I would certainly like to be there, but I wouldn't pay it either
Once every four years, the world's most beloved sport gathers nations under a single banner — but in 2026, that banner carries a price few can afford to stand beneath. FIFA's expanded World Cup, stretching across three North American nations, has become as much a story about economic exclusion as athletic celebration, with official ticket prices reaching nearly $34,000 and resale markets pushing into the millions. The tension between soccer's identity as a people's game and its transformation into a premium financial instrument is no longer a quiet irony — it has drawn in presidents, attorneys general, and transit authorities, each asking the same question in different registers: who, exactly, is this tournament for?
- FIFA tripled premium final ticket prices to $33,970 overnight, while the cheapest resale ticket for the same match sits at $7,734 — numbers that have turned fan outrage into a political flashpoint.
- Even President Trump said he wouldn't pay $1,000 to watch the U.S. opener, as CBS News found tickets for that same game listed above $45,000 on secondary markets.
- California's Attorney General has opened an investigation into potentially deceptive ticketing practices after FIFA reportedly sold seats based on one map, then reassigned locations under different categories.
- Transit systems are piling on — New Jersey Transit more than doubled fares to MetLife Stadium, Foxboro's train tickets jumped nearly fourfold, and Vancouver's mayor publicly refused FIFA's request for a police motorcade.
- Hotel occupancy in New York City is running 12 percent below last year's levels on World Cup match nights, suggesting the pricing strategy may be hollowing out the very crowd the tournament depends on.
FIFA President Gianni Infantino joked that if someone paid $2 million for a World Cup ticket, he'd personally hand-deliver their hot dog and Coke. The quip was meant to disarm the growing fury — instead, it read as indifference to a crisis of access that has now reached the highest levels of politics and law enforcement.
The 2026 World Cup, hosted across the United States, Canada, and Mexico, is the largest in history. FIFA expanded the field from 32 to 48 teams, generating 104 matches and projecting a record $10.9 billion in revenue. To capture that revenue, FIFA built its own official resale marketplace — and collects a 15 percent fee from both buyer and seller on every transaction. Last week, it tripled premium seat prices for the July 19 final at MetLife Stadium to $33,970. The cheapest ticket for that match on secondary markets: $7,734. Average group stage resale prices hover around $553.
The backlash has come from unexpected corners. President Trump said he wouldn't pay $1,000 to watch the U.S. face Paraguay in the tournament opener — a match where CBS News found tickets listed above $45,000. California Attorney General Rob Bonta sent FIFA a formal demand for answers after reports emerged that the organization had sold tickets based on one seating map, then quietly reassigned seat categories before delivering actual locations.
The costs don't stop at the turnstile. New Jersey Transit announced round-trip fares to MetLife would more than double to $33 for World Cup nights, citing the $48 million burden of running trains for eight matches. In Foxboro, fares to Gillette Stadium jumped from $20 to $75. Vancouver's mayor declined FIFA's request for a police motorcade for Infantino, promising only arrangements that were 'appropriate and measured.'
The financial pressure may already be reshaping attendance. New York City hotels are booking at roughly a third of capacity on match nights — about 12 percent below the same dates last year. Whether fans are priced out or simply uninterested remains an open question. What is not open is the contradiction at the heart of the tournament: a sport that built its global soul on accessibility is staging its grandest moment in a way that most of its most devoted followers cannot afford to witness.
FIFA President Gianni Infantino stood before reporters and made a joke about a $2 million World Cup ticket. If someone actually paid that price, he said, he would personally deliver them a hot dog and a Coke. The quip was meant to deflect criticism, but it landed differently—as a kind of shrug at the fury building among fans, politicians, and transit officials over the cost of attending soccer's biggest tournament.
The 2026 World Cup, which will be held across the United States, Canada, and Mexico, is the largest ever. FIFA expanded the tournament from 32 teams to 48, creating 104 matches and projecting a record $10.9 billion in revenue. But the financial windfall has come with a price tag that has shocked even wealthy fans. The official resale marketplace has become a secondary market unto itself, with FIFA collecting a 15 percent fee from both buyer and seller on each transaction. Last week, FIFA tripled the price of premium seats for the July 19 final at MetLife Stadium in New Jersey to $33,970. On secondary markets, the cheapest ticket available for that same final was listed at $7,734. Tickets for group stage matches averaged $553 on resale platforms as of mid-May.
The sticker shock has drawn pushback from unexpected quarters. President Trump, asked about paying $1,000 to watch the U.S. play Paraguay in the tournament opener at SoFi Stadium in Inglewood, California, on June 12, said he would not. "I would certainly like to be there, but I wouldn't pay it either," he told the New York Post. CBS News found tickets for that same match priced above $45,000 on secondary markets. California Attorney General Rob Bonta sent a letter to FIFA demanding answers about potentially misleading ticketing practices, after reports that the organization had sold tickets based on one seating map, then altered those categories before assigning actual seat locations.
The cost extends beyond the stadium gates. New Jersey Transit announced round-trip train fares to MetLife Stadium from Manhattan would be $33 for World Cup games—more than double the usual $13 fare. The transit authority argued that fans, not daily commuters, should bear the cost of transporting hundreds of thousands of additional riders over six weeks. CEO Kris Kolluri estimated the bill to run trains for eight World Cup matches at MetLife would reach $48 million. In Foxboro, Massachusetts, round-trip train tickets to Gillette Stadium jumped to $75, up from the typical $20 for concerts and Patriots games. Vancouver's mayor rejected FIFA's request for a police motorcade for Infantino, saying any arrangements would be "appropriate, measured, and consistent" with how the city normally hosts major events.
The pricing strategy appears to be having an effect. New data from the commercial real estate firm CoStar showed that several New York City hotels had only about a third of their rooms booked on World Cup match nights, roughly 12 percent below occupancy levels for the same dates the previous year. Whether the high costs are keeping fans away, or whether demand simply hasn't materialized as expected, remains unclear. What is clear is that FIFA's record revenue projection rests on a tournament that many of the people who love soccer most say they cannot afford to attend.
Notable Quotes
If some people put tickets for the final at $2 million, it doesn't mean that the tickets cost $2 million, and it doesn't mean that somebody will buy these tickets.— FIFA President Gianni Infantino
Commuters in New Jersey should not carry the cost years into the future for a wonderful event. But the fans who are going to the game should bear the burden of the cost.— New Jersey Transit CEO Kris Kolluri
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why would FIFA set prices this high when it seems to be backfiring?
Because they can. The tournament is a monopoly—there's only one World Cup every four years, and it's the biggest sporting event on Earth. They're testing how much the market will bear.
But the empty hotel rooms suggest the market isn't bearing much.
Right. That's the tension. FIFA projected record revenue, but they may have priced out the core audience—the people who actually follow soccer, who save money for years to attend. They're left with corporate buyers and speculators.
What about Infantino's hot dog joke? Was that tone-deaf?
It was dismissive. He was saying, essentially, "These crazy prices on resale don't reflect what we're charging." But that misses the point. Fans don't care about the distinction between official and resale. They see $33,970 for a seat and $7,734 as the cheapest option for the final, and they feel priced out.
Is this new for FIFA, or has pricing always been this aggressive?
This is the biggest tournament ever—48 teams instead of 32. FIFA is trying to maximize revenue from an expanded event. But the expansion also means more matches, more supply. You'd think that would lower prices. Instead, they've gone up dramatically.
What does it say that even Trump won't pay?
It's a signal. When a billionaire says the price is too high, it tells you something about how far FIFA has pushed. It's not about affordability for him—it's about principle. The price feels extractive.
Will this change anything?
The California AG is investigating. Transit authorities are pushing back. But FIFA controls the tournament. Unless there's real regulatory pressure or a boycott, they'll proceed. The revenue will still be record-breaking, even if attendance is lower than expected.