The 2026 World Cup is officially in the books. Years of buildup and anticipation, five weeks of play and 104 total matches delivered Spain its second men’s global title.
Ferran Torres scored the extra-time winner in a final against Argentina that won’t be remembered as a classic, although soccer eventually prevailed over anti-soccer.
This was the biggest World Cup in history, the most watched edition there has ever been and the one that will bring in the most revenue—around $15 billion in FIFA’s pocket.
These are five things we’ll be taking away from it.
Three Co-Hosts Is O.K.
This was the first time that more than two countries had shared hosting duties at a World Cup, and it worked. The only previous example of co-hosting in a men’s competition came in 2002 in South Korea and Japan—this time, it was three.
It dilutes the hosting experience in one sense, but opening up the tournament brought more character and culture to the World Cup, as each host nation added something a little bit different. It probably also makes it more financially appealing to prospective bidders in the long term.
Although the travel distances are obviously far greater—Bosnia and Herzegovina went from Toronto, to Los Angeles, to Seattle in the group stage alone—there is now a precedent for triple hosting.
In 2030, it will be more of the same as Spain, Portugal and Morocco jointly welcome the soccer world. Those three countries occupy a much smaller geographic area than what we’ve witnessed in 2026, but that’s not to say there won’t be mega travel demands on certain teams early on.
With the next World Cup being the centenary edition, three matches will also be played in South America—in Uruguay, Argentina, and Paraguay—to recognize the history of the continent in the World Cup story and pay tribute to the CONMEBOL federation.
48 Teams Felt Like Too Many
It was a major point of contention from the moment it was confirmed to be happening. There were more teams, more games, than ever before and that didn’t necessarily feel like a good thing.
Make no mistake, it was great to see some countries involved either for the first time ever, or just the first time in a long time. Africa had literally twice as many qualifiers than in 2022, and Oceania at last was given an automatic spot all to itself. There were even some great stories within that, as the whole world got behind Cabo Verde on its unexpected journey to the knockouts.
After a marathon group phase, in which only 16 teams were eliminated, too many matches in the round of 32—the extra stage added for this World Cup—lacked much quality or jeopardy. Cabo Verde against Argentina was the standout moment, but that match could still have happened in a 32-team tournament because of dire Uruguay and Saudi Arabia performances in Group H.
Plenty of other teams made some sort of “history” by virtue of the opportunities created by the expanded tournament, rather than through organic sporting achievement—albeit still not Scotland. But of the eight third-place teams that were afforded a knockout berth, only Paraguay actually went any further than the first knockout round. The depth of quality doesn’t exist to make this worthwhile.
FIFA president Gianni Infantino, who has made expanding the World Cup his mission to appeal to smaller soccer nations in the likely hope of securing votes at the ballot box, is already openly weighing up taking the next World Cup to 64 teams, literally double the number from 2022. Mercifully, that wouldn’t add additional rounds and would actually serve to eliminate the complicated third-place rankings. But it would be 128 matches and potentially pushing towards six weeks of competition. Too much of a good thing is possible.
Too Much Politics
Soccer, so says FIFA, is supposed to be free from politics. In this World Cup, it never felt very far away.
From the problems created by the Trump administration’s controversial travel ban, which among other things denied Somali referee Omar Artan the opportunity of a lifetime; to the Iran saga; to Infantino’s willingness to listen to the U.S. President’s request to intervene over Folarin Balogun’s red card; to resurrected decades-old arguments about the Falkland Islands between Argentina and England, politics became intertwined with what should have been a celebration of sport alone.
After the final, Trump even awkwardly lingered on the trophy podium as Spain captain Rodri waited for the President to leave before hoisting the World Cup high. He was politely ushered away by Infantino, but it was symbolic of politics’ resurgent desire to wield sport.
This World Cup might be a product of its environment, but FIFA has work to do ahead of the next tournament in four years’ time to ensure that the soccer is the only talking point.
Legends Bow Out
For Cristiano Ronaldo and Lionel Messi, this was the last dance on the world stage.
Prior to this summer, both had been to five World Cups stretching back to 2006, a joint record in the men’s game they also hold with retiring Mexico goalkeeper Guillermo Ochoa.
Ronaldo will be 45 in 2030, Messi will turn 43 while the tournament is in progress. It’s all but certain neither will be there, despite the lure of playing a World Cup at least partially on home soil.
Ronaldo’s tease that he expects to hang up his boots for good in 2027 and Messi’s tears as he scanned the scene at MetLife Stadium once the final was over suggest both know it won’t happen. Sadly for Messi, he won’t even have the next four years to bask as the World Cup’s all-time leading goalscorer, after Kylian Mbappé took his record in the third-fourth playoff.
For others, 2026 might also have been a last World Cup. England captain and 2018 Golden Boot winner Harry Kane hasn’t ruled out 2030, but due to turn 37 in July 2030, there are major uncertainties. Son Heung-min, Romelu Lukaku, Kevin De Bruyne, Thibaut Courtois, Manuel Neuer, Mohamed Salah, Casemiro, Neymar, Virgil van Dijk, Sadio Mané, James Rodríguez, Luka Modrić and Raúl Jiménez are all legends of their respective countries and probably won’t be back.
Securing a Legacy for North American Soccer
Speaking while the tournament was still ongoing, Kevin Blue, CEO of Canada Soccer said: “The World Cup in 2026 was always positioned to be a catalyst, not a finish line.”
It’s not quite the same issue for Mexico, where soccer is king. But hosting the World Cup for countries like Canada and the United States, where soccer is not religion, is not just about five weeks one summer. The picture is much bigger.
And while the Premier League and La Liga are immensely popular with North American audiences because of the incredible access through television, what impact will there be on interest in domestic leagues like Major League Soccer, the United Soccer League and the Canadian Premier League?
The latter averaged just under 4,000 fans per game in 2025. MLS is booming in certain markets because of the Messi factor, but not others. Vancouver Whitecaps and CF Montréal remain vulnerable.
There is also the impact on the next generation of potential players. We often heard during the World Cup that, had the best athletes in the United States—like LeBron James, Lamar Jackson, Aaron Judge—chosen soccer over other sports, the nation would dominate the game.
So, what is the plan to get young kids excited about playing soccer and not lured away by other sports? At least part of the issue is cost. Youth soccer works different in the U.S., where ‘pay to play’ models could see families spend hundreds or even thousands of dollars per child per year. It’s exclusionary and can make it hard for players to remain involved.
