The Bastardization of “Soccer”
Baya Ahmidatou, August 6 2026—
The 2026 FIFA World Cup has come to an end and it was one for the books. From the first ever 48 team format, to underdog stories and unexpected upsets, the reshaping of the tournament was apparent.
One thing this tournament will be forever remembered for is that this was the summer soccer tried to become American.
For decades, soccer has built its identity on something remarkably simple — ninety minutes of uninterrupted play. No commercial timeouts disguised as hydration breaks. No manufactured entertainment between halves of the game.
The atmosphere belongs to the supporters, whose chants and songs become as much a part of the spectacle as the match itself. Unlike many North American sports, soccer has traditionally resisted becoming a product of nonstop entertainment.
That is what made the 2026 World Cup feel so different.
Hosting 78 of the 104 matches of the tournament in the United States was always going to introduce a whole new audience to the sport, but at times the world cup felt less like soccer and more like a tournament trying so hard to adapt and appeal to American sports fans.
The focus was often shifted from preserving the traditions that make soccer unique to maximizing its entertainment value and advertising opportunities.
One of the aspects of the tournament that highlighted this shift were the cooling and hydration breaks. These breaks were called every 22 minutes, essentially turning the game into four quarters instead of two halves.
Officially, FIFA introduced this measure to “prioritise player welfare,” as they were expecting high temperatures. With temperatures soaring across several host cities, giving players a chance to cool down and rehydrate was a sensible precaution.
In a sport that traditionally offers few opportunities for commercial interruptions, these scheduled pauses became valuable advertising slots of the tournament. Every break provided broadcasters with a guaranteed window to air commercials, turning a welfare measure into a lucrative business opportunity.
According to the BBC, a 30-second advertisement during coverage on Fox Sports costs approximately between $200,000 and $300,000, while increasing to $750,000 played in the knockout stages.
With roughly eight commercials airing during each hydration break, those stoppages generated an estimated $250 million in advertising revenue in the United States alone. Whether intentional or not, they created something soccer never really had: scheduled commercial breaks.
Every whistle reset the rhythm of the game. Pressing sequences were interrupted, momentum disappeared and managers were handed an extra tactical timeout.
The longer the game was stopped, the more it started to resemble the stop-start rhythm of American sports.
The introduction of the first ever FIFA World Cup halftime show marked another departure from soccer tradition.
The spectacle, co-headlined by Madonna, Shakira, Justin Bieber and BTS, ran for a total of 11 minutes and nearly doubled the regular intermission between both halves of play. The show also featured Chris Martin of Coldplay, Burna Boy, Gustavo Dudamel and a Staten Island elementary school chorus.
Criticism came quickly.
Beyond objections to the spectacle itself, several managers questioned the practical impact of extending the standard halftime where players had structured routines and traditions.
Nearly doubling that break risked disrupting those routines, allowing for players to cool down too much before returning to the pitch and potentially affecting both performance and injury risk.
For many supporters, the halftime show was an unnecessary solution to a problem soccer never had.
That shift in presentation was evident throughout the tournament. Instead of allowing supporter sections to create their own atmosphere through chants and songs, many stadiums were filled with constant music, fan-cam segments, celebrity appearances and crowd prompts designed to keep spectators engaged between passages of play.
Even the playing of the American national anthem during the final match — without featuring the anthems of co-hosts Canada or Mexico — made the tournament feel less like a celebration of the global game and more like an American sporting event in soccer jerseys.
Viewed individually, none of these elements ruined the World Cup. But together they painted a picture of a tournament increasingly shaped by television, sponsorship and spectacle.
The question wasn’t whether soccer could succeed in North America. It clearly can, with post-tournament polling showing soccer surging past baseball to become Canada’s second-favorite sport and record-shattering TV audiences cementing a massive new baseline of American fans. The question was whether, in trying to make soccer feel more American, the tournament lost some of what made the sport special in the first place.
This is an opinion piece. The views expressed are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of The Gauntlet or its editorial board.