Cape Verde gave the tournament one of its most exhilarating rides. From the start of their campaign through their assured performances against heavyweight opponents, the Blue Sharks played with the confidence of a side that had misplaced the script written for smaller football nations. At times, they seemed to be conducting a symphony — Beethoven with boots on, trumpets blaring at the coda. It was a pleasure to watch them do what sharks are meant to do: command the waters, even when swimming among whales.
There was also the passing of the baton: the arrival of Lamine Yamal and the possible farewell of Cristiano Ronaldo and Lionel Messi. Generations were changing in full view, adding another layer of emotion to a tournament already rich in hope, grievance, pride, suspicion, politics and joy. That, in the end, is what this World Cup has supplied in abundance: not merely matches, goals and eliminations but the full human theatre of football, compressed into 90 minutes at a time.
Then came the old powers and nearly-men who kept nerves jangling: the Black Stars of Ghana, the Carthage Eagles of Tunisia and the Teranga Lions of Senegal. They left us clinging to memory, pedigree and the hope that one last piece of magic might yet be conjured. It was not. The Ivorian Elephants, too, found that depth on paper does not always translate into depth on the pitch. Yet there were still pulsating moments from Bafana Bafana and the Leopards — enough to remind us that football, even when it disappoints, keeps its audience on the edge of the sofa. The Atlas Lions of Morocco and the Pharaohs of Egypt, meanwhile, kept the heartbeat steady.
Overall, Africa’s group-stage performance was impressive, with most of its representatives reaching the knockout rounds. But the knockout phase is a sterner examination. It demands colder heads, deeper benches and the capacity to turn promise into execution. That lesson will matter even more as football looks toward 2030, when Morocco will co-host the World Cup with Spain and Portugal.
No tournament drama is complete without the ritual churn of coaches. Tunisia dismissed its coach after a poor start. South Korea’s coach resigned, saying he had failed to meet the expectations of the Korean people. That might have been enough theatre but the Korean Football Association reportedly went further, initiating an inquiry into the recruitment process and raising questions about possible irregularity. Football rarely leaves the stage empty for long.
The refereeing supplied its own jolts. In one much-discussed match involving France and Paraguay, many viewers felt the officiating lagged behind events on the field. France, by many accounts, seemed more sinned against than sinning, while Paraguay played with a physical edge that should have drawn firmer intervention. Excesses on the pitch should be called out and sanctioned. A heavy challenge on Kylian Mbappé, at the very least, demanded decisive action. Where was VAR? Had it taken a coffee break? The question echoed broader African frustrations over penalty calls and video review.
But the tournament’s tensions did not stop at the touchline. This World Cup has unfolded in the United States, Canada and Mexico, with one co-host — the United States — in open conflict with one contestant, the Islamic Republic of Iran. Iran’s original base in Tucson, Arizona, was changed to Tijuana, Mexico, after visa uncertainty and restrictions affecting parts of its delegation. Players were eventually cleared to enter the United States for matches but Iranian officials and media reports said several support and administrative staff were denied visas, while reports also suggested that the team faced unusually restrictive travel conditions around matchdays. Iran, in other words, had to play football while managing geopolitics. It competed fiercely until the group stage brought its campaign to an end.
There was also the case of Somali referee Omar Abdulkadir Artan, one of Africa’s respected match officials, who was reportedly denied entry into the United States despite being selected among FIFA’s World Cup referees. Such episodes showed that the tournament’s emotional weather did not begin at kickoff. It gathered before the opening whistle, moved through airports and dressing rooms, crossed borders and followed the competition deep into the knockout rounds.
Then came Folarin Balogun’s red card in the United States’ 2–0 win over Bosnia and Herzegovina. The incident came in the 64th minute, after VAR recommended an on-field review of his challenge on Bosnia and Herzegovina defender Tarik Muharemović. Slow-motion replays showed Balogun’s boot coming down on the defender’s ankle. The referee upgraded the incident to a straight red card for serious foul play, which normally carries an automatic one-match suspension.
The emotions then mounted to a crescendo. The United States could not simply appeal the red card in the usual sense: on-field factual decisions are generally final. Yet FIFA’s Disciplinary Committee used Article 27 of the FIFA Disciplinary Code to suspend implementation of Balogun’s automatic one-match ban for a one-year probationary period. That made him eligible to face Belgium, while leaving the sanction liable to be enforced if he committed a similar offence during that period. The ban was not erased; it was parked.
Was there political intervention? Several media reports said President Donald Trump had contacted FIFA President Gianni Infantino and asked that the matter be reviewed; Trump later confirmed that he had asked for a review. FIFA, for its part, said the matter was handled by its independent disciplinary bodies under the applicable rules. Belgium, the United States’ next opponent, was not amused. The Royal Belgian Football Association said it was “astonished” and argued that the ruling sat uneasily with the tournament’s automatic-suspension rules. It challenged Balogun’s eligibility, but FIFA later deemed the challenge inadmissible on the grounds that Belgium was not a party to the disciplinary proceedings. In football, as in politics, procedure matters; perception sometimes matters more.
Football at this level is doing what it has always done: turning skill into spectacle and spectacle into argument. Emotions and politics cannot be separated from the game; they are part of its machinery. We ride the highs and lows of this tournament — its goals, grievances and geopolitical frictions — amid impressive performances by France, Norway, Cape Verde and even Canada, which is enjoying a breakthrough run. The beautiful game endures because it offers more than scores. It offers theatre, controversy, injustice, redemption, memory and joy — all wrapped in a ball now made smarter by technology. Long live the beautiful game.
Anthony Ohemeng-Boamah is a development practitioner and policy specialist focused on Africa’s socio-economic transformation.