When the World Came to America

The World Cup turned out to be a much bigger event in the United States than many Americans expected.

That was true inside the stadiums, where the crowds were enormous and the games often dramatic. But some of the most interesting stories happened outside the stadiums.

For several weeks, American cities were filled with visitors wearing national colors, singing songs, carrying flags, and celebrating a sport that much of the world follows with a passion Americans usually reserve for football, baseball, or basketball.

The World Cup was about soccer known as football in the rest of the world.

But it was also about what happened when much of the world came to visit.

Many international fans arrived with impressions of the United States shaped by news reports, movies, social media, and politics. Some expected Americans to be distant, divided, or even unwelcoming.

What many discovered instead was a country full of people willing to offer directions, recommend restaurants, discuss the games, share a meal, or simply strike up a conversation. Visitors repeatedly commented on the friendliness of Uber drivers, hotel workers, restaurant employees, and ordinary people they met along the way.

They also discovered some of the small things Americans take for granted.

Free refills.

Huge food portions.

Barbecue.

Ranch dressing.

Stores open late.

Ice in almost everything.

Some of those discoveries became running jokes on social media. Others became genuine expressions of surprise and delight. Visitors came for soccer and went home talking about chicken wings, helpful strangers, unexpectedly friendly cities, and experiences that did not match the America they thought they knew.

The fans also gave Americans a glimpse of how differently much of the world experiences soccer.

One of the tournament’s most memorable spectacles came from Norway’s supporters. Their synchronized “Viking Row,” with crowds sitting together and pretending to pull the oars of a giant boat, spread through stadiums, bars, restaurants, and public spaces. It was slightly ridiculous, completely joyful, and almost impossible not to watch.

It also helped turn Norway into one of the sentimental favorites of the tournament.

That may have been one of the larger surprises.

The traditional soccer powers still dominated much of the competition, and one of them eventually took home the trophy. But the smaller countries did not always behave like small teams.

Cape Verde, Curaçao, the Democratic Republic of Congo, Morocco, and others showed that talent, discipline, and ambition are spread much more widely than the old soccer hierarchy sometimes suggests. Cape Verde and Congo reached the expanded knockout stage, while several underdogs pushed much larger nations harder than expected.

The giants still won many of the important games.

They simply had to work harder for them.

The crowds watching from home were another reminder of the World Cup’s reach.

Across Europe, Africa, Asia, and Latin America, people gathered in public squares, restaurants, parks, and fan zones. Some matches took place in the middle of the night or early in the morning in the countries whose teams were playing, but that did not stop thousands from gathering together.

Outdoor screens and public viewing areas became temporary community centers. People who had never met stood together wearing the same colors, singing the same songs, and reacting to every goal as if they were inside the stadium.

That may be what made this World Cup feel so different from most American sporting events.

The game was important, but the gathering was just as important.

The World Cup did not simply bring soccer to the United States. It brought the habits, traditions, humor, food, music, and national pride that surround the sport everywhere else.

For a few weeks, America did not just host games.

It hosted the world.

And by most accounts, the world liked what it found.

That may be worth remembering when Los Angeles hosts the Summer Olympics in 2028.

The sports will be different, the visitors will be different, and the event will be centered in one region rather than spread across a continent. But the larger question will be much the same.

Will visitors leave with the same impression—that Americans are friendly, curious, generous, and glad they came?

Medals and records will determine who wins the Olympics.

The way visitors are treated may determine what they remember about us.