most-watched sporting event has always been as much about belonging as about football, and what the empty booking calendars may be telling us is that belonging, right now, carries a cost many cannot bear.
- Hotel managers who spent years preparing for a World Cup windfall are instead staring at occupancy rates that trail even ordinary summer numbers — the silence in their booking systems louder than any stadium roar.
- Final tickets priced as high as $32,970, resale listings surpassing $2 million, and a cost-of-living squeeze are pricing out the very fans whose passion was supposed to fill these rooms.
- Immigration enforcement operations and the political climate of Trump's second term have introduced a layer of fear that is keeping international visitors — particularly from Latin America and the Muslim world — from committing to travel.
- Industry leaders and hotel managers are holding onto hope that last-minute bookings will surge once match schedules solidify, but the cautious optimism is tempered by the recognition that some damage may be structural, not seasonal.
- The divergence is striking: Airbnb projects the tournament will be the biggest hosting event in its history, while traditional hotels describe the same moment as a near non-event — a split that may signal a deeper shift in how fans choose to inhabit a city.
The billboards are everywhere — Kansas City, Houston, Miami, New York — glossy promises of a World Cup summer. Yet when hotel managers opened their booking systems, they found something closer to silence than celebration. An industry survey revealed that eight in ten hotels in host cities are tracking below last year's numbers for the same period, with many describing the tournament as a "non-event" despite years of buildup.
Deidre Mathis, who owns the Wanderstay Boutique Hotel in Houston less than a mile from the fan zone, had expected the tournament to transform her spring. Instead, her occupancy rate languished at 45 percent — down from 70 percent the year before. She pointed to converging pressures: the political climate under President Trump's second term, immigration enforcement operations across major cities, the rising cost of living, and ticket prices that had grown almost prohibitively steep.
That last factor loomed largest. Final match tickets at MetLife Stadium were officially priced up to $32,970, with resale listings exceeding $2 million. Even Trump acknowledged the absurdity, saying he wouldn't pay it either. Scottish fan Hamish Husband called the pricing "scandalous" — a thousand dollars for Scotland versus Haiti struck him as fundamentally unfair — yet he and his brother were committed regardless, a rare World Cup appearance for Scotland compelling them forward despite the cost.
The American Hotel and Lodging Association found bookings tracking below typical summer levels across host cities. Stephen Jenkins, who manages the Fontaine Hotel in Kansas City, had seen a modest uptick when fixtures were announced and expected more as match dates neared — yet when Argentina came to town, Messi's star power failed to match what Taylor Swift's Eras tour had delivered in 2023. Manuel Deisen of the InterContinental Buckhead Atlanta sensed "incredible enthusiasm" beneath the quiet numbers and anticipated last-minute surges.
Mathis urged FIFA to slash ticket prices and called on the government to expedite visa processing. The White House had already established a World Cup taskforce and exempted fans from 50 countries from a $15,000 visa deposit. FIFA defended its pricing as a guard against resale profiteering, noting more than five million tickets sold and seats available from as little as $60. Airbnb, meanwhile, predicted the tournament would be the biggest hosting event in its history — a stark divergence from the hotel industry's cautious outlook. As the opening matches approached, the question remained whether last-minute bookings would materialize, or whether political anxiety, economic strain, and astronomical costs would leave American host cities with a World Cup that never quite filled the rooms.
The billboards are everywhere in Kansas City, Houston, Miami, and New York—glossy promises of a World Cup summer. Bars have tournament signage. Stores are stocked with merchandise. Yet when hotel managers opened their booking systems, they found something closer to silence than celebration. An industry survey revealed that eight out of every ten hotels in World Cup host cities are tracking below last year's numbers for the same period, with many describing the event as a "non-event" despite years of buildup.
Deidre Mathis owns the Wanderstay Boutique Hotel in Houston, situated less than a mile from the fan zone and a short drive from the stadium. She had expected the tournament to transform her spring and early summer. Instead, she watched her occupancy rate languish at 45 percent for the World Cup period, down from 70 percent the previous year. "We were sold this expectation the World Cup would be a big phenomenon," she told the BBC. "People have been talking about it for years. So when we looked at our calendar and saw in February, March and April that we still weren't sold out—and it's not just us in Houston, but it's all over—we were left sitting here just very confused." She pointed to several converging pressures: the political climate under President Trump's second term, including immigration enforcement operations by ICE agents across major cities; the rising cost of living following the US-Israel war in Iran; and ticket prices that had become almost prohibitively expensive.
The ticket question loomed largest. Final match tickets at New Jersey's MetLife Stadium were officially priced up to $32,970, with resale listings exceeding $2 million. Even Trump, a vocal World Cup enthusiast and supporter of FIFA president Gianni Infantino, acknowledged the absurdity when asked about the costs: he said he wouldn't pay it either. Hamish Husband, traveling from Scotland to follow his national team, called the pricing "scandalous." A thousand dollars for Scotland versus Haiti tickets struck him as fundamentally unfair. Husband and his brother were committed to the journey regardless—a rare World Cup appearance for Scotland meant many fans would travel despite the financial burden—but the cost remained a barrier for countless others.
The American Hotel and Lodging Association, representing tens of thousands of properties from major chains to independent bed-and-breakfasts, found that bookings across host cities were tracking below typical summer levels. Association president Rosanna Maietta acknowledged the Iran war as a contributing factor but suggested some fans were simply waiting for schedule certainty before committing to rooms. Stephen Jenkins, who manages the Fontaine Hotel in Kansas City, echoed the pattern: no anticipated boom, though he had seen a modest uptick when fixtures were announced and expected more as match dates drew closer. He had banked on the "once-in-a-lifetime experience" narrative, even planning a "Culinary Cup" where guests could eat country-themed meals. Yet when Argentina came to town, Lionel Messi's star power failed to match what Taylor Swift's Eras tour had delivered in 2023—a city-wide sellout.
Manuel Deisen, general manager of the InterContinental Buckhead Atlanta, reported similar tracking: lower inquiries and bookings than hoped, though he sensed "incredible enthusiasm" and anticipated last-minute surges as fans finalized plans. Mathis urged FIFA to slash ticket prices and called on the US government to expedite visa processing for international fans. The White House had already established a World Cup taskforce and exempted fans from 50 countries from a $15,000 visa deposit if they held valid match tickets. FIFA countered that demand had been "unprecedented," with more than five million tickets sold, and that some seats were available for as little as $60. The organization defended premium pricing as a measure against resale profiteering.
Airbnb, by contrast, predicted the tournament would be "the biggest hosting event" in its history—a stark divergence from the hotel industry's cautious outlook. As the tournament approached, the question remained whether last-minute bookings would materialize or whether the convergence of political anxiety, economic strain, and astronomical ticket costs would leave American host cities with the spectacle of a World Cup that never quite filled the rooms.
Citas Notables
We were sold this expectation the World Cup would be a big phenomenon, people have been talking about it for years. So when we looked at our calendar and saw in February, March and April that we still weren't sold out—and it's not just us in Houston, but it's all over—we were left sitting here just very confused.— Deidre Mathis, owner of Wanderstay Boutique Hotel in Houston
There is no fairness in football anymore, but $1,000 for Scotland v Haiti tickets—that is scandalous.— Hamish Husband, Association of Tartan Army Clubs
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why would hotel owners be surprised? Didn't they know ticket prices were going to be high?
They knew the prices existed, but I think they underestimated how much that would suppress travel overall. They were banking on the "once-in-a-lifetime" narrative—the idea that people would stretch financially to be there. Instead, people are doing the math and deciding it's not worth it.
But Airbnb is saying this will be their biggest event. How do you square that?
Airbnb operates differently—shorter stays, more flexibility, often cheaper than hotels. If you're a local or you're driving in for a single match, you might use Airbnb. But international tourists planning week-long stays? They need hotels, and those are the ones hurting.
The immigration enforcement angle—is that really keeping people away, or is that what hotel owners are blaming?
It's real. When ICE is conducting raids in your city, international visitors feel it. They're nervous about their safety, about their status, about whether they'll be hassled. It's not just a talking point; it's a genuine deterrent.
So what happens in the next month? Do bookings suddenly spike?
Maybe. Jenkins saw a bump when the schedule dropped. But there's a ceiling now. The damage from high prices and political uncertainty isn't going to reverse. You might get some last-minute travelers, but you're not getting the boom everyone imagined.
Is this a failure of the World Cup coming to America, or a failure of how it was priced?
Both. But the pricing is the visible culprit. When a final ticket costs more than a used car, people notice. And when your own president says he wouldn't pay it, you know you've lost the narrative.