The 2026 World Cup: global game, uneven access
By Giulia Pezzano, Senior Immigration Analyst, Arce Immigration Law (Miami)
As the countdown to the 2026 FIFA World Cup continues, the United States is preparing to host what will likely become the largest football tournament ever staged. Matches will be played across North America, global broadcasters are organizing large production teams, and sponsors are preparing for one of the most complex commercial events the sport has ever seen.
Yet one of the most interesting dynamics surrounding the tournament will not take place inside the stadiums. It will unfold at the border.
In recent months, the United States has expanded travel restrictions affecting nationals from a number of countries. These measures include a full suspension of entry for nationals of Afghanistan, Burkina Faso, Myanmar, Chad, Equatorial Guinea, Eritrea, Haiti, Iran, Laos, Libya, Mali, Niger, the Republic of the Congo, Sierra Leone, Somalia, South Sudan, Sudan, Syria, and Yemen.
A second group of countries — including Angola, Antigua and Barbuda, Benin, Burundi, Côte d’Ivoire, Cuba, Dominica, Gabon, The Gambia, Malawi, Mauritania, Nigeria, Senegal, Tanzania, Togo, Tonga, Venezuela, Zambia, and Zimbabwe — is subject to partial restrictions impacting certain visa categories.
From an immigration law perspective, the practical consequence is clear: for many nationals of these countries, obtaining a B-1/B-2 visitor visa — the standard route for international fans — may become significantly more difficult or, in some cases, unavailable.
At first glance, immigration policy might seem distant from the spectacle of a World Cup. But international sport has always depended on mobility. Players, journalists, sponsors, production teams, consultants, and creators move across borders constantly to participate in events that are marketed as truly global.
To ensure that the competition itself is not affected, U.S. authorities have introduced exceptions for major international sporting events. These allow athletes, coaches, and essential team personnel to enter the country even if they come from nations affected by the new restrictions. Without such mechanisms, organizing a tournament that brings together national teams from around the world would simply not be possible.
This tension is no longer theoretical. In March 2026, Iran’s football federation confirmed that it is negotiating with FIFA to relocate its World Cup matches from the United States to Mexico, citing security concerns and the inability to guarantee the safety of its players on U.S. soil. Iran is currently scheduled to play all of its group-stage matches in American cities, but officials have stated they will not travel under current conditions. If FIFA does not approve the relocation, Iran could even withdraw from the tournament entirely. This would be an unprecedented scenario in the modern World Cup era. This development underscores how geopolitical realities can directly reshape even the core structure of a global sporting event.
Outside the teams themselves, the picture becomes even more complex. A modern World Cup is far more than a series of matches. It is a global gathering of media organizations, digital creators, sports-technology companies, sponsors, analysts, and entrepreneurs who operate within the broader football economy. Many of these professionals must rely on the ordinary immigration system rather than the special sporting exemptions.
For most travelers, that system continues to function normally. Yet when nationality interacts with visa restrictions, the process can become less predictable. From a legal standpoint, this introduces a level of uncertainty that requires careful pre-planning, particularly for professionals operating within the global sports industry.
Football has already seen how visa policy can influence international competitions. Earlier this year, reports suggested that several players from the Caribbean club Mount Pleasant faced visa issues ahead of a CONCACAF Champions Cup match in Los Angeles. Some of the affected players were Haitian nationals, illustrating how immigration rules can unexpectedly influence the logistics of international sport.
All of this places immigration policy in an interesting position within the story of the 2026 World Cup. The tournament promises unprecedented scale, a larger format, and participation from more nations than ever before. At the same time, it will take place within a global environment where the ability to travel is not always evenly distributed.
Teams will benefit from carefully designed exceptions that ensure the competition can take place as planned. The wider ecosystem that surrounds football — fans, media, and commercial partners — may encounter a more complex landscape.
In that sense, the next World Cup may quietly highlight something that often goes unnoticed in sport: global competitions depend not only on stadiums and television audiences, but also on the ability of people to move across borders.
The players will arrive ready to represent the global game. How easily the rest of the global football community can follow them remains a question that will unfold long before the opening whistle.
