Despite the USMNT's toothless knockout from the tournament following a whole slew of drama, this World Cup was a success.
On the field, the team played three truly exceptional games: not just winning vs. Paraguay, Australia, and Bosnia, but dominating on and off the ball and demonstrating a talent level none could match in a way that no US men's team has ever been able to do before.
Though they might have been outclassed on the day against Belgium and suffered a defeat in a way that no other team did in the Round of 16, those three games are proof that this wasn't for nothing. There is room to grow, and plenty of dice rolls on talent to take before the 2030 World Cup.
Off the field, success reached new levels.
This was the first men's World Cup hosted in the United States in 32 years. The first since establishing our first true time-tested league. The first time in recent history that games were on during prime-time hours in the country.
The tournament was during the summer when celebrations and watch parties could spill from bars and living rooms to streets and parks and patios. This was the first time, under all those conditions, where social media was truly ubiquitous, streaming made games accessible anywhere and mainstream attention could fully focus on the tournament in ways that never happened before.
Most importantly, the impact was local, too. I like to think I'm about as in tune as someone can be with American soccer: I follow my MLS team and the rest of the league, I attend matches in New England in the USL Championship and League One, I watch and travel to watch my college town's own Vermont Green.
That kind of focus sometimes puts me inside a bubble of soccer-mad folks, and yet that bubble was burst in a way that showed me just how much this tournament changed things around me in a few short weeks. This is my sort of 'love letter' to the World Cup.
Occupying Space
When's the last time you went into a Dick's Sporting Goods, a Kohl's and found plenty of soccer gear? My local DSG, for the longest time, has been solely a proprietor of Liverpool, Messi, and Ronaldo jerseys. Maybe you'll find a Rose Lavelle or a Carles Gil jersey from time to time, or a few Manchester United kits.
During this World Cup, the stores in my area, just north of Boston, have exploded with soccer. It's not just those worldly teams. I'm seeing Revolution, Legacy, U.S. Men's and Women's National Team kits. Gotham, Washington Spirit, Barcelona, using more racks and shelves than ever.
Anecdotally, they're selling. Each time I've visited, the selection has dwindled or changed. Soccer is taking up literal space in retail in a way it just wasn't before.
It's not just in stores, though. At a local bar, Winter Hill Brewing Company in Somerville, you can often find Premier League games on over the weekend. They're a Nottingham Forest establishment (yes, that exists here in Massachusetts)!
This past month, though, if there is a World Cup match happening, it's on the TVs and people are watching. The patio – sometimes light on people who have opted to pack inside for the air conditioner – has been bustling for matches, eyes on a TV wheeled outside just to make sure there's enough space for everyone to watch.
Other places have made huge efforts to make sure there's ample room to watch the tournament. At Cisco Brewers in Seaport, a large screen is up above one of the box containers, playing every match. At Time Out Market near Fenway, the same. Remnant Brewing in Somerville had put up a screen in their own courtyard; they didn't have one before.
New Connections and New Sisters
"We're winning tonight, right?! What's your score prediction?" is something I've heard and asked a couple handfuls of times these past few weeks. People on the street are wearing more kits than ever before, and that only helps prompt conversation between folks that ordinarily might just mind their business on a random Tuesday.
Normally, I might see a Liverpool, a Real Madrid or a River Plate kit, but these days they are even more prevalent. Most prevalent: Red, white and blue. Even without words exchanged, a Bomb Pop or denim kit has elicited a couple finger points and salutes, with knowing glances that say 'I see you, I recognize you and I want to make sure you know I'm in on it with you.'
Soccer is the basis of conversation in the workplace these days, too. Though there are people who follow and talk about the sport during Champions League or just regular European league seasons, folks who ordinarily are outside the conversation have joined in on many levels. There's recognition that this sport is wildly popular in discussions over the closing down of nearby Summer Street so folks can line up for the commuter rail to Foxboro.
People who haven't seen the United States play soccer before have discussed games; amazed by Sergiño Dest's tricks, by Weston McKennie's dynamism. They've followed players on social media they'd never heard of before: Vozinha, Tim Payne, Michael Olise. There is real permeation.
That permeation expands to the people around me. At my barber shop – a place in the northern 'urbs of Boston run by a friendly Italian American been-here-for-generations type – soccer was on the TV for the first time ever. The couple of clients in there were chatting about the game against Bosnia that had happened the night before. Another first; Red Sox and Patriots reign here.
When it was my turn for a cut, we continued chatting about it. After every couple of statements, the barber would say something like "Yeah, I've only watched a few games and it's kinda boring to me" or "Now I'm kinda beginning to understand offsides and all the cards the more I've watched." Each time the conversation reached a natural end, he'd circle it back to soccer in a way that told me he's actually paying attention to the sport and tournament, but wasn't ready to admit to himself or others that he finds it interesting and fun, instead opting to lash out in a classic anti-soccer American way that many of us fans of the sport have come to find familiar.
Institutionalized hate of the world's game is deep-rooted and will take time to upend. Here, it's the immigrant's game, and the country's geopolitical and social policies over past decades have helped marginalize the culture of those from outside our country's bubble. Those walls will come down in time, and it's clear they're starting to.
Speaking of immigrants and visitors, one of the stories of this tournament is Scotland's takeover of New England. There's plenty of reporting on it already: Drinking Boston dry, coning statues, and evidently making it all around New England.
Editor's Note: I live in the North Shore. No idea how they ended up in Salem or in Essex of all places.
The lived experience is here, too. When I don't bring lunch to work, it often means a five-minute walk to Trader Joe's. On these short trips during the group stage of the World Cup (and even after), I'd see no less than a a full handful of Scots out and about, evidenced by kilts, kits, accents and usually an unfortunate sunburn.
At bars in the evening: Scots. On the trains: Scots. In our parks: Scots. They've all been incredibly friendly and fun, always willing to strike up a conversation about anything and everything, but particularly soccer.
Their presence and evident love for New England's largest city leaked into the general public's renewed enjoyment of the city and nightlife: Friends and coworkers would go out with the explicit purpose of finding Scottish people and spending time with them because of the party and joy they brought with them.
There's a general sentiment around the city of Boston that it's felt more alive, more fun than it has in years. I think I'd agree, and the facts back it up.
A mutual experience of culture and shared values led all the way from Boston to Glasgow, signing a declaration to become sister cities. Though sometimes symbolic, it is just one tangible example of this sport bringing two places on different sides of the world together to share in respect, sustainability, business and inclusivity.
Community Revitalization
Beyond the perceived increase of fun and general activity, the World Cup has breathed life into physical spaces in local communities.
In Medford, Tufts Square has been practically dead for as long as living memory. Across the street, a community pool and a park host activities during summer daylight hours. The square itself is littered with worn-down storefronts with windows that are never open, buildings in disrepair or just appear to be plain vacant.
A tobacco shop and a couple hair salons open seemingly rarely. A parking lot sits out front where the road used to cut straight through; now bending to slow traffic as it merges onto another road. Walking past, I've long imagined that the area could be a perfect hub of activity for the right businesses. It's made me sad thinking about what could be and how little care and attention it gets.
On a couple days this summer, it has shown life for the first time. One Saturday, while returning from a visit to a local pond, I approached while hearing activity. Loud latin beats played. A rack of jerseys was being sold, food in trays were sat on a table underneath an 8x8 shade tent. Dozens of folks were gathered outside, most repping Colombia as they prepared for their final group stage match vs. Portugal.
Parking lot turned party; something I had never imagined to happen.
When the weather is warm and the sky is blue, I commute home by bike from downtown Boston north. Along the way, I pass a turf baseball field, an urban mini-pitch, and a couple of different parks.
Sometimes, they're barren. Sometimes, a person or two might be on those urban plots.
This past month, they are being used and it's often soccer-focused. A lone player practicing, a couple kids on the baseball field, perfecting long balls and touches from shortstop to right field. After-work pickup games on the mini pitch and team practices in the parks. A few times, even on the local bike path, there's been families walking along, kids carrying or dribbling a ball, something that wasn't happening at a noticeable frequency before.
Soccer has given not only people but these spaces a bit of extra life.
Local and Organic Grown
Not too far from me, Somerville United FC has become the first team to represent the locality of which it is named after. Starting play just this past spring, they planted a seed just in time to capitalize on the extra eyes the World Cup has brought to our sport.
Their presence is larger than expected for a small, dense community: stickers all around town, partnering with local businesses, doing fan watch parties and having a surprisingly professional experience from a staffing, business and organizational view. This kind of preparation allowed them to claim the Mayflower Conference title in their first-ever American Premier Soccer League (APSL) season this spring.
The team continues to play games in various leagues throughout the summer and gets a bit of fan turnout, too, despite their newness. With the World Cup creating more fans, one hopes that additional eyeballs turn to local soccer as an outlet that's not only fun, but nearby and cheap-to-free in a similar way that college sports manage to do.
More eyeballs, ears and mouths have meant more questions. It's given me a chance to share stories of our homegrown successes.
When asked about players from New England, I've been able to tell the story of Matt Turner's unlikely rise to stardom and his historic league-best goalkeeping performance so far this season. I've been able to tell folks about Arlington's own Miles Robinson, Melrose's Frantzdy Pierrot representing Haiti and Esmir Bajraktarević's penalty to qualify Bosnia for the World Cup over Italy. I've been able to tell folks about Tajon Buchanan's skills and rise to the Canadian national team. After Vozinha showed the world who Cape Verde are, I've informed friends how New England is host to the largest population of Cape Verdean people outside the nation, and how there's even a Massachusetts club, Brockton FC United, with deep Cape Verdean roots and legacy.
"Boston has a team, right? How are they?" is a question I've been asked, too. The interest is an opportunity to create new fans, more community. I've been able to tell folks about the Revolution and how the Legacy just started up this year. How they were one of the final two clubs in the running to sign Alexia Putellas - two-time Ballon D'or winner and a global soccer icon.
I've seen smiles and frantic googling after talking about how the Revs are almost out of the woods on getting a new stadium near downtown Boston and accessible by many means over in Everett. How Rhode Island FC is accessible - by transit and economically - and has a gorgeous new riverside stadium. How friends from Maine have their own club with some of the best jerseys in the entire country that speak to their home, and a team to go along with it that plays the way Mainers would demand.
They see the excitement I show talking about Vermont Green and are shocked to find that teams in the fourth division of U.S. Soccer not only exist but can have incredible atmospheres, be standard bearers on how a team can represent its community in its ethics, its sports and its operations and that tickets are just plain affordable.
Sam Fromowitz
Unity and Identity
I'm proud of my values. I think most of us like to think we are, and that we are stewards – yet imperfect ones – of those American ideals such as liberty, community, connection, work ethic, and respect. The National Anthem has been a subject of contention for me in the last several years; not something I've necessarily been proud to sing, nor have wanted to because I'm not certain we, as a collective nation, are living up to those values to our international neighbors and partners.
The World Cup has been a chance to take that back. The way our team had come together and played leading into it and during, restored a sense of national pride.
Pride for the work they showed on the field. Pride for the way the nation came together, regardless of upbringing, outlook, and everything else. I wanted to sing. I had craved to feel like I could sing without discrediting myself, that I was singing because I felt proud to be represented by who I sung the words at.
I think a lot of other people probably felt this way too. It was a chance – even if for the moment – to reclaim the stars and stripes. For our stars on the field. Because they earned our stripes on the field.
In stadium, Take Me Home, Country Roads (or 'West Virginia', as Dest had thought) has become another anthem of the United States. I was initially a cynic. It may have been played as a way to satiate crowds during the oft-ired hydration breaks. As the tournament went on, though, it became kind of impossible not to smile, or even tear up a little bit, hearing it after each US win.
In a way, the song represents the entirety of America. It was conceived and written in Maryland while driving along Clopper Road (which, at the time was unpaved, windy and agricultural), though it reminded Bill Danoff and Taffy Nivert of the roads of their childhood growing up in the Berkshires of Western New England.
Blue Ridge Mountains and Shenandoah River both lyrically fit better than anything else the writers could come up with. Though they believed both these places to be in West Virginia, they were actually in Western Virginia. Even 'The radio reminds me of my home far away' isn't singularly placed. It's about WWVA, a West Virginia long-distance broadcast station that the authors of the song remembered listening to growing up in New England.
There are several interpretations of the song, but in truth, it boils down to a mutual experience of home and a setting that people all across the country can relate to, regardless of whether you live in West Virginia, Maryland, Massachusetts, Western Virginia or elsewhere. And I think that's exactly why when Country Roads came on, opposing fans always joined in. Our lives, regardless of place, have so many shared lived experiences and ways to help us relate to one another.
Sometimes, the radio reminds us of our home far away. The radio, here, is the broadcast call, English, Spanish, Arabic, German, Korean, French. Heard throughout the world, the World Cup making our communities vibrant of an energy romanticized of, fantasized of. One proven now not of a vapid nostalgia but a lived experience we can be reminded of in years to come.
A togetherness, of late, that has felt foreign; not only in our physical neighborhoods and barrios, but in our circles of contact and our sociopolitical lives. The world, the nation, our states and cities and neighborhoods; united. That's home. It's not so far away.
I'm not certain I've personally managed to make new fans out of all this talk and stories. The games themselves, though, have piqued interest, inspired more questions, and awareness has spiked. Only time will tell what long-term effects the 2026 World Cup will have had. For now, even for the short-term effects I've seen in my own small part of New England: growing the game temporarily and providing a sense of worldly unity – pushing everything social and economic and political aside in a way I've seldom experienced in my adult life – it was worth it.
Here's your call to action: This next week, watch a game or two. Go somewhere public, make a new friend. Invite someone to a game at your local team once leagues start up again. Compliment someone's jersey on the street. Help someone in need. Call a friend.
The World Cup will end on Sunday July 19. Efforts to grow the game and your community won't. I can't speak for a region or even a city. If I could, I'd say:
To World Cup 2026: Thank you. Love, Boston.
