Are Sky-High Ticket Prices Turning the 2026 World Cup into a “Prawn Sandwich” Event?
Football has always been more than just a game. It is culture, identity, and for many, a way of life. Yet as ticket prices continue to soar, a familiar question is resurfacing: who is modern football really for?
The phrase “prawn sandwich brigade” entered football folklore in 2000, when former Manchester United captain Roy Keane criticized affluent spectators who, in his view, cared more about comfort and status than passion for the game. His comment became a symbol of football’s growing detachment from its working-class roots, as rising ticket prices slowly replaced lifelong supporters with wealthier, less vocal attendees.
More than two decades later, that criticism feels more relevant than ever — especially as the 2026 FIFA World Cup approaches.
When Football Becomes a Luxury Experience
While the term “prawn sandwich” may not be commonly used in the United States, the concept is easy to recognize. Major sporting events such as the Super Bowl have evolved into elite social gatherings, where networking, celebrity sightings, and exclusive parties often rival the action on the field.
CNN recently reported that Super Bowl LIX tickets averaged nearly $9,800, making attendance unthinkable for most fans. Once travel, accommodation, food, and merchandise are included, the event becomes a luxury reserved almost entirely for corporations and the ultra-wealthy.
The concern now is that the 2026 World Cup may follow the same path.
A World Cup Priced Like 104 Super Bowls
FIFA President Gianni Infantino, alongside former US President Donald Trump, famously described the upcoming tournament as “104 Super Bowls.” Judging by ticket prices, that comparison appears more literal than symbolic.
Average prices to attend the opening matches of the host nations — the United States, Mexico, and Canada — are reportedly around $1,825. That is nearly three times the cost of Qatar’s 2022 opener and far more expensive than Russia 2018.
Unsurprisingly, fans around the world are furious. Long-time England supporter Nigel Seeley described the prices as “insane,” listing potential ticket costs of up to $8,860 for the final. For many lifelong fans, attending even a single match has become financially impossible.
Empty Seats and Uncomfortable Questions
Despite record ticket revenues, the real concern is not money — it is atmosphere.
FIFA’s recent Club World Cup raised red flags when overpriced matches were played in half-empty stadiums, with vacant seats clearly visible on television. If history repeats itself, the 2026 World Cup risks losing the electric environment that defines the tournament.
A World Cup without passionate fans is not just a visual problem — it undermines the soul of the competition.
Barriers Beyond Price
Cost is not the only obstacle. Strict US immigration policies may prevent thousands of fans from attending. Several countries are already on restricted entry lists, and further limitations have been announced, including partial bans affecting World Cup participants.
Government officials have also sent mixed messages, encouraging fans to attend matches — but leave immediately afterward. Combined with increasingly complex visa requirements, including extensive background checks, these measures could significantly reduce international attendance.
As a result, FIFA may be forced to rely heavily on US-based buyers, corporate sponsors, and casual spectators to fill stadiums.
A Global Tournament at Risk of Losing Its Identity
The World Cup is meant to unite nations, cultures, and communities through football. But if stadiums are dominated by corporate guests and casual fans, the tournament risks becoming a polished spectacle rather than a genuine celebration of the world’s game.
The question remains:
Will the 2026 World Cup belong to the fans — or to those who can afford the prawn sandwiches?
