The World Cup Shows Americans Aren't Their Government
Imagine stepping out of your front door in the United States. You immediately hit the ground, dodging bullets. You’ve got your bulletproof bible, but a stray gets your shoulder. You’re not sure if your health insurance will cover a bullet wound, so you decide to walk it off.
Or rather, you drive it off in your monster truck—because walking and buses are for the poors.
Then you show up for work and put in a short 12-hour day, occasionally reminiscing about your last vacation five years ago to Señor Frogs in Cancún. And at the end of the day, you roll up to the closest McDonald’s for a light double cheeseburger and large fry with a jug of coke that could double as a helmet.
After all, fruits and vegetables are for pussies.
For many of my fellow Europeans, this is what people think life in the United States is like. But the World Cup, co-hosted by the United States alongside Mexico and Canada, is showing the world that—just like anywhere else—the people are not necessarily their government.
But is this real life? Or just sports washing a rogue nations’ abnormally orange balls?
World Cup Reality Check
The United States is a pretty horrid place to be, no matter whether you’re from there or a tourist. That’s at least the gist I get from the Internet—even from some of the comments I get on my YouTube channel. But the Internet is oftentimes just a loud microcosm of bitter, angry people who couldn’t experience joy if it smooched them right on the face.
Now if you’ve watched any number videos on the channel, then you know I am not the jingoistic, rah-rah-sis-boom-bah chest thumping type. I critique the U.S. heavily and often, from the car-dominated society that makes us sick to the American exceptionalism worldview that, in my humble opinion, holds us back from learning from other countries and cultures.
But I am always quick to defend the large majority of the American people, who continue to be some of the kindest, most welcoming people I meet on my travels around the world. Besides, they’re the ones suffering under the various societal ills for which we’re often criticized or laughed at by the rest of the world. Hans from Hamm isn’t the one suffering from a broken health care system, federally weaponized xenophobia, or the crime we’ve committed against pizza.
Now with the World Cup well into its second week, I think it’s safe to say that the world—especially Europeans—are finally starting to see the United States I mostly grew up with. I mean, just look at the reception some of these World Cup fans are getting. Cities aren’t just cheering on the U.S. They’re adopting the national teams playing in their cities.
And the response from visiting fans has been overwhelmingly positive, especially among Scotland’s legendary Tartan Army that drank Boston dry. But on an individual level, I don’t think anyone beats this guy from Japan.
“I don’t speak English,” he tells a reporter. “But… I’m excited!”
Me, too, tomodachi. Me, too.
Real America
None of this is particularly surprising to me. I grew up in the U.S., went to college there, lived in Chicago, and Cleveland before moving overseas—first to Costa Rica and then Germany where I’ve been the last 10 years. But even though I moved overseas and generally prefer my life here, I still go back at least once or twice a year to see family. And since I became fully independent after getting German citizenship, I’m able to travel more around the country, too.
In November, I traveled to the western Ozarks of Arkansas. I cycled, I ran around, I wrote a story about it. I had a lovely time with lovely people.
And last month, I re-visited my old neighborhood in Cleveland and I traveled around to national parks in Nevada and Utah with some city stops in Salt Lake City, Boise, and Portland. Again, met some wonderful, interesting people who’ve similarly traveled around the world, care about things I care about, and want to live a fulfilling life like most of us do.
The fact that people are just catching onto this through the World Cup shouldn’t be surprising, but that’s partly what these global events are good for—showing off the humanity behind a country and its people. Although I wish people would give Americans—the people, not the government—the benefit of the doubt, I don’t necessarily blame Europeans or the rest of the world for being skeptical of the U.S. full stop. We suffer from overwhelmingly negative perceptions of our own country, particularly with how right-wing media tends to portray more liberal parts of the U.S.
Fox News in particular runs off this idea that there’s a “Real America” and a liberal dystopia trying to destroy the country from within. So we have our own citizenry led to believe by a multi-billion dollar network that—as an example—the city home to the Statue of freakin’ Liberty isn’t part of the so-called “Real America.”
So I find it tragically ironic that some people across the Internet, who probably fancy themselves as rather enlightened, would come to the same conclusion about large swaths of the U.S. as a Fox News propagandist—that the country is a dangerous hellhole that you should largely avoid.
Is this sports washing?
I think John Oliver said it best when he described FIFA is a criminal organization, comparing them to a drug cartel. They do horrible things, but they deliver an excellent and wildly popular product.
There’s a strong case to be made that governments go after global events, like the World Cup, to engage in sports washing—using popular athletics to change global perception. Russia, Qatar, and Saudi 2034 come to mind. In fact, my conspiracy theory is that the U.S. only agreed to co-host with Canada and Mexico because those countries generally have a good international reputation and they wanted to use them like some kind of political shield.
I mean, hell, Americans do it all the time—especially all those cowardly backpackers who stitch a Canadian flag onto their backpack.
I’m sorry, you don’t get to travel with an American passport with all the privilege that entails—roughly in the 95th percentile of powerful passports with 179-visa free destinations you can enter—and then play Canadian because you’re afraid someone might ask you an uncomfortable question at your Berlin hostel. Methinks the Germans you’ll meet can handle the mental exercise of: I’m from this place but I don’t like the leader who’s obsessed with giving speeches, having a military parade, and trying to start a war with the world.
But here’s why I ultimately don’t think it’s sports washing.
First of all, we all said the same thing about Qatar and Russia. They’re sports washing their bad behavior, so we should boycott the World Cup.
But those World Cups have come and gone. So here’s my question… Does the world look any more lightly upon the Qatari government and their heinous anti-LGBTQ+ laws because they hosted the World Cup? Or how about we ask Putin if the world took it easier on Russia when they invaded Ukraine because they hosted the World Cup just four years earlier at the time?
Second of all, the whole point of sports washing is that an event like the World Cup changes global opinion of the government. I absolutely cannot imagine that any international football / soccer fan will go home thinking, “You know what… That Donald isn’t so bad after all! Let him have Greenland and a few more bombs in case he gets bored again.”
Besides, the guy has seemingly shown little to no interest in the World Cup after FIFA gave him his trophy bribe carved by Hades himself. He was too focused on his Idiocracy cosplay festival on the White House lawn.
Look, multiple things can be true. The U.S. government can be a cancer to the world, FIFA can be a glorified criminal organization that sells a phenomenal product, and the American people can be kind, welcoming hosts who’ve long been misrepresented on the international stage by their government.
And again, I don’t necessarily blame individuals for being skeptical of the U.S., though I would like to think the people would at least get the benefit of the doubt—especially if you come from a country with its own horrific chapters of history, which is basically every country in the world. Still, I don’t blame individuals because the world is overexposed to the U.S., its news, and its pop culture.
The U.S. is like Green Day’s American Idiot album. I love Green Day and it’s a great album, but way too many of those songs have been played to death. I swear a little part of me dies each time I hear the opening notes of “Wake Me Up When September Ends.”
And as a September baby, I find the song vaguely offensive. Do better!
But fans from around the world are taking to American hospitality and have gotten to know the people beyond the mainstream media headlines that make this country feel like a trashy reality show. As Ugandan comedian Joe Opio put it on Trevor Noah’s podcast:
“People are discovering different sides of America because they’re getting to meet real Americans as opposed to Americans being represented by their government.”
And who knows! Maybe we’ll finally get a decent chant out of this.
No, the U.S. probably didn’t deserve to host the World Cup alongside Mexico and Canada, and there’s a lot of valid criticism there, including exorbitant ticket prices and visa issues on top of the infantile behavior of the host government. But they have it. It’s here and people are clearly having a good time. And with everything going on in the world, we should relish that there’s this moment of international camaraderie.
There’s a meme going around that I think sums it up quite well: The World Cup is just the U.S. having a giant sleepover with the cousins we never see because our parents hate each other.
And I think after this World Cup, we won’t just remember how Americans showed the rest of the world a good time alongside their co-hosts, Canada and Mexico. I think we’ll see Americans learn or reinforce the idea that it’s this kind of community and lively streets that brings true happiness in the world.
Because as I talked about in last week’s post, the traditional way of doing things in the U.S. isn’t making us happy. In fact, I think if anything, following the playbook makes us pretty miserable.