Attending the World Cup is a privilege, and as someone who has been to three previous editions, I'm both excited and apprehensive about the 2026 tournament in the US, Mexico, and Canada. The usual anticipation is tempered by a sense of dread and uncertainty, as the finals will extract every penny from attendees through dynamic pricing and artificial scarcity. Football Australia's controversial FA+ membership program, which charges $99 for the chance to secure a World Cup ticket, is just one example of this. Despite the protestations, we're all willing participants in FIFA's late-stage capitalism.
My journey to securing tickets began with a sense of despair after failing to get tickets in the earlier ballot. However, the first sales window after the draw went smoothly, and I was relieved to see the "successful/partially successful" email from FIFA. Eventually, I gained a mix of tickets through the FIFA and FA ballots, including $84 tickets made available to national associations following a global fan backlash. I also secured tickets to a New Zealand match and a round of 16 contest at the famed Estadio Azteca in Mexico City, a bucket list item for any stadium aficionado.
My search for accommodation began the moment Australia was drawn in Group D. Stays in Vancouver and Seattle were already eye-wateringly expensive, upwards of $1,000 a night. Knowing the demand for the USA match, I booked an overpriced backpackers near the stadium, even though I've long crossed the age and comfort bar for lodging in hostel dormitories. For Vancouver, I played 4D chess and discovered a stay not found on booking search engines at a university campus for cost price.
The group stage fixtures for the Socceroos supporters were a blessing, with all matches on the West Coast. The stadiums in Vancouver and Seattle are walkable from downtown, while Santa Clara is accessible by light rail from San Jose, the nearest major city. The close proximity of Vancouver and Seattle enables me to travel overland by Amtrak. For something scenic and totally different, I'll fly by seaplane on one of my trips back to Seattle as I have tickets to four matches in the Pacific Northwest.
I always plan for Australia to finish as group runners-up, which means a game in Arlington - the largest city in the US without public transport. If they finish in one of the best third-placed spots, fans are in for a lottery as to their next destination. Determining this formula is a bigger mystery than knowing the band members of TISM. Whether it's quackery or mathematical genius, I read that the Socceroos have a better probability of playing in Foxborough in the country's northeast.
As I boycotted Qatar, a decision I would come to regret, there was no chance of missing out in 2026 - even if it sent me to the wall financially. For a football tragic, staying home last time around was just too painful. However, an unfortunate, but necessary, 11th-hour schedule change meant missing out on the Mexico and Switzerland warm-up friendlies. Being among 70,000 fans at the Rose Bowl in Pasadena, the stadium where Roberto Baggio missed that penalty, would have been a highlight. Inspired by England supporter flags that often show smaller teams, I got an Australian version made up for Mooroolbark, the member federation club I support. And if you know your history, that's another story in itself.
