The FIFA Club World Cup is upon us, and it's an experience, to say the least. It's a mix of borrowed culture, almost-football, and, well, plasticine burgers. Lionel Messi's Inter Miami are kicking things off, but there's a distinct feeling that the world hasn't quite caught up to the memo about this $1 billion event.
Picture this: marching bands, majorettes, and a sea of flags. But is anyone actually there, truly present and engaged? It's like welcoming people to an "almost-World Cup," an event striving to be real, to finally feel like actual football.
One can't help but notice the blatant male dominance within the global football landscape, especially when examining the lineup for this revamped Club World Cup in the United States. Out of the 32 participating clubs, spanning six continents, there's only one female president, Leila Pereira of Palmeiras.
Adding to the sense of the surreal, Real Madrid has agreed to pay a substantial fee for Trent Alexander-Arnold's early release, just so he can participate in this "heinous footballing entity." It begs the question: how much un-booing does that kind of money buy you when you are dealing with a local lad departure scenario?
The Club World Cup doesn't really need to exist. As Barney Ronay puts it, "It is in effect a one-man reordering of the global calendar, a product of Fifa's unique style of government whereby a single random Swiss man is given an autocratic degree of power over the global game."
The tournament's ghastly, overly ornate trophy with its repellent orange sheen; its utter meaninglessness in the football calendar; the shameless cash-grab by FIFA to create another pointless TV competition whose rights were essentially sold in the kind of money-laundering operation that should be investigated by the Serious Fraud Squad; and just the outright contempt which oozes from every part of it towards football fans who know what is important and what isn't, and this absolutely isn't despite what that snivelling, obsequious, unctuous, little creep says about it all.
The tournament has faced hurdles beyond mere skepticism. Recent events, such as the pitch invasion and riots following the Champions League final, have even raised questions about whether Paris Saint-Germain (PSG) might face a ban from the Club World Cup. UEFA has launched an investigation into the incidents, and disciplinary measures could range from fines to stadium closures, or even an outright ban.
Despite the potential for high-profile teams and players, the Club World Cup struggles to capture the imagination in the same way as other major tournaments. Perhaps it's the borrowed cultural elements, the sense of inauthenticity, or simply the feeling that it's more about money than the love of the game.
Ultimately, the Club World Cup feels like an experiment, a work in progress that is still trying to find its identity. Whether it will ever truly capture the hearts of football fans remains to be seen. For now, it's a spectacle of sorts, a blend of global ambition and local uncertainty, where even the burgers seem a little… artificial.
