In just eleven months, the United States will be under a more intense microscope than usual. The global soccer community will have their collective pupils glued to, not just the football, but equally, the sites and sounds of the FIFA World Cup being hosted on US soil for only the second time.

In something of a dress rehearsal, the reviews of the U.S.’s ability to effectively host the Club World Cup have been mixed. Clubs, and their supporters, who have gathered in the U.S. this summer from across the globe have scrutinized the States’ aptness to host a soccer tournament of such magnitude.

Between the “dangerous” heatwaves, the varying field conditions, the excessive travel, the overall interest in the sport, and an ever-changing social landscape due to the “tone at the top” – there has been an abundance of voiced concern.

On Sunday, however, some of that unease was nullified.

MetLife stadium in East Rutherford, New Jersey, played home to more than 81,000 fans spanning every color, race, creed, origin, ethnicity, and nationality imaginable. Barring a Luis Enrique hand to the face of João Pedro at the end of a World Championship match between PSG and Chelsea, problems not contained within the 115 by 75 yard plot of grass were muted for three hours.

The atmosphere: electric. The football: physical, yet aesthetically pleasing. And the celebration for the sport: enough to have you questioning if East Rutherford were picked up and dropped in Merseyside.

Say what you will about the FIFA Club World Cup tournament itself. It’s a competition, or at least an idea, that has been around in varying forms since the 19th century. But until this 2025 rendition, there had not been this much emphasis put on the tournament by FIFA. With additional teams added and markedly more prize money at stake, all participants appeared increasingly eager this time around to return to their home countries with their share of both monetary gain and brand recognition.

While much of the attention has been on the off-the field concerns, questions about the costs waged on the field were also present. Many participating clubs, including those from leagues not in the top five across the world, subjected their players to close to 70 competitive matches in a calendar year.

Chelsea’s headcoach Enzo Maresca becomes speechless after being told that Fluminense had over 70 games. He claimed that Chelsea would be in worse conditions since they played over 60 matches in the past 12 months.
byu/GrumpyRox insoccer

An endless world football calendar has taken its toll on players – that isn’t necessarily a new phenomenon. Yet, it was a tournament in which those same top players fought valiantly to earn the title of “World Champions.”

Maybe none more so than Cole Palmer of Chelsea, who has cemented himself as a top world talent over the last couple seasons. His two goals in the final sent a stadium, with more than a smattering of blue, into hysterics.

The celebration from not just Chelsea supporters, but many more, rang on ceremoniously well after the final whistle. Much of the stadium remained full as the players were awarded hardware, while “Freed From Desire” by GALA, which has become the ubiquitous anthem of world soccer, echoed from mouth to mouth in unison.

Relief

Like much of the rest of the international soccer community, I shared many of those same aforementioned concerns.

As an American, I’ve certainly had my doubts about our society’s ability to “behave” next summer when the real show is put on. And surely, I still have many reservations about the stress hosting a World Cup will put on a fraying socio-political environment.

Of course, successfully hosting one Club World Championship pales mightily to hosting the most popular sporting event in the world in 2026.

Even still, I feel a sense of relief. Not every single one of my concerns were quelled, nor will they be even after the final whistle next summer is blown. But, this level of championship – a spectacle being put on with few distractions – held in the face of all that is wrong in the world, is promising.

No reported deaths. No reported injuries. No reported ICE arrests.

The anxiety has wavered in part for now, not just from witnessing quality soccer being played on a temporary grass pitch covering notorious turf. Not just at the seemingly forced joint acceptance of an Americanized halftime show.

It was that – even with some interesting showmanship from some in attendance – from the first whistle, the only problems that mattered were each minute decision made by two managers and twenty-two players in an attempt to matriculate a sphere to and fro.

So much can happen before next summer arrives. There will almost certainly be some events in the next 340 days that will, again, have me questioning the US’s viability to put on the show as it was intended.

Call me naive, ignorant, or too optimistic. But, on Sunday where passion for soccer bubbled into unbridled jubilance amongst all involved is what gives me hope that the our country can come a little closer to meeting its potential than I had previously accounted for.

Especially when this song is playing on loop: