We started this series in 1930, with thirteen teams that basically had to be begged to show up and a stadium that wasn't even finished. We're ending it ninety-six years later with 48 teams, three countries and 104 matches. It's hard to find many things in the world that have grown like that.

The format change was the biggest in history: from 32 to 48 teams and from 64 to 104 matches. It was split between Canada, the United States and Mexico, with sixteen stadiums and distances that forced teams to travel across different time zones within the same tournament.
Mexico became the first country to host three World Cups, after 1970 and 1986.
The final was played on 19 July 2026 at MetLife Stadium in New Jersey, in front of over 80,000 people. Spain 1-0 Argentina, with a goal from Ferran Torres in extra time, and Rodri taking home the award for the tournament's best player.
Sixteen years after Iniesta in Johannesburg, Spain claimed their second World Cup. We covered it from the stands at MetLife, which is where we were.


It's worth putting the two extremes side by side, because that's the best way to understand what this series is all about.
In 1930, 13 teams played, four of them European and only because Uruguay paid for their boat. The final was watched by 93,000 people in a stadium that wasn't even finished, the referee asked for a ship waiting in the port just in case they needed to escape, and nobody outside Montevideo found out anything until days later.
In 2026, 48 teams played across three countries, with goal-line technology, VAR and a tournament followed live by billions of people worldwide.
In between: a world war that wiped out two editions, two dictatorships that used the tournament as a shop window, a trophy stolen twice, a country that disappeared between the draw and the match, the first African team to reach the quarter-finals, the first final decided by penalties and a few legends that, when you look closely, turned out not to be quite what the stories said they were.
Twenty-three chapters, one for each World Cup. In all of them we've tried to do the same thing: tell the good story without making it up, and say out loud when what's floating around out there isn't documented. In several cases the truth was less epic than the legend — Cruyff and the 1978 World Cup — and in others the truth was rather ugly — the 6-0 thrashing of Peru in 1978.
If you've made it this far from 1930, thanks. And if you're starting with this one, the full index is here.
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