The phrase ‘greatest World Cup’ echoes through the corridors of power, a boastful promise designed to stir national pride. But on the ground, where budgets are balanced and communities live, a more sobering question emerges: at what cost? This week, UK infrastructure experts issued a stark demand for a legacy audit, warning that the glittering spectacle could leave a trail of debt and disillusionment.
Football’s showpiece event has always been a double-edged sword. For host nations, it offers a stage for global glory, a chance to showcase progress and unity. Yet the aftermath often tells a different story. From the ghost stadiums of South Africa to the white elephant projects of Brazil, the pattern is familiar: a surge of investment followed by years of maintenance burdens. Now, as the UK eyes the 2030 bid, experts are urging caution.
‘The numbers don’t add up,’ says Dr. Helena Marchmont, a transport economist at Imperial College. ‘We’re looking at billions in infrastructure spending, but the long-term operational costs are rarely disclosed. Who will pay for the upkeep of stadiums in cities that don’t have a Premier League club? The answer is usually the taxpayer.’
The human cost is already visible. In communities near proposed sites, residents speak of uncertainty. ‘They told us regeneration, but we fear gentrification,’ says Maria, a community organiser in Birmingham. ‘Rents will rise, small businesses will be pushed out. For what? A month of football?’
Meanwhile, the cultural shift is palpable. The World Cup is no longer just a tournament but a brand, packaged and sold to the highest bidder. The romantic ideal of sport as a unifier collides with the reality of corporate hospitality suites and VIP enclaves. Who benefits? The question hangs heavy.
Yet there is hope. A transparent legacy audit could force accountability, ensuring that promises of grassroots investment are kept. It could mean new transport links that actually serve commuters, not just fans. It could mean affordable housing in regenerated areas, not just luxury flats.
But time is running out. As the bidding process heats up, the pressure to dazzle grows. The greatest World Cup must not become a monument to short-term thinking. The true test of a legacy is not the final score but the lives it touches long after the final whistle.
