A tournament meant to be a national celebration is becoming one many cannot afford
As the 2026 World Cup approaches North American soil for the first time, a quiet but telling contradiction has emerged: a tournament meant to embody the democratic spirit of the beautiful game is being priced beyond the reach of the very communities it claims to celebrate. President Trump's admission that he himself would not pay a thousand dollars to watch the United States open against Paraguay gives voice to a frustration felt by working-class fans across the country. FIFA's market-driven pricing logic may be economically coherent, but it raises an older, harder question — when a public spectacle becomes a luxury product, who does it truly belong to?
- A $1,000 price tag for the US opener in Los Angeles has turned a moment of national celebration into a symbol of economic exclusion.
- FIFA's decision to price tickets by team popularity rather than a flat rate has fractured the traditional promise of accessible tournament football.
- A 30% resale fee on every secondary transaction means the governing body profits even from fans trying to navigate a market it helped inflate.
- Transportation surcharges — including a $150 train fare that normally costs under $13 — have stacked additional barriers on top of already prohibitive ticket costs.
- After public backlash, FIFA introduced limited $60 tickets and New Jersey reduced its train fares by 30%, but these concessions have done little to restore trust.
- Trump's populist framing — that his own voters from Queens and Brooklyn are being priced out — has given the accessibility crisis a sharp political edge that tournament organizers cannot easily ignore.
President Trump made headlines this week by saying he wouldn't pay a thousand dollars to watch the United States face Paraguay in the World Cup opener on June 12 in Los Angeles — even if he'd like to be there. Told the price by a reporter, he said he hadn't realized it had climbed that high, and added that he'd be disappointed if working-class supporters, the people from Queens and Brooklyn who voted for him, couldn't afford to go.
The 2026 tournament, co-hosted by the US, Canada, and Mexico, marks the first time North America has held the World Cup, and the pricing controversy has overshadowed much of the buildup. FIFA departed from the traditional flat-rate model for group-stage matches, instead setting prices according to perceived team popularity. The result is that the US opener has become one of the most expensive tickets in the tournament.
The secondary market compounds the problem. FIFA's official resale platform takes a 30 percent cut — split between buyer and seller — meaning fans lose a third of every transaction to the governing body. Under pressure, FIFA introduced a limited number of tickets priced around $60 for all 104 matches, but the gesture did little to repair public sentiment.
Transportation costs have added another layer of exclusion. A return train ride from Manhattan to MetLife Stadium in New Jersey had been priced at $150 — more than eleven times the standard fare. After public outcry and pressure from New Jersey's governor, the price was reduced by 30 percent to $105, still far beyond the ordinary cost.
FIFA president Gianni Infantino defended the pricing at a conference in Beverly Hills, arguing it reflects the broader US sports market and that artificially low prices would simply be absorbed by scalpers. The logic holds economically, but it offers little to fans who cannot afford either price. What has emerged is a tournament that, for all its national fanfare, is quietly being shaped around corporate buyers and affluent attendees — leaving ordinary citizens to watch from home.
President Trump said this week he wouldn't pay a thousand dollars to watch the United States play Paraguay in the opening match of the 2026 World Cup, even though he'd like to be there. When a reporter from The New York Post told him fans were facing that price tag for the June 12 game in Los Angeles, Trump said he hadn't known the number was that high. "I would certainly like to be there, but I wouldn't pay it either, to be honest with you," he said.
The World Cup begins June 11, and the US, co-hosting with Canada and Mexico, will kick off their campaign in Los Angeles the next day. It's the first Group D match, and it's become a flashpoint in a broader argument about who gets to attend the tournament. FIFA has drawn sharp criticism for pricing strategy that breaks from tradition. Rather than charging a flat rate for all group-stage matches, the organization priced tickets based on how popular it thought each team would be. Paraguay, a smaller draw than the US, would presumably command lower prices—but the US opener is among the most expensive tickets available.
The pricing structure extends beyond the initial sale. FIFA's official resale platform charges a 30 percent fee on every transaction—15 percent from the buyer, 15 percent from the seller. This means fans trying to buy or sell tickets on the secondary market lose a third of the transaction value to the governing body. After widespread backlash, FIFA did introduce a limited number of cheaper tickets priced at 45 pounds, or roughly $60, for all 104 matches in the tournament. But the damage to public perception had already taken hold.
Trump framed the pricing problem in terms of his own political base. "If people from Queens and Brooklyn and all of the people that love Donald Trump can't go, I would be disappointed," he said. He acknowledged the tournament would be a success regardless, but expressed frustration that working-class supporters might be priced out. "I would like to be able to have the people that voted for me to be able to go," he added.
FIFA president Gianni Infantino defended the costs at the Milken Institute Global Conference in Beverly Hills, arguing that ticket prices align with other major US sporting events. He also pointed out that in America, tickets can be resold, which means if FIFA priced them too low, the secondary market would immediately inflate them. "If you were to sell tickets at the price which is too low, these tickets will be resold at a much higher price," Infantino said. The logic is economically sound but offers little comfort to fans who can't afford either the original or resale price.
Transportation costs have compounded the accessibility problem. A 30-minute train ride from Penn Station in Manhattan to MetLife Stadium in New Jersey, where some World Cup matches will be held, had been priced at $150 for a return fare—more than eleven times the usual $12.90 cost. After public outcry and intervention by New Jersey Governor Mikie Sherrill, who asked transit officials to find private sponsorships and other funding sources, the price was reduced by 30 percent to $105. Kris Kolluri, the chief executive of New Jersey Transit, said he was pleased to bring the cost down, though it remains substantially higher than normal.
The pattern is clear: the 2026 World Cup, hosted in North America for the first time, is being priced for affluent fans and corporate buyers. Working-class supporters, particularly those in the metropolitan areas where matches will be held, face a compounding series of costs—tickets, resale fees, transportation—that effectively locks them out. Trump's complaint, however politically motivated, touches on a real tension: a tournament meant to be a national celebration is becoming one that many ordinary citizens cannot afford to attend.
Citas Notables
I would certainly like to be there, but I wouldn't pay it either, to be honest with you.— President Donald Trump
If you were to sell tickets at the price which is too low, these tickets will be resold at a much higher price.— FIFA President Gianni Infantino
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why does FIFA price tickets differently for different teams? That seems designed to exclude people.
It's a revenue strategy. They assume Paraguay fans will travel less and spend less, so they price those tickets lower. The US opener is a premium event—huge audience, high demand. They're extracting maximum value from each match.
But then they take 30 percent on resale. That's not just pricing—that's a tax on the secondary market.
Exactly. It's a double extraction. FIFA gets the initial sale, then skims a third off every ticket that changes hands. If you buy from someone else, you're paying FIFA again.
Trump said he wouldn't pay it. Does that matter?
It matters because it validates what ordinary fans are already saying. When the president of the country hosting the tournament says the price is unreasonable, it becomes harder for FIFA to defend. But Infantino's argument—that this is normal for US sports—isn't wrong. The problem is that makes it a US problem, not a FIFA problem.
What about the train fare reduction? Does that fix anything?
It helps, but it's a band-aid. They reduced it 30 percent and it's still eight times the normal price. The real issue is that every layer of access—tickets, resale, transportation—has been monetized. There's no path to affordability anymore.
So who actually gets to go?
People with money. Corporate clients. International tourists. Not the working-class fans from Queens and Brooklyn that Trump mentioned. That's the real story—a World Cup in America that most Americans can't afford to attend.