I remain convinced that few things galvanise a team more effectively than a sense of injustice or blatant disregard for fair play. The recent incident involving the United States’ striker, Folarin Balogun, illustrates this perfectly. Donald Trump — who has publicly admitted he “didn’t know what a red card is” — intervened in Balogun’s automatic suspension following his dismissal, personally requesting that FIFA President Gianni Infantino “review” the decision.
FIFA subsequently convened a committee to examine the matter, yet no one seems able to identify who sat on it, where it met, or whether any minutes exist. The opacity is striking, giving the impression that the committee was little more than a procedural fiction. Its conclusion — to postpone the ban for a full year — only deepened that impression.
Trump’s justification for the intervention was that he “didn’t think it was a foul,” a remarkable stance from someone with no meaningful experience playing or officiating football. His claim that excluding a star player would be “a big stain” on the match ignores the far more serious stain created by disregarding the rules that govern the sport for everyone else.
FIFA, an organisation that purports to maintain political neutrality, has not helped its own credibility. Its decision to award Donald Trump the organisation’s first-ever “FIFA Peace Prize” — apparently because he did not receive a Nobel Peace Prize — was widely criticised. Many observers noted that the Nobel Committee tends to reward those who resolve conflicts, not those associated with escalating them. The presentation of this award by Gianni Infantino at the tournament draw in January was, for many, an uncomfortable spectacle.
In the end, whether by cosmic irony or the whims of footballing fate, Belgium delivered a decisive response on the pitch, eliminating the United States with a 4–1 victory — the USA’s heaviest defeat since 1990.