Let’s be real. The World Cup isn’t just about football. It’s about the shared experience. It’s about the bloke in the pub who suddenly becomes a tactical genius after two pints. It’s about your nan texting you a picture of a penalty shootout she didn’t understand. It’s about the sheer, ridiculous hope that this time, this time, it’s actually coming home.
Even when England isn’t playing, the World Cup is a deadline calendar for life. Remember the 2018 tournament? That was the summer we all learned each other’s neighbours’ names because we watched the Colombia game over the fence. The 2026 one? That was the Christmas tournament where you watched games while pretending to be at a family gathering. These moments are gold dust.
