The World Cup was supposed to be about the football, so why can't anyone stop talking about the stadiums? As the tournament unfolds, America's colossal stadiums have stolen plenty of attention. It's left us wondering, are we maybe too attached to tradition and history in Europe? Maybe it's time to look to the future of the game...
If there’s one thing this World Cup has done, beyond the goals and the upsets, is spark a conversation about stadiums. More specifically, American stadiums.
Scroll through your Insta the past week and you’ll see a lot of Europeans reacting with a mixture of awe and disbelief. Sweeping roofs. Giant screens. Architectural statements that look more like futuristic landmarks than football grounds. Whether it’s Atlanta. Dallas, or New York, the stadiums hosting this World Cup have become characters in the tournament themselves.
And honestly? I get it.
As a European football fan, there’s something undeniably impressive about seeing these venues on the biggest stage of the game. The sheer scale is hard to comprehend. These aren’t just stadiums, they’re experiences. Monuments to sport and entertainment built with a level of ambition that feels almost alien to those of us raised on the likes of Kenilworth Road and Fratton Park.
And that’s the thing, most of these aren’t football stadiums. Well, not as we know it. They’re American Football stadiums. And that distinction is important. They may share a name but realistically these sports are completely different in a lot of ways. American Football is a sport synonymous with spectacle. It’s a game where entertainment is woven into the fabric of the experience.
The stadiums reflect that philosophy. They’re designed to impress. To create a sense of occasion from the moment you arrive. These aren’t simply venues built to host sport, they’re entertainment machines built to create an experience.
However, football culture on this side of the pond has always been more focused on the game itself. The atmosphere comes from the fans. The emotion comes from the ninety minutes. The stadium is just the setting. We romanticise the moments, the noise, the history.
For decades, we’ve have told ourselves that football belongs in traditional grounds. Tight stands with broken seats. Legacy in the walls. A sense of authenticity that can’t be manufactured. And I still believe that. Nobody is swapping the San Siro for SoFi stadium. Nobody is choosing a retractable roof over the Bernabéu’s Champions League nights. Nobody is replacing the soul of Old Trafford with a 360-degree LED screen. You can’t beat that feeling you get when you walk into a true stadium.
But watching this World Cup unfold has highlighted something a little uncomfortable for us to admit: maybe Europe has spent so long celebrating heritage that it’s forgotten to dream.
Because while many of our iconic stadiums are loved for their history, some are showing their age… Unfortunately, that’s just how it goes. Infrastructure built for a different era. Matchday experiences that often lag behind modern expectations.
Meanwhile, the States has approached stadium design with almost no emotional baggage. They haven’t been afraid to ask what a stadium can become. And then spend a shit tonne of money making that happen. The result is a collection of venues that feel ambitious, bold, and unapologetically modern.
That’s not to say they’re perfect either. The atmosphere debate isn’t going anywhere, trust me. Football culture can’t be engineered. It takes generations. But seeing all these true football fans filling these stadiums over the course of this tournament has brought a completely new life to them.
Maybe football’s future doesn’t lie in choosing between tradition and innovation. Maybe it’s somewhere in between.
Watch this space for more on World Cup 2026...