The identity of the worst performers at the men’s World Cup has come as no surprise. In the lead-up to the tournament, the world had seen more than enough of Donald Trump and Gianni Infantino in action to fear the worst once the games actually began. Mr Trump’s lobbying of Fifa to lift a one-match ban on the United States’ star striker confirmed that his bullying will-to-power extends to spheres that he neither cares about nor understands. Mr Infantino’s craven willingness to accommodate it has been an affront to sporting integrity.
From prohibitive ticket prices to the introduction of advertiser-friendly hydration breaks – conveniently replicating the lucrative four-quarter format common in US sports – there have been plenty of other reasons to question Fifa’s overly commercialised stewardship of the beautiful game. But the World Cup still delivers a unique spectacle, as anyone who marvelled at the heroic exploits of Cape Verde, or witnessed Scottish fans’ good‑humoured invasion of Boston, can testify.
