For decades, soccer has been called "the beautiful game" for a reason. It connects people across borders, backgrounds, and languages. But as the 2026 World Cup approaches, that beauty is being overshadowed by something far uglier: obscene ticket prices that feel more like a cash grab than a celebration of sport.
As a performance coach who works with athletes and executives on aligning actions with values, I often ask a simple question: "If I take this step, will it be in alignment with my values?" Lately, I've been asking myself that same question about attending the World Cup in the United States.
Soccer has been part of my life since the late 1970s, when my father took me to watch the Memphis Rogues in the old North American Soccer League. I was hooked instantly. Over the years, I've been a player, coach, referee, and fan. The game has given me countless connections with people from all walks of life.
Just the other day, I had an unforgettable Uber ride with a driver from Cameroon. We talked about Roger Milla, the legendary striker for the Indomitable Lions. Another time, I shared a meal at a Colombian restaurant where the waiter and I bonded over Carlos Valderrama's incredible passing and dribbling. These moments remind me why soccer matters. In a world that feels increasingly divided, the sport still brings people together in unexpected and joyful ways.
But I'm sad to say I won't be attending the 2026 World Cup in my home country. The event is supposed to showcase soccer on a global scale and fuel the sport's growth in the United States. Instead, as recent headlines reveal, it's become an apparent cash grab from nearly every entity involved.
Ticket prices have skyrocketed beyond what most fans can afford. What should be an accessible celebration of the world's game now feels like an exclusive luxury for the wealthy. The very essence of soccer—its ability to unite people from all walks of life—is being priced out of existence.
When the World Cup becomes a playground for the privileged, we lose something fundamental. We lose the spontaneous conversations with strangers, the shared passion that transcends language, and the sense that this game belongs to everyone. For fans who have loved soccer their whole lives, that's a hard pill to swallow.