Atlanta FIFA World Cup withdrawal is real, but there’s hope

Count me as one of the 4,000 media members from more than 100 countries who were fortunate enough to see it live. For six of the eight matches in Atlanta, I was sitting in a press box with my colleagues, documenting history.

Outside Atlanta Stadium, I was reporting on how local and visiting supporters came together, united by one thing: the beautiful game.

Folks from 48 countries showed up in our backyard. Every day felt like a parade (or supporter march) inside my city. It was arguably the greatest monthlong summer party Atlanta has ever seen.

And, yes, I was here in 1996.

Now, most of the people, places and moments that made Atlanta’s run as a top-tier host city have disappeared, and I’m having World Cup withdrawal.

For me and others, the city and metro area’s World Cup hosting run from June 15 to July 15 was nothing short of great. If I wasn’t covering it, I was watching it.

When we weren’t covering matches, I became a regular at local viewing hot spots — literally and figuratively. Like half a million other folks this summer, I showed up and sweated through many days at FIFA Fan Fest in Centennial Olympic Park.

I stood under John Lewis’ statue, bobbing my head to Big Boi in the Square on the opening night of Decatur WatchFest.

Three weeks later, I was back in Decatur Square with my fellow countrymen, collectively groaning as our U.S. men’s national team got drubbed by Belgium.

Credit: Gavin Godfrey

Credit: Gavin Godfrey

When I wasn’t following Morocco, England, Egypt or Argentina supporters in South Downtown, you could probably still find me there downing an El Tesoro taco or standing in the sidewalk line for a Guinness outside the Brewhouse.

A Viking row beneath a bridge while watching Norway versus England on the BeltLine’s Eastside Trail? Check.

Ever since I stepped out of Atlanta Stadium after the city’s last match, another come-from-behind win for Lionel Messi and Argentina, I have found myself searching.

Credit: Kimberly Johnson

Credit: Kimberly Johnson

After filing my last game report, I went back to Fan Fest, not sure what I was looking for. Gone were juggling circles with 30 folks sharing different languages but the same love for football. Instead, it was just people twerking to Boosie Badazz and strutting to DJ Unk’s “Walk It Out,” all spun by DJ Drama. It looked and felt like home, but it was also bittersweet.

The next day, Mayor Andre Dickens released a video. In it, he thanked Atlanta, plugged the forthcoming Soccer and Sound event and promised that this feeling, these vibes weren’t temporary.

“It ain’t just ‘return back to normal.’ It’s always ‘keep growing,’” he said.

Well, Mr. Mayor, I’m just not quite ready to grow up. I want to hold on to this a little longer. I’m not trying to revisit normal anytime soon.

Trust me, in little ways, I’m trying to move on.

Oh, the memories

If moving on means being one of the nearly 29 million folks who started following Cape Verde’s Vozinha on social media after he shut out Spain and then watching all his public appearances, then yes.

Credit: Miguel Martinez/AJC

Credit: Miguel Martinez/AJC

Do I rewatch videos of Spain’s Lamine Yamal’s baby brother Keyne living his best life, wishing I was him? Duh.

Am I daydreaming about what Lumumba Vea’s suit closet looks like? Daily.

Am I hoping for a way to have America’s favorite Viking, Erling Haaland, adopt its favorite deformed raccoon, Jimothy? Of course.

Do I tell anyone within earshot that Spain’s title run started in Atlanta? Every time.

I think, OK, it’s time to switch from soccer jerseys to gear from my local favorites. I’ll just transfer that feeling into the passion I have for my home teams.

I stare at the hats staring back at me. The Braves “A” in home, away, World Series, Father’s Day, and Speedway Classic versions. I feel nothing.

Let’s go back to soccer. I aimlessly gawk at a closet containing every Atlanta United home shirt since 2017. Same deal.

Hawks jerseys with the names Mutombo, Young and Williams (Lou, definitely not Marvin), will keep collecting dust until October.

Those Matt Ryan and Jamal Anderson Falcons jerseys? Yeah, no time soon.

It just doesn’t feel the same right now. In time, I know it will.

Eventually hearing Shakira and Burna Boy’s “Dai Dai,” John Denver’s “Country Roads,” the Beatles’ “Hey Jude,” “Wonderwall,” by Oasis, and “Game Time” from Future and Tyla will go back to making me sing, instead of inspiring me to write sad-boy essays.

But here we are.

Swag searching

The feeling returns when I admire two new jersey pickups from this summer. Each comes with a story.

The Cape Verde training shirt, covered in blue sharks — jaws open, teeth showing — transports me back outside Atlanta Stadium before their group-stage shocker.

I think about meeting Georgina Monteiro, a Cape Verde supporter who traveled to Atlanta from Rotterdam, in the Netherlands.

I asked her what it meant to see her tiny West African nation on the globe’s biggest stage.

Credit: Gavin Godfrey

Credit: Gavin Godfrey

“We’re proud. No matter the outcome, we hope for a good match and that the boys let the world see what we are made of,” she told me.

I smile when I think of how Monteiro’s “boys” did just that, becoming the smallest nation to reach the World Cup knockout round. Messi might be the greatest, but he’ll see Cape Verde’s Deroy Duarte and Sidny Lopes Cabral in his nightmares for years to come.

I hope Monteiro and that same crew are somewhere dancing, as they were when I first found them.

Then there’s the red Morocco home shirt. It makes me think about how the Atlas Lions and Haiti played one of the best matches — a 4-2 Morocco victory — I’ve ever seen, period. My ears still ring from an unsafe decibel level produced when Haiti’s Lenny Joseph scored his country’s first World Cup goal in 52 years.

Credit: Jason Getz/AJC

Credit: Jason Getz/AJC

As for Morocco, the time spent speaking with their fans in metro Atlanta are conversations I will always cherish.

One of those supporters was Najlaa Moumaris. The Decatur resident’s father lives in his native city of Casablanca. Moumaris carried a photo of her dad with her at Atlanta Stadium. She spent the entire summer engaging in the city’s World Cup festivities.

Now that it’s over, I check in and ask how she’s doing. Moumaris said it hasn’t fully hit her. She misses meeting people from other countries and cultures. She got used to knowing what her plans were after work, who she’d watch matches with and where they would go. Like me, she made the World Cup part of her daily routine, with every ritual feeling sacred.

Credit: Hyosub Shin/AJC

Credit: Hyosub Shin/AJC

“World Cup was a distraction from your everyday; now it’s back to taking it day by day,” she said. “I don’t think I’m struggling, but I will miss it.”

Me, too.

Like those 1996 games, the World Cup gave me the wonder of a child. Now, however, I’m old enough to understand why this matters for Atlanta.

I’m sad that, just like 30 years ago, some small businesses didn’t cash in on the promised economic opportunities.

Still, I’m hopeful about what’s next.

Future goals

I shared my thoughts with another native son, Jon Birdsong.

Birdsong is the CEO of SoDo Atlanta LLC., a business entity that owns more than 50 historic buildings in South Downtown. We crossed paths on Broad Street this summer, where he witnessed five different supporter marches take shape, thanks to collaborative efforts with other South Downtown business leaders, including Underground Atlanta owner Shaneel Lalani.

Birdsong can’t stop thinking about the day thousands of Argentina fans descended on Underground Atlanta the day before their semifinal showdown with England.

“Atlantans will be talking about that for decades. I just stood there for an hour and soaked it all in because it is a moment that is very hard to reproduce,” he said.

The following day brought another march and an encouraging comment from a local LAZ Parking employee.

“I’ve been in Atlanta a long time, and these marches and this excitement, they wouldn’t have happened if you guys didn’t do what you were doing,” the man told him.

Credit: Hyosub Shin/AJC

Credit: Hyosub Shin/AJC

We are, always have been and will be a city in progress. We both know that, for downtown and Atlanta as a whole, progress means keeping the momentum going.

“Atlanta now has a new jigsaw piece in our amazing puzzle,” Birdsong said.

Atlanta has always had the pieces to build itself up. The World Cup was a strong reminder of that.

The party is over, but we’re still here.

I’m sure, at some point, I’ll burrow my way out of the tunnel vision that has me racking up screen time watching World Cup recaps.

I’ll still ride MARTA to work, dreaming about those every-five-minute arrivals. I’ll spend money in South Downtown, regardless of whether there is an event. I’ll hold out hope those festivals and watch parties become the norm for galvanizing Atlanta sports fans around our home teams.

I’ll shift my reporting lens back to the news at hand. It’s an election year.

I’m counting down days the days until the 2027 FIFA Women’s World Cup kicks off in Brazil. The Super Bowl is coming to Atlanta in 2028.

Mentally, I’m prepped for the packed future ahead, but my heart will always belong to Atlanta’s World Cup summer of 2026.

I miss it already.