A reported scene from Norway against Iraq puts that argument into human terms. An Iraqi equaliser was followed by a supporter in Foxborough dropping to his knees, overwhelmed by seeing his country score on the world stage.
The match may carry little lasting significance in the competition’s sporting history. For that supporter, it was a personal milestone. Flags, music and shared celebration created a connection that no GDP figure can properly record.
That is the enduring strength of international football. It turns identity into something visible, communal and, at its best, generous.
The account of Austria against Algeria offers another example. Algerian supporters brought the louder music, while Austrian fans sang together for hours. Language, religion and history separated the two groups, but the stadium narrowed the distance.
These encounters do not erase political tensions or guarantee lasting harmony. They can, however, create first meetings and small exchanges that would never happen otherwise. A song shared in a stadium, a conversation outside it or a gift taken home can become the tournament’s real legacy.
The financial case for the United States is harder to settle. Tournament organisers and consultants have projected major economic gains, while previous sporting events have produced more cautious assessments. Visitors may spend heavily in bars, restaurants and shops, yet that does not automatically mean broad prosperity or lasting jobs.
Public money always carries an opportunity cost. The question is not whether the World Cup creates activity; it plainly does. The question is whether that activity justifies the promises made before kick-off.
As the tournament moves on, the next storyline will be whether its social impact outlasts the final whistle. The most valuable legacy may be found not in national accounts, but in the people who leave feeling closer to a country they once knew only from a map.