We’re soccer darlings no more.
That was my immediate thought upon hearing President Trump appealed to his buddy Gianni Infantino before FIFA suspended its suspension—yes, that’s really what they did, they suspended a suspension—of the red-carded and exiled United States soccer star Folarin Balogun, reinstating him for Monday’s do-or-die match with Belgium.
Oh boy. Here we go. The World Cup has gotten as nutty as college football.
Until now, it’d been a breezy World Cup for the United States, one of the tournament’s three hosts. A likeable Waldo-shirted national team has cruised into the round of 16, its best performance in ages. Visiting international fans have rhapsodized about our hospitality and gushed over culinary miracles like ranch dressing and Philly cheesesteak while trekking to Costco like it is our version of the pyramids.
The U.S. has been getting rave reviews, hailed as a friendly behemoth. Did you catch the interview with the German fan weeping over the kindness of strangers in Boston ? (Of course, if the grateful guy stayed a day longer, the ruthless Celtics would have traded him to Philadelphia .)
Now the vibe’s going to get weird. America is back to playing the heavy.
Whether or not Trump’s call to friend Gianni on Balogun’s behalf accomplished anything doesn’t matter (the Journal reported Infantino agreed to look into it, but didn’t commit to anything). It doesn’t even matter that Balogun’s red card for mashing a Bosnia and Herzegovina opponent’s leg was a bit much—an overreaction to a bang-bang play that looked grimmer in slow-motion.
Trump and Infantino are pals. The FIFA honcho has aggressively courted Trump’s favor for years. Infantino even took the daffy step of awarding the president a peace prize that looked papier-mâchéd by FIFA gofers after a hasty run to Michael’s .
Giovanni Vincenzo Infantino, president of FIFA, tries out a USA hat during a Board of Peace meeting at the U.S. Institute of Peace, Thursday, Feb. 19, 2026, in Washington. (AP Photo/Mark Schiefelbein)
The Balogun episode gives at least the appearance of political influence. While the appearance of influence/favoritism is a quaint/naive notion in 2026, the reversal was sure to cause a fury, and did.
The rest of the planet doesn’t know our country freaks out like this all the time, especially in college football season when an opportunity to play in the Pop Tart Bowl is on the line. Belgium is seething, ready to announce the chocolate, frites and cyclocross sanctions. Its soccer coach thought the whole thing was a prank.
“I didn’t know that at the World Cup, the 5th of July is actually the first of April–April Fools’,” said a baffled Rudi Garcia.
None of this is shocking. I don’t like to brag about anything besides my children, my cat, and my Old Fashioned recipe (hint: Demerara syrup), but I told you this was going to happen. I knew America was about to do what it often does, which is to assemble the suits, lawyer up and lean in.
Of course, I was being tongue-in-cheek. Sort of. But not really.
On Sunday the Journal reported that the White House had, in fact, assembled legal brains to examine how to get Balogun out of the red card and back on the pitch. Their findings were soon passed on to U.S. soccer officials, sources told the Journal.
FIFA wound up invoking a dusty old provision called Article 27 , a rule that allows it to do…basically, well, whatever it wants.
It’s the first time an ejected player has been reinstated to the World Cup since 1962. And while FIFA has suspended other suspensions—notably, halting a pre-tournament ban for Cristiano Ronaldo that allowed him to play in Portugal’s opening games—the late-breaking, in-tournament reversal on Balogun creates a wild precedent.
England’s Jarell Quansah got a red card in Sunday’s win over Mexico. What happens now – agitated phone calls to Infantino from King Charles and Posh Spice? What if Erling Haaland gets sent off? Do angry horned vikings row all the way to FIFA HQ?
An upbeat tournament suddenly feels a little off the rails. Belgium must now prepare for a goal-scorer it thought it wouldn’t see. There are calls for the U.S. coach Mauricio Pochettino to not play Balogun as a form of national valor. (“We’re not the bad guys,” Poch said.) People are talking about the ethics of the World Cup with a straight face.
We even got the comedy of the dubiously banned-from-soccer ex-FIFA boss Sepp Blatter soliloquizing about the integrity of his former employer.
“Quo vadis, FIFA? ” Blatter wrote on social media. “Football must never become a playground for political power.”
We are through the looking glass. Or maybe this is exactly what the World Cup has always been, a too-big-to-fail extravaganza that plays politics, makes it up as it goes along and smoothly passes it off, because it knows fury always fades and the planet can’t stop watching.
USA versus Belgium, 8 p.m. ET. Balogun available.
Email: jason.gay@wsj.com
