As an English girl, I have always had a complicated relationship with international football. Growing up in a household where both parents were avid England supporters, more often than not I would find myself coming downstairs at ungodly hours of the night to watch yet another squad stumble at the last hurdle of the World Cup or the Euros — even if I hadn’t been particularly interested in the tournament beforehand.
The international football season is one of the rare times every few years where I am able to take pride in my country. Our collective pipe dream that the trophy is “coming home” is a powerful uniting force. But, as my mum always says; “It’s the hope that kills you” when it comes to England’s men’s team competing on the world stage.
The cycle of hope and disappointment surrounding our every campaign is intoxicating. The English team, while not always successful, offer a sense of community without compromise in a country increasingly divided in recent years by Nigel Farage’s racist dog-whistles and Tommy Robinson’s clickbait racism. Their rhetoric only renders a diverse squad representing us on the global stage all the more powerful; players like ‘Starboy’ Bukayo Saka, Marc Guehi, and Eberechi Eze are a reminder that England is a country steeped in collaboration and inclusivity.
Football has always been a pathway to community. That’s what I love about it. Getting together to watch a game with a few friends or family members, even if you aren’t at the stadium itself, creates a unique kind of camaraderie, as everyone bands together to support a team they may not have even been aware of a few minutes ago.
There is a particular brand of hope fostered amid chants and children lifted onto shoulders — a hope for a better world. For many teams competing at the World Cup this year, this notion is more important than ever. Bosnia and Herzegovina’s national team are competing in their second-ever FIFA World Cup in 2026, an achievement made possible by the gradual rebuilding of the country’s sporting infrastructure in the decades following the Bosnian War.
The goal which resulted in Italy’s shock defeat and took Bosnia and Herzegovina to the tournament was scored by dual-national Esmir Bajraktarević, and it echoed throughout the entire country. Emir Suljagić, head of the Srebrenica Memorial Center, took to X to remind the world that:
The legacy of football is one of freedom, community, and hope, and it is one especially powerful in a country like Bosnia and Herzegovina, which has had its people scattered and its image shattered. Football matches are one of the few places in this incredibly fraught world, where, for ninety minutes, one can still believe, with religious zeal, in miracles.
I think this is why the 2026 FIFA World Cup, hosted in North America but primarily in the United States, feels so empty. Playing a game founded on togetherness, in a nation which tears families apart using ICE and deports people to nations they have no connection to, feels contrary to what the World Cup is supposed to represent.
The World Cup has always been about exchange between fans, but dynamic ticket pricing and overpolicing of the nation’s borders has hugely limited who can get involved. There is an atmosphere of hostility hanging over the event, as the Iranian national team continues to compete despite concerns for their safety amid the ongoing Iran war. Furthermore, Somali referee Omar Artan was denied entry to the US after his visa and diplomatic passport were rejected due to allegations of involvement with terror organisations.
And yet, people will still gather, in their homes, in packed pubs and in stadiums across countless nations, to believe, just for a moment, that things could be different. Maybe it could come home for England this year. Maybe Bosnia and Herzegovina will continue to rise despite extreme adversity. Maybe your favourite player will score that incredible equaliser right at the last second.
It is important that we hold this dogged hope close to our chests, despite the hollowness of a world steeped in morally corrupt politicians and nihilism. Football’s greatest achievement lies not in statistics, or in its revenue, but in its endurance, and in its ability to convince us that a better future is possible.
“Mexico city Estadio Azteca estadio banorte fifa world cup 2026 1” by Arne Müseler is licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0.