One Life in Nine World Cups: Simon Kuper on Football Fever and Why the Beautiful Game Still Matters

“The World Cup is a kind of religious feast. It’s like Easter, or Passover, or Eid, but it’s for all of humanity.” — A Church of England vicar, quoted by Simon Kuper

Nick Hornby measured his (sad) life in Arsenal fixtures. The FT columnist Simon Kuper has measured his in World Cups. His new book, World Cup Fever: A Soccer Journey in Nine Tournaments, is the Kuper story told through the nine tournaments he attended as a journalist — from Italy 1990 to Qatar 2022.

World Cup Fever is as irresistible as a Maradona slalom or a Pelé feint. In 1990, three Oxford students blag their way into Italy on Mars corporate tickets, pulling out library cards at the Swiss border to prove they’re not Liverpool hooligans. In 1998, France’s World Cup victory changes Kuper’s life — he buys an apartment/office in Paris and never really leaves, even writing World Cup Fever there. In 2006, the newly reunited Germany reinvents itself as the nice guy of World Cups, and the German Football Association’s designated handler of World War Two queries receives exactly zero calls. In 2014, Brazil loses one–seven to Germany in the most stunning result in tournament history — and Kuper watches Brazilian football lovers line the road to applaud the German bus.

But, after Russia in 2018 and Qatar in 2022, those glory days might now be history, Kuper fears. The North American World Cup this summer will be the biggest yet — forty-eight teams, three host countries, and a grifter FIFA president (Gianni Infantino) not unlike Donald Trump. What could possibly go wrong?

So who will win in 2026? Kuper thinks England have their best squad since 1966. Spain are probably the best team. Messi will be thirty-nine. But the World Cup has so many random elements that none of that really counts. What matters, a Church of England vicar told Kuper, is that the World Cup is a religious feast for all of humanity. In a time when we’re increasingly lonely and miserable, it’s the most joyous communal event we have. As the non-doctrinal Kuper promises, “it’s like Easter, or Passover, or Eid, but it’s for all of humanity.”

Five Takeaways

•       Every World Cup, You Remember Where You Were: Kuper’s first was 1978 — eight years old, sitting with his parents and grandparents in the Netherlands. His mother is now dead. His grandparents are long dead. But he can see it: June 25th, 1978. Nick Hornby measured his life in Arsenal fixtures. Kuper has measured his in World Cups.

•       The Oxford Library Card Got Them Past the Border Guards: Italy 1990. Three students blag World Cup tickets from Mars. The Italian border guards see “Liverpool” on a passport and think: hooligans. Five years after Heysel. They pull out their Oxford library cards. “Studenti, Oxford.” The guards make a snap sociological analysis and let them in.

•       One–Seven: The Wall Came Down: Brazil 2014. The home of World Cup football loses to Germany in the most shocking result in tournament history. Brazilian fans line the road to applaud the German bus. They’ve accepted it: the era is over. Brazil will never again be impregnable. Kuper compares it to the fall of the Berlin Wall — equally stunning, no going back.

•       The World Cup Is a Religious Feast for All of Humanity: A Church of England vicar told Kuper: it’s like Easter, Passover, or Eid, but everyone’s allowed to join. In a time when we’re all atomised and on separate screens, the World Cup is the biggest communal event we have. Fans hug, exchange shirts, celebrate shared nationhood and shared humanity.

•       England’s Best Chance Since 1966: Kuper and his co-author Stefan Szymanski say this is the strongest England sq