Brazil's fans bring a carnival atmosphere to every city they play in
Every four years, the world pauses to watch a game, and in 2026 that pause will be longer, louder, and more inclusive than ever before. For the first time, three nations share the burden and the glory of hosting, while a field expanded to 48 teams invites countries that have never before stood on this stage. Against this backdrop of institutional change, two of the sport's defining figures prepare for what may be their final bow — a reminder that even the grandest tournaments are, at their core, about the passage of time.
- The tournament's expansion to 48 teams across three co-hosting nations is unprecedented, thrilling newcomers while alarming purists who fear the competition's quality will be stretched thin.
- Ronaldo and Messi both stand on the edge of history, potentially becoming the first men to appear at six World Cups — but every appearance now carries the weight of a farewell.
- Host nations carry a statistical advantage that history has also shown can collapse into humiliation, and Canada enters the tournament with no precedent to lean on at all.
- Latin American supporters are expected to dominate the atmosphere, from Argentina's metro-filling walls of noise to Brazil's traveling samba carnival and the storied gravity of the Azteca.
- Player bonuses reveal the tournament's economic fault lines — Germany's 2014 winners pocketed €300,000 each, while players from Cameroon, Ghana, and Nigeria were reportedly disputing sums in the low five figures.
- Even at the margins, the World Cup generates its own folklore — a New Zealand defender with fewer than 5,000 followers went briefly viral, and Scotland's squad packed Irn-Bru alongside their boots.
For those who don't follow football closely, the 2026 World Cup can feel like a conversation happening in another language. But this tournament offers more entry points than most.
The scale alone is worth noting. For the first time, three nations — the United States, Canada, and Mexico — are sharing hosting duties, and the field has grown from 32 to 48 teams. Countries like Cape Verde, Curaçao, Jordan, and Uzbekistan will compete at a World Cup for the first time. The final, held in New Jersey, will feature a halftime show in the Super Bowl mold, with Madonna, Shakira, and BTS.
Two of football's most celebrated players are likely making their exits. Ronaldo has confirmed this is his last World Cup; most observers believe Messi will follow suit. Both could become the first men to appear at six tournaments. Mexico's veteran goalkeeper Guillermo Ochoa, now 40, has also been selected for a sixth time.
Hosting has historically been an advantage — roughly one in four World Cups since 1930 has been won by the home nation. But the pressure is real: South Africa and Qatar both exited early, and Brazil suffered a 7-1 semifinal collapse on home soil in 2014. Mexico reached the quarterfinals in its two previous hosting stints; the US made the Round of 16 in 1994; Canada is doing this for the first time.
The atmosphere will be shaped by Latin American supporters above all. Argentina's fans are known for their overwhelming intensity; Brazil's bring samba bands and carnival energy. Mexico City's Estadio Azteca carries decades of football mythology — it hosted both Brazil's 1970 triumph and Maradona's Hand of God in 1986.
Off the pitch, the tournament reshapes daily life in different ways. Brazil's National Congress cancels sessions during matches; Rio is offering prizes for the best-decorated streets. Scotland, meanwhile, is allowing public-sector workers to take the day after the national team's opening match as leave.
Financial rewards for players differ dramatically. Germany's 2014 winners received €300,000 each. Players from Cameroon, Ghana, and Nigeria that same year were reportedly in disputes over bonuses in the low five figures — a disparity that reflects football's wider economic inequalities.
And then there are the small, human details that make tournaments memorable: a New Zealand defender with fewer than 5,000 Instagram followers briefly went viral after an Argentine influencer championed his obscurity. Harry Kane packs slippers. Jude Bellingham brings Uno cards. And Scotland's Andy Robertson once surprised his teammates with goodie-bags of Irn-Bru — a small, fizzy taste of home carried across the world.
The World Cup is coming, and if you're not the sort of person who lives and breathes football, the conversation around it can feel impenetrable. But the 2026 tournament offers plenty of entry points for the casual observer—angles that don't require you to know the offside rule or have a favorite team.
Start with the sheer scale of what's about to happen. For the first time in the competition's history, three nations are sharing hosting duties: the United States, Canada, and Mexico. The tournament itself has been expanded from 32 teams to 48, meaning more matches than ever before. This expansion has drawn criticism from purists who worry the quality will be diluted, but it's opened the door for countries like Cape Verde, Curaçao, Jordan, and Uzbekistan to compete at the world's biggest football stage for the first time. The final will take place in New Jersey and will feature a halftime spectacle modeled on the Super Bowl, with performances from Madonna, Shakira, and BTS.
Two of football's greatest living players are likely playing their last World Cup. Cristiano Ronaldo has already confirmed this will be his final appearance. Many observers believe Lionel Messi, whose Argentina won the tournament in 2022, will also be bowing out. Both could make history by becoming the first male players to appear at six World Cups. Mexico's goalkeeper Guillermo Ochoa, now 40, has also been selected for a sixth tournament, though his path to the pitch has been less consistent.
Hosting a World Cup traditionally confers an advantage—roughly one in four tournaments since 1930 have been won by the nation staging it. But recent history suggests the pressure can be crushing. South Africa in 2010 and Qatar in 2022 both exited early. Brazil, hosting in 2014, suffered a catastrophic 7-1 semifinal loss to Germany. Mexico has fared better in its previous hosting stints, reaching the quarterfinals in both 1970 and 1986. The United States made the Round of 16 in 1994. Canada is hosting for the first time, with all the uncertainty that entails.
The atmosphere will be shaped heavily by Latin American supporters. Argentina's fans are known for their intensity and passion—BBC Sport's chief football writer Phil McNulty recalls thousands of them snaking through metro stations in Qatar, creating a wall of noise. Brazil's supporters bring something different: a carnival atmosphere that travels with the team, complete with samba bands and rhythmic celebration. Mexico City's Estadio Azteca carries its own weight of history—it hosted Brazil's 1970 World Cup victory and Diego Maradona's infamous "Hand of God" goal in 1986. If England reaches the Round of 16 and plays there, the experience will be unforgettable.
In Brazil, the World Cup reshapes daily life. The National Congress adjusts its schedule around match times, sessions are canceled during games, and working hours are shortened so people can watch. Streets fill with flags, public spaces are painted in national colors, and Rio de Janeiro's city government is offering prizes for the best-decorated streets. Scotland has taken a different approach: public-sector workers, including NHS employees and staff from five councils, will be allowed to take June 15th off—the day after Scotland's opening match against Haiti.
Financial incentives for players vary wildly between nations. Some countries offer bonuses for appearances, others for advancing through the tournament, and some use a combination. Germany's association is notably transparent: the 2014 winning squad each received 300,000 euros. But not all nations can match that generosity. In 2014, players from Cameroon, Ghana, and Nigeria found themselves in disputes with their national authorities over bonus payments that were reported to be in the low five figures.
More than a dozen of the tournament's managers have previously played in a World Cup themselves. Most are coaching the same nations they represented, though there are exceptions—Mauricio Pochettino is leading the United States despite having played for Argentina. And then there's the unlikely social media story: Tim Payne, a New Zealand defender, was dubbed the tournament's "least-known" footballer with fewer than 5,000 Instagram followers. An Argentine influencer named Valen Scarsini launched a campaign to boost his profile, turning obscurity into a minor viral moment. Meanwhile, England and Scotland players have revealed their own travel quirks—Harry Kane packs slippers, Jude Bellingham brings Uno cards, and Declan Rice once brought an extra bag hoping to fill it with a trophy. Scotland's Andy Robertson surprised his Euro 2020 teammates by packing goodie-bags of Irn-Bru, the fizzy orange drink that tastes like home.
Notable Quotes
Ronaldo has confirmed that this will be his final outing on the global stage— Cristiano Ronaldo
Argentina's supporters create thousands of passionate fans snaking in long, noisy lines into and out of metro stations— Phil McNulty, BBC Sport chief football writer
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why does it matter that three countries are hosting together? Doesn't that just make logistics harder?
It's never been done before, so there's a novelty factor. But more importantly, it changes the geography of the tournament. You've got matches spread across North America in a way that's fundamentally different from a single-nation host. It also means 48 teams instead of 32—that's a lot more football, which some people love and others think dilutes the competition.
Ronaldo and Messi both playing their last World Cup—is that actually confirmed?
Ronaldo has confirmed it. Messi hasn't officially said it's his last, but given his age and the fact that Argentina just won in 2022, most people think this will be it for him. The possibility that both of them could play their sixth World Cup is genuinely historic.
What's the deal with host nations struggling lately?
There's real pressure. You're expected to perform in front of your own fans, your own media, your own government. Brazil in 2014 got demolished 7-1 by Germany in the semis—that's the kind of thing that haunts a nation. South Africa and Qatar both went out early. It's not automatic that hosting helps anymore.
Why do people care so much about the atmosphere in Mexico City?
Because that stadium has seen some of the most iconic moments in World Cup history. Brazil's greatest team played there in 1970. Maradona's Hand of God happened there. It's not just a place to play; it's a place where history lives. When you play there, you're playing in that shadow.
The bonus payment disparities—that seems unfair.
It is. Germany can offer 300,000 euros to each player on the winning squad. Some African nations were offering five-figure sums and their players ended up in disputes with their own federations. It reflects the economic reality of global football—some associations have deep pockets, others don't. But it also means players from poorer nations have less financial incentive, which is its own kind of inequality.
Who is Tim Payne and why does he matter?
He's a New Zealand defender who had almost no social media presence—fewer than 5,000 followers. An Argentine influencer decided to make him famous as a joke, and it actually worked. In a tournament dominated by Ronaldo and Messi, who have hundreds of millions of followers each, there's something charming about someone being the opposite of that.