It is easy to be cynical about the World Cup. For weeks, we’ve heard that the tickets are too expensive, the travel is too complicated, and the logistics are too much. Add in concerns about heat, commercialization—my son is among those grumbling about water breaks during games, even when temperatures are mild—and the sheer size of the tournament, and there appears to be no shortage of reasons to complain.

And yet, every four years, the World Cup still feels a bit magical. For a few weeks, strangers in different languages argue over the same call, celebrate the same goal, and hope—against all available evidence—that this could be their year. You don’t have to know every player to understand the belief that somehow, anything can happen.

You can see it in host cities like Philadelphia, where my daughter has been volunteering with FIFA. You can feel it watching an airline pilot dance with Curaçao’s “Blue Wave,” and hear it in the bagpipes carried along by Scotland’s Tartan Army. You can’t help but take a second look at Norway’s viral send-off photo, with the team dressed in authentic Viking gear—yes, really.

And then there are the moments that make the tournament feel less like a sporting event and more like a shared group chat: Spain’s 18-year-old phenom Lamine Yamal checking out Walmart, Germany soccer superfan Freddy discovering the Waffle House and Ella Langley, and fans from all over the world turning the ordinary into must-follow social moments. (Freddy, by the way, now has nearly half a million followers on X, formerly Twitter.)

The result is that the 2026 World Cup is not just the biggest tournament in soccer history. This year, it is also a vibe.

And that feeling—that we are all in this together—turns out to be true in tax, too. Tax rules follow money, work, and people across borders even when (or maybe especially when) it comes to sports. With the U.S. hosting 78 matches in 11 cities, including the final, those borders will matter to players, coaches, referees, and other tournament participants.

And there’s a lot of money (and tax) to be navigated. The top five highest-paid players at the 2026 World Cup earned more than $675 million last year. (Spoiler alert: Messi isn’t at the top.)

There’s also a lot of revenue headed to the U.S. Last year, FIFA projected that the World Cup would add up to $17.2 billion to GDP, roughly 0.05% of the U.S. economy.

And new billionaires are being minted every year, thanks to the sport. David Beckham retired from professional soccer in 2013 at age 38. Since then, he’s built a $1 billion empire, mainly in the U.S. (Fun fact: In 2005, the tax laws in Spain were changed to benefit wealthy foreigners. One was known as Beckham’s Law because Beckham was one of the first to take advantage of it—some speculate that it was actually written for him.)

He’s not the only soccer star to re-invent himself in the U.S. Lionel Messi, considered by many to be the greatest soccer player in the world, signed with Inter Miami in 2023, eschewing much bigger deals abroad—including a reported $500 million offer from Saudi Arabia's Al-Hilal. It’s likely no coincidence that he landed in Florida, a state with no income tax.

And yes, I’m clearly a soccer fan. If you’re not one yet, be sure to check out our great Forbes coverage, including the sport's impact on taxes, as the tournament continues. Not sure where to start? Check........

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