By: R.Jsai Dhanyaa Laaxmi Naidu
KUALA LUMPUR, June 23 (Bernama) -- Expanded from 32 to 48 teams, it now features 104 matches across 16 cities in three host nations, namely the United States, Canada and Mexico.
It is the longest and geographically widest World Cup in history, stretching from Vancouver all the way to Mexico City.
For some teams, the journey to the final could mean travelling distances comparable to crossing half the planet.
This is football at its biggest.
The biggest stadiums. The widest stage. The largest audience. It is on track to become one of the most-watched sporting events in history.
And maybe that is why it feels impossible to ignore.
But what makes the World Cup extraordinary has never been the scale. It is what happens because of it.
The Scots, for example, practically drank Boston dry. The Tartan Army flooded the city in such overwhelming numbers that bars reportedly struggled to keep up with demand, turning streets into an extension of Glasgow.
Their chants, kilts and bagpipes transformed the city into a sea of blue.
The Norwegians brought their now viral “Viking row” chants into New York subways and Times Square, celebrating their return to the World Cup after nearly three decades with a joy so infectious it felt impossible not to stop and watch.
The Dutch turned streets orange as they always do, once again proving that no one commits to football culture quite like them.
The Japanese brought something they have become famous for globally, which is discipline in celebration. Even after emotional matches, fans were seen cleaning stadiums, reminding the world that support can look like respect, too.
Then there is Cabo Verde, a small island nation off the west coast of Africa and home to just over half a million people. A country that many casual fans probably could not point to on a map before this tournament.
And suddenly, they have a global spotlight.
For the first time in their history, they earned World Cup points. Much of the spotlight fell on veteran goalkeeper Josimar José Évora Dias, who is more popularly known as Vozinha. His fearless “saves” made him one of the breakout figures of the tournament.
At 40 years old, in a sport obsessed with youth, he stood his ground and defended his goal like his life depended on it.
That is the thing about the World Cup.
It puts countries on the map in ways politics and tourism campaigns often cannot.
In Kansas City, Algerian supporters lit up entire districts with flares and chants. In Mexico, South Korean fans embraced locals like family. Cabo Verde supporters danced alongside police officers. Curaçao fans had strangers, pilots and even flight attendants dancing with them.
For a few weeks, everyone belongs to everyone.
And for the smaller countries, it can mean even more.
According to analysis cited by the World Economic Forum, the 2026 tournament could contribute more than US$40 billion to global GDP and support hundreds of thousands of jobs worldwide. Football’s biggest competition has become one of the world’s biggest economic engines.
And sometimes, researchers say, that joy may even ripple into everyday life.
The so-called “World Cup baby boom” has become one of football’s most enduring myths, but there is some evidence behind it.
Researchers have documented localised spikes in births after major football victories — including a reported 16 per cent rise in births in parts of Catalonia after Barcelona’s 2009 Champions League triumph and over 1,000 additional births in South Africa following the 2010 World Cup.
Scientists caution that these patterns are inconsistent and difficult to prove universally. But the idea persists for a reason.
Because the World Cup does not just create winners.
It creates moments so powerful they stay with people long after the final whistle.
And maybe that is why, somewhere between the chants, the dancing, the heartbreak and the celebrations, I finally understood the hype.
I have found myself rooting for countries I barely knew existed. Staying up for matches with no national stake or “my team” in sight. Feeling genuine joy for strangers halfway across the world.
Maybe the World Cup was never just for football fans.
It’s the entire world gathering in one place, carrying their flags, languages, songs and heartbreaks into the same stadiums and streets.
There is something strangely beautiful about watching nations that may disagree politically or economically, but coexist even if it's just for 90 minutes.
After everything the world has been through, from health crises to multiple wars and natural disasters, there is something comforting about that.
--BERNAMA
