
by
Isabelle
Ouvrard/SEPA.Media
/Getty
Images)
Every
World
Cup
arrives
with
controversy.
That
is
part
of
the
tournament’s
DNA.
Host
nations
worry
about
stadium
readiness.
Fans
argue
about
ticket
prices.
Security
planners
lose
sleep.
What
feels
different
this
time
is
that
the
warning
is
not
coming
from
activists
in
the
stands
or
lawmakers
in
host
cities.
It
is
coming
from
the
top
of
the
sport’s
old
establishment.
Former
FIFA
president
Sepp
Blatter
is
now
publicly
backing
calls
for
fans
to
stay
away
from
matches
in
the
United
States
in
2026.
He
echoed
comments
from
Swiss
lawyer
and
longtime
FIFA
reform
figure
Mark
Pieth,
who
said
in
a
newspaper
interview
that
supporters
should
consider
watching
from
home
and
that
visitors
might
face
aggressive
immigration
treatment
on
arrival.
Add
in
fresh
criticism
from
officials
within
Germany’s
soccer
federation,
new
travel
bans
affecting
fans
from
several
qualified
countries,
and
outrage
over
nearly
$9,000
list
prices
for
the
final
at
MetLife
Stadium,
and
the
legal
stakes
around
this
tournament
become
impossible
to
ignore.
The
United
States
is
not
just
hosting
a
sporting
event
next
summer.
Along
with
Canada
and
Mexico,
it
is
hosting
one
of
the
largest
temporary
international
migrations
in
modern
history.
Millions
of
people
will
cross
borders
to
attend
matches.
That
turns
immigration
law,
administrative
discretion,
security
policy,
consumer
protection,
and
even
tort
liability
into
part
of
the
tournament
infrastructure.
Let’s
start
with
the
travel
bans,
because
they
cut
closest
to
the
heart
of
fan
access.
Reports
that
supporters
from
Senegal,
Ivory
Coast,
Iran,
and
Haiti
may
be
barred
unless
they
already
hold
visas
raise
immediate
questions
about
how
immigration
policy
intersects
with
mega
events.
Legally,
the
federal
government
has
wide
latitude
to
regulate
entry
into
the
country.
Courts
have
repeatedly
upheld
presidential
authority
in
this
area
when
national
security
rationales
are
asserted.
But
FIFA
tournaments
operate
on
a
different
plane
than
ordinary
tourism.
Host
agreements
typically
include
promises
that
fans,
teams,
and
officials
will
be
able
to
enter
the
country
for
the
event
subject
to
standard
security
screening.
When
whole
categories
of
supporters
are
excluded
based
on
nationality,
that
tension
becomes
acute.
From
FIFA’s
perspective,
this
is
not
simply
a
political
headache.
It
is
potentially
a
contractual
one.
Host
country
agreements
often
commit
governments
to
facilitating
visas
for
accredited
participants
and
visitors.
If
those
commitments
are
perceived
as
hollow,
FIFA
and
its
partners
face
reputational
risk
and
possible
disputes
with
sponsors
and
broadcasters
who
paid
for
a
truly
global
spectacle.
From
the
fan
side,
there
is
another
layer.
Supporters
who
buy
tickets
and
book
travel
only
to
learn
later
that
they
cannot
enter
the
country
may
turn
to
refund
claims,
insurance
disputes,
or
class
actions
against
resellers
and
tour
operators.
The
fine
print
will
matter
enormously.
So
will
disclosures
about
entry
requirements
at
the
time
of
sale.
Which
brings
us
to
pricing.
Dynamic
pricing
has
pushed
the
list
price
for
the
final
toward
levels
that
would
make
Broadway
blush.
FIFA
President
Gianni
Infantino
has
suggested
resale
markets
could
drive
them
higher
still.
There
is
nothing
inherently
illegal
about
charging
premium
prices
for
scarce
tickets.
But
once
numbers
reach
this
scale,
regulators
start
paying
closer
attention.
State
attorneys
general
routinely
police
deceptive
sales
practices,
bait-and-switch
tactics,
and
hidden
fees
in
ticketing
platforms.
Federal
agencies
watch
for
unfair
or
misleading
advertising,
especially
when
international
consumers
are
involved.
If
fans
are
paying
thousands
of
dollars
while
simultaneously
facing
uncertainty
about
entry
into
the
country,
disclosure
becomes
the
legal
pressure
point.
What
did
sellers
promise?
What
risks
were
flagged?
What
refunds
are
available
if
government
policy
changes
after
purchase?
Security
policy
is
the
next
front.
Blatter
and
Pieth’s
comments
suggest
that
arriving
fans
could
face
aggressive
questioning
or
removal
if
they
run
afoul
of
immigration
officials.
That
may
sound
dramatic,
but
large-scale
events
already
involve
enhanced
screening,
coordination
between
federal
agencies,
and
temporary
security
zones
around
venues.
The
legal
responsibility
for
what
happens
to
spectators
inside
and
around
stadiums
will
fall
on
a
complex
web
of
actors.
Federal
authorities
control
borders.
Local
police
departments
manage
crowd
control.
Stadium
operators
and
organizing
committees
oversee
private
security.
If
something
goes
wrong,
plaintiffs’
lawyers
will
be
sorting
through
who
owed
what
duty
to
whom
in
record
time.
We
saw
this
play
out
in
other
mega
events
around
the
world.
When
transportation
collapses,
when
crowd
surges
injure
spectators,
or
when
protest
responses
escalate,
lawsuits
often
follow.
For
U.S.
host
cities,
sovereign
immunity
statutes,
federal
jurisdiction
questions,
and
indemnification
agreements
will
suddenly
move
from
boilerplate
to
battleground.
Then
there
is
the
political
overlay.
Concerns
tied
to
immigration
enforcement
protests,
foreign
policy
rhetoric,
and
domestic
unrest
are
not
issues
FIFA
can
simply
wave
away
with
marketing
slogans.
When
senior
figures
in
the
international
game
float
boycott
talk,
sponsors
take
notice.
So
do
broadcasters.
So
do
host
committees
that
have
issued
bonds,
built
transit
upgrades,
and
promised
economic
windfalls.
If
attendance
dips
because
foreign
supporters
stay
home,
that
has
ripple
effects
across
municipal
budgets
and
private
contracts.
Hotels,
vendors,
and
transportation
operators
rely
on
projections
that
assume
global
participation.
Litigation
over
lost
revenue
is
not
far-fetched
if
those
projections
collapse
under
policy
shifts.
FIFA’s
response
so
far
has
been
predictably
upbeat.
Infantino
insists
that
fans
will
come
and
celebrate
together.
He
may
well
be
right.
World
Cups
have
survived
scandals
before.
But
legally
speaking,
optimism
is
not
a
strategy.
The
2026
tournament
is
testing
whether
a
sport
that
markets
itself
as
borderless
can
function
smoothly
inside
a
world
of
tightening
borders
and
polarized
politics.
Immigration
policy,
consumer
law,
public
safety
planning,
and
international
agreements
are
all
colliding
in
real
time.
For
American
hosts,
the
lesson
is
straightforward.
Transparency
matters.
Coordination
matters
more.
Clear
visa
pathways,
realistic
ticketing
disclosures,
and
visible
security
planning
are
not
public
relations
exercises.
They
are
liability
management.
For
fans,
the
message
is
equally
practical.
Read
the
entry
requirements.
Understand
refund
policies.
Know
what
insurance
actually
covers.
Do
not
assume
that
buying
a
ticket
guarantees
a
seat
in
the
stadium
if
government
rules
shift.
And
for
FIFA,
this
is
the
central
legal
question
behind
the
headlines.
When
former
presidents
and
reform
architects
warn
that
supporters
should
stay
away,
the
issue
is
no
longer
just
optics.
It
is
whether
the
legal
framework
surrounding
the
tournament
can
support
the
world’s
biggest
sporting
event
without
cracking
under
geopolitical
strain.
The
World
Cup
has
always
claimed
to
unite
nations
for
90
minutes
at
a
time.
In
2026,
the
courts,
regulators,
and
border
officials
may
end
up
shaping
that
promise
just
as
much
as
the
players
on
the
pitch.
Michael
J.
Epstein,
a
Harvard
Law
School
graduate,
is
a
trial
lawyer
and
managing
partner
of The
Epstein
Law
Firm,
P.A., a
law
firm
based
in
New
Jersey.
