#BinancePickAndWin The most fascinating part of the World Cup isn’t actually just football.
It’s the “greatest common denominator” of global emotion that happens once every four years—no other tournament can make someone who doesn’t usually play the sport still be willing to get up at 3 a.m. to scream at a curling shot. The 2022 Qatar edition was especially special: Messi finally lifted the trophy, Ronaldo’s farewell, Mbappé’s hat-trick in the final—pushing “personal narratives” and “national-team romance” to nearly a two-decade high.
But the cracks of the past two tournaments are now obvious too: VAR has consumed some of the benefit of wrong calls, and the game’s “wildness” is missing a piece. When the World Cup expands to 48 teams across the U.S., Canada, and Mexico in 2026, watered-down group stages seem almost inevitable. FIFA may make more money, but the World Cup’s “sense of rarity” will be diluted—like switching from Michelin dining to a buffet: the quantity goes up, and the sense of ceremony goes down.
💡 My take: 2030 (the centenary World Cup, co-hosted by Spain, Portugal, Morocco, and Uruguay) will be the last “classic” form of the tournament—after that, it’ll be hard to talk about “purity.” While you still can, watch it a couple more times.
It’s the “greatest common denominator” of global emotion that happens once every four years—no other tournament can make someone who doesn’t usually play the sport still be willing to get up at 3 a.m. to scream at a curling shot. The 2022 Qatar edition was especially special: Messi finally lifted the trophy, Ronaldo’s farewell, Mbappé’s hat-trick in the final—pushing “personal narratives” and “national-team romance” to nearly a two-decade high.
But the cracks of the past two tournaments are now obvious too: VAR has consumed some of the benefit of wrong calls, and the game’s “wildness” is missing a piece. When the World Cup expands to 48 teams across the U.S., Canada, and Mexico in 2026, watered-down group stages seem almost inevitable. FIFA may make more money, but the World Cup’s “sense of rarity” will be diluted—like switching from Michelin dining to a buffet: the quantity goes up, and the sense of ceremony goes down.
💡 My take: 2030 (the centenary World Cup, co-hosted by Spain, Portugal, Morocco, and Uruguay) will be the last “classic” form of the tournament—after that, it’ll be hard to talk about “purity.” While you still can, watch it a couple more times.