The fever was unmistakable across the city's streets
Every four years, the FIFA World Cup reminds the world that sport is one of humanity's oldest rituals of collective belonging — and in Kolkata, thousands of miles from the desert stadiums of Qatar, that truth is written in flags and light. The 2022 tournament, which opened on November 20 with 32 nations competing across 64 matches, carries unusual weight: it is the last of its kind in format, the first held in the Middle East, and almost certainly the final chapter for two of the game's most mythologized figures, Lionel Messi and Cristiano Ronaldo. A city decorates itself not merely for a sport, but for a moment it senses will not come again.
- Kolkata's streets transformed overnight into a festival of flags and giant screens, with Argentina's colors dominating as fans rallied around Messi's likely final World Cup campaign.
- The tournament's historical stakes are unusually high — this is the last 32-team edition, the first held in the Middle East, and a farewell stage for two generational icons whose careers have defined an era of football.
- Ecuador immediately disrupted expectations by defeating host nation Qatar in the opening match, the first time in 92 years a host has lost the tournament opener, signaling an unpredictable road ahead.
- Fan clubs like Kolkata's Argentina Football Fan Club have built communal viewing parks, turning passive spectatorship into active celebration and collective ritual.
- With France defending their 2018 title and Brazil, England, and Portugal all fielding strong squads, the knockout rounds promise fierce competition beginning December 3, building toward the Lusail final on December 18.
The streets of Kolkata changed almost without warning. Flags representing Argentina, Brazil, and a dozen other nations appeared on storefronts and lampposts. Cutouts of Messi and Maradona rose above intersections. Giant screens materialized at gathering points across the city. The FIFA World Cup 2022 had begun in Qatar, and in this corner of India, the fever was impossible to miss.
Thirty-two teams from five continents had assembled for 64 matches across 29 days, hosted in eight Qatari stadiums through December 18. At the Argentina Football Fan Club, a nerve center of the city's enthusiasm, member Pragnan Shah captured the mood plainly: the team was experienced, Messi was at his peak, and a fan park had been built so supporters could watch together. This was not mere viewing. It was celebration.
The tournament carried weight beyond the pitch. It was the last World Cup to feature 32 teams — the 2026 edition, hosted by Canada, Mexico, and the United States, will expand to 48 nations. It was also the first held in the Middle East, and the first moved outside the traditional June-July window, with Qatar's summer heat forcing FIFA to shift the event to November and December.
Two names loomed over everything. Messi, widely regarded as one of the greatest players in history, was almost certainly competing in his final World Cup. Cristiano Ronaldo, at 37, was likely making his last appearance for Portugal as well. For fans in Kolkata and across the world, this was a final chance to watch two titans on sport's grandest stage.
The opening match had already delivered a jolt: Ecuador's Enner Valencia scored twice to defeat host nation Qatar — the first time in 92 years of World Cup history that the opening match saw the host lose. The tournament, it was clear, would not follow a predictable script. Back in Kolkata, the flags and fan parks were more than decoration. They were proof that football, more than almost any other force, can gather strangers around a shared and fleeting moment.
The streets of Kolkata had transformed overnight. Flags hung from storefronts and lampposts—Argentina's light blue and white stripes, Brazil's green and gold, the crosses and crescents of a dozen nations. Cutouts of Lionel Messi and Diego Maradona towered over intersections. Giant screens had materialized at gathering points across the city. The FIFA World Cup 2022 had begun in Qatar on November 20, and in this corner of India, the fever was unmistakable.
Thirty-two teams from five continents had assembled in the desert for what would unfold as 64 matches over 29 days. Eight stadiums across Qatar would host the tournament through December 18. The Argentina Football Fan Club had become a nerve center of the city's enthusiasm. Pragnan Shah, a member of the club, explained the mood with the clarity of someone who had been waiting for this moment: the team was experienced, Messi was playing at his peak, and they had built a fan park to watch the matches together on a large screen. This was not mere spectatorship. This was celebration.
The tournament carried historical weight that extended beyond the pitch. This was the last World Cup that would feature 32 teams—the next edition, hosted by Canada, Mexico, and the United States in 2026, would expand to 48 nations. It was also the first time the Middle East had hosted the event, and the first time it had been held outside the traditional June-July window. Qatar's summer heat had forced FIFA to move the tournament to November and December, a scheduling shift that rippled across the global football calendar.
Two names hung over the tournament like a benediction and a question mark. Lionel Messi, Argentina's striker and widely regarded as one of the greatest players ever to touch a ball, was competing in what would almost certainly be his final World Cup. At 37 years old, Cristiano Ronaldo was likely to wear Portugal's colors one last time as well. For fans in Kolkata and across the world, this tournament represented a final chance to witness these two titans in the sport's grandest arena.
France arrived as defending champions, having claimed their second title in 2018 by defeating Croatia in the final. They now faced a field of world-class competitors hungry to dethrone them. The opening match had already delivered an upset: Ecuador's Enner Valencia scored twice to defeat host nation Qatar at the Al Bayt Stadium. It was a historic result—the first time in 92 years of World Cup history that the opening match had seen the host nation lose. Ecuador's victory sent a signal that the tournament would not follow a predictable script.
The competition was organized into eight groups of four teams each. Argentina shared Group C with Saudi Arabia, Mexico, and Poland. England, Iran, the United States, and Wales formed Group B. Brazil, the five-time champions, anchored Group G alongside Serbia, Switzerland, and Cameroon. The knockout stage would begin on December 3, with the final scheduled for December 18 at the Lusail Iconic Stadium.
Back in Kolkata, the decorations and fan parks were more than festive window dressing. They represented a global phenomenon—the way football, more than any other sport, had the power to unite strangers around a shared passion. In a city thousands of miles from Qatar, people had gathered to watch their heroes compete for the sport's highest prize. The tournament had only just begun, but already it had claimed the city's attention and imagination.
Notable Quotes
Argentina has an experienced team. Messi is playing really well. We are celebrating Football and FIFA World Cup. We will be watching matches on a giant screen and we have created a fan park here.— Pragnan Shah, member of Argentina Football Fan Club, Kolkata
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why does a World Cup in Qatar matter so much to people in Kolkata? It's not their country, not their region.
Football is the one language that doesn't need translation. When Messi plays, a shopkeeper in Kolkata feels the same electricity as someone in Buenos Aires. The World Cup is the moment when the whole world watches the same thing at the same time.
But this tournament is different, isn't it? The timing, the location—it breaks the pattern.
Yes. Moving it to November because of desert heat, hosting it in the Middle East for the first time—these are seismic shifts. And then there's the finality of it. Messi's last dance. Ronaldo's last bow. People know they're watching history close.
Ecuador beat Qatar in the opening match. Does that surprise you?
It should surprise everyone. In 92 years, no host nation had lost their opening game. But that's what makes tournaments alive—they refuse to be scripted. The underdog wins, the favorite stumbles, and suddenly anything feels possible.
The fan parks in Kolkata—are they just about watching, or is something else happening there?
They're about belonging. You're not alone in your hope or your heartbreak. You're part of something larger than yourself, even if you're thousands of miles away from the stadium.
What happens after December 18?
The tournament ends, the screens come down, the flags come off the streets. But something lingers. People will remember where they were, who they watched with, what they felt. That's the real prize.