“Oh, dis World Cup, shawty?”
The query came from a man — puzzled look on his face, riding MARTA — stopped at Five Points station. He was reacting to the organized chaos around him, one guy drowning in a sea of bodies wearing Cape Verde and Spain jerseys.
The foreign tongues spoke Spanish, Portuguese and Crioulo. They were headed westbound toward SEC District and Vine City stations.
Suddenly, there were more trains with single-digit wait times (an ATL miracle!) ready to pick us up. There’s clear signage, more police. MARTA’s little helpers are wearing soccer jerseys, shepherding visitors to their proper platforms.
Yes, fellow commuter, this is Day 1 of the FIFA 2026 World Cup in Atlanta. City planning, procrastination, pomp and circumstance aside, the planet’s biggest sporting has arrived.
Credit: Arvin Temkar/AJC
Credit: Arvin Temkar/AJC
We were just over two hours away from a noon kickoff between World Cup favorite Spain and the debutant, Cape Verde. That’s when my hometown can officially say it’s the first Southeast city to host a World Cup match in 32 years. After this, seven more games will follow.
Sitting on the train, I think to myself that as an Atlanta native who witnessed the 1996 Summer Olympics, obsesses over our sports teams and loves soccer, I know passion. Well, that was until I got off the train and made my way toward Atlanta Stadium.
Outside, it was a party.
Cape Verde supporters draped in flags, banging on drums, led dance circles. Spain supporters led chants. Supporters of other countries joined in on both.
Credit: Ben Hendren
Credit: Ben Hendren
I was trying to find words to scribble in my notes when I ran into Georgina Monteiro and her friends. Monteiro was with a group of nearly 60 Cape Verde supporters who traveled more than 4,000 miles to Atlanta from Rotterdam, Netherlands.
Rotterdam has one of the highest concentrations of Cape Verde diaspora worldwide. Six players on the national team are originally from there.
Monteiro tells me she’s grappling with her emotions. There are a lot. Mostly, pride.
“I’m proud of what they’ve accomplished because this is like a podium, a world podium for us,” she said.
And this was before her team went on to shock the world and shut out Spain.
The Rotterdam crew got to Atlanta two days before this match. They plan on attending group-stage games in Miami and Houston as well.
I ask what it’s been like to experience a World Cup in Atlanta.
“There’s a spirit here, a vibe I just can’t explain. It feels fantastic,” Monteiro said.
Unlikely hero
Inside Atlanta Stadium — where an announced crowd of 67,640 folks gathered to watch FIFA’s No. 2-ranked team (Spain) take on its No. 64-ranked squad (Cape Verde) — that euphoria was present.
Food and FIFA merch lines were long. Booze flowed like the Chattahoochee. Smiles were everywhere.
A prematch decibel battle between supporters saw both flirt with 100, the noise equivalent of a subway train. Collectively, it was well past that.
The stadium’s seats were mostly fans wearing red supporting La Roja with pockets of blue repping Tubarões Azuis, but you couldn’t tell who had an advantage from hearing it.
It felt like David pulled up with an entire city behind him to take down Goliath.
The first half lacked appearances from Spain’s young superstars, Lamine Yamal and Nico Williams. Instead, a new star emerged on the other team, and his name is Josimar Dias, aka Vozinha.
Credit: Jason Getz/Jason.Getz@ajc.com
Credit: Jason Getz/Jason.Getz@ajc.com
Supporters, journalists and stadium staff marveled at Cape Verde’s goalkeeper, who led his entire team in touches. Like the Braves’ Otis Nixon scaling outfield walls at Atlanta-Fulton County Stadium, Vozinha, 40, defied physics and age.
At the half, it was 0-0. Cape Verde and its version of Superman had Spain shook.
As Clark Atlanta University’s drum line performed at halftime, I looked around at faces of elated Cape Verde fans and dejected Spain supporters. It all felt familiar.
Vozinha later told reporters why he was in tears after the final whistle blew, resulting in a draw. He was thinking about his grandparents who aren’t here to see him. He was thinking of his mother, who couldn’t get money together in time to secure a visa to get here.
“They gave everything for me,” he said.
My love for football outside of the U.S. started with my mom, who took me to the bronze medal game at the 1996 Olympics nearly 30 years ago.
Mighty Brazil faced Portugal on Aug. 2 at Sanford Stadium in Athens. This was a Brazil team that included legends Roberto Carlos, Rivaldo and a 19-year-old prodigy named Ronaldo.
I was that kid: yellow Brazil home jersey on, mini American flag in my mouth, with locs in my hair to mimic U.S. men’s national team midfielder Cobi Jones. He was my hero. Brazil won 5-0. Its style of football — samba (ginga) — is still my favorite to watch.
Sports passion
I love watching sports, and I can remember three times my teams made me cry.
You see, I thought passion was my love for the 2016 Falcons. The New York Times interviewed me about my fandom and what a Super Bowl win would mean for Atlanta. When the Falcons blew a 28-3 lead, I found myself sitting on a sidewalk outside of a watch party at Ria’s Bluebird crying.
I thought passion was tears I shed in Mercedes-Benz Stadium watching Atlanta United win the MLS Cup in 2018. I know some folks scoff at that being a major championship, but you couldn’t tell this founding member it was anything short of sports gods finally blessing us.
Count it.
I thought passion was shedding more happy tears for the 2021 Braves. I hugged, kissed and dapped friends on Peachtree Street as the team’s World Series parade whizzed by us, en route to Cobb County.
None of those moments felt quite like this, and I didn’t have really have a dog, Spaniard or Blue Shark in the fight.
This was bigger.
Credit: Jason Getz/Jason.Getz@ajc.com
Credit: Jason Getz/Jason.Getz@ajc.com
That was clear when Cape Verde’s Diney Borges almost scored off a corner kick in the 90th minute. A unified roar from nearly 70,000 people (Spain fans started rooting for their opponents, too) rocked the building and my ear drums and left me with chills that I still feel.
As the match came to a close, chants of “Ca-bo Ver-de!” rang throughout Atlanta Stadium. Spain’s players headed to the locker room. Cape Verde’s players spent the next 20 minutes walking the pitch, stopping to thank their supporters — who weren’t leaving till their national team did.
After the match, one of my editors asked me, “A 0-0 draw? Folks are excited over a goalless tie?!”
Yes, and here’s why.
Well, as far as I know, this is the galaxy’s biggest sporting event. A no-name team from a country with a half-million folks just battled a football power from a nation with nearly 50 million.
The little country that could is now the darling nation we can’t stop talking about. A team full of Black players defying the odds on a world stage in a city dubbed as America’s Black Mecca was kismet.
Vozinha, named FIFA Man of the Match, started the game with 50,000 Instagram followers. As of this writing, he’s at over 7 million.
After the match, outside felt like 1996 all over again. Street vendors lined Centennial Olympic Park Drive outside The Center. Fans flocked to the FIFA Fan Fest. Downtown Atlanta felt like the bustling downtown it aspires to be.
Credit: Arvin Temkar/AJC
Credit: Arvin Temkar/AJC
Credit: Arvin Temkar/AJC
Credit: Arvin Temkar/AJC
Fans lined up to enter SEC District station, serenaded by the Groovy Groove band playing a mashup of Michael Jackson’s “Remember the Time” and Outkast’s “SpottieOttieDopaliscious.”
Spain fans congratulated Cape Verde supporters in the queue. Mexican fans ribbed the Spain fans for not winning. Groovy Groove’s trumpet player looked on, yelling out to all of them, “Welcome to ATL,” whilst extending his hand to form the “A-Town down” symbol.
Yeah, shawty, this is the World Cup in Atlanta. It’s only the beginning.
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