So FIFA, that bloviating behemoth of bureaucratic blunder, has done it again. This time, the World Cup’s governing body is accused of herding fans onto concourses like cattle, denying them the seats they paid for. One must ask: is this the Fall of Rome in cleats? Or merely the logical endpoint of an organisation that long ago swapped sporting integrity for corporate cash-grabs?
Let us compare this to the Victorian era, when grand expositions like the Great Exhibition of 1851 prided themselves on order and spectacle. Joseph Paxton’s Crystal Palace housed millions with meticulous planning. Today, FIFA cannot even ensure a paying spectator finds a chair. The rot is not merely logistical; it is philosophical. When a body responsible for the world’s most popular sport treats its audience as livestock, it signals a deeper decadence.
Consider the authoritarianism inherent in such a move: fans forced into concourses, a euphemism for standing-room-only corridors, while expensive seats remain empty or overbooked. This is not a cock-up. It is a systematic prioritisation of profit over people. FIFA’s response? The usual PR balderdash: ‘safety concerns’, ‘unforeseen circumstances’. Nonsense. They gambled on overcapacity, and the fans lost.
Historically, civilisations that treat their citizens as means rather than ends crumble. Rome’s bread and circuses devolved into chaos when the circuses stopped working. Here, the circus is literally not working. The parallels are deliciously grim. Britain once exported Victorian values of fair play and meticulous organisation. Now, we export chaos. The World Cup, a global festival of unity, becomes a stage for malfeasance.
Intellectual decadence too: we accept these conditions. We book flights, hotels, and tickets, submitting to the whims of a Zurich-based cartel. We should be furious. Instead, we shrug. This moral fatigue is more dangerous than any ticketing fiasco.
And yet, the irony is rich. FIFA, which lectures nations on human rights, cannot guarantee a seat. Their motto: ‘For the Game. For the World.’ Perhaps for the dollar. For the looting.
To the fans on those concourses, I salute your patience. But do not be patient with incompetence. Demand better. Or accept that we are witnessing not football’s greatest tournament, but its slow, ignominious decline into pageantry devoid of soul.
What next? Will they charge for oxygen in the stadium? Do not laugh. Nothing would surprise me.
