FIFA never tires of devising devilish methods to increase its revenues. If it was previously satisfied with an increase of nearly one billion dollars per tournament, its next World Cup promises an even larger jump, possibly exceeding three billion dollars compared to the Qatar edition, thanks to ideas that seem strange at first glance, but with FIFA, anything is possible—indeed, enjoyable.

For instance, who would have thought of interrupting each half of a match with a break, after a tradition that spanned more than a century, during which humanity knew only a single halftime break? Yet this seemingly contrived pause, which dampens the excitement and is said to be for players to rest and drink water, secures significant profits for FIFA—up to $250 million thanks to the advertisements broadcast during it. For the viewer, it’s only three minutes, but FIFA also sells time, and at a premium. Before the idea of golden breaks, there was the idea of increasing the number of participating teams: why not 48 instead of the customary 32? A masterstroke. This measure secured for the organizing body an additional 40 matches, with their tickets, breaks, hotels, flights, and all associated expenses. Every match has its ripple effects, opening doors to revenue and profit.

But when you decide to include a larger number of teams in this global sporting event, which is supposed to feature the cream of national teams, it comes at the expense of quality because you will accept nations that would have been eliminated in previous tournaments. But that's fine, because priority has shifted to advertisements, hotel commissions, broadcasting companies, digital data firms, and airline agencies, above all else.

The viewer wants to follow his favorite team; he cares about the moments of excitement that distract him from life's troubles. And the more wars, injustice, and crises escalate, the more spectators find in the World Cup, every four years, their escape and their oasis of rest. FIFA understands its audience's weak point and spares no effort in raising the appeal of its matches through filming that lets us watch facial expressions, players' shouts, and fans' chants with stunning slow-motion clarity, to the point where we almost feel we are living with them. The viewer does not care about all the negative news he hears about FIFA. The Arabs who were angered by the refereeing of the Egypt-Argentina match and considered the result unfair to the Pharaohs will keep watching the upcoming matches until the very last breath. And those who object to injustice here, capitalism there, and corruption elsewhere will not care much about criticism directed at FIFA, no matter how severe. For them, it is a nebulous entity, a hazy facade, but it brings joy and delight, and forgiveness of its sins grants us happiness—and no one is crazy enough to deprive themselves of this beautiful appointment that comes only once every four years.

A collective celebration descends like cool water on audiences thirsty for hope and joy. But its rituals and matches remained for decades a free pleasure for the nations of the world in their homes. It would not have crossed even the most fertile minds that these seasonal television broadcasts could be monopolized, encrypted, blocked, and sold to those who can afford the price of watching. Truly, it was an idea that was impossible even to conceive. Moreover, ticket prices over time have become a commodity reserved for the rich and those fortunate enough to afford flight and hotel costs and entry tickets, which soar as if we are at an auction.

This is also one of FIFA's innovations: instead of the usual fixed ticket price, the price rises with demand, as if you are booking a seat on a plane. Someone may pay $300, while another pays thousands for the same seat, simply because they bought the ticket at a different time.

And as a smart move, FIFA also introduced the expanded Club World Cup, which opened doors to new matches, additional advertisers, and television broadcasting rights—ample revenue that did not exist before.

All of this contradicts what the game of football was known for as a popular sport, originally spreading because it was for all classes, requiring no equipment—just a ball was enough to gather the neighborhood children. But times have changed; the ball has become smart with a chip and battery, players are tracked by cameras, while algorithms analyze their every move. For FIFA, the sport itself is no longer the goal, but rather selling and marketing everything surrounding it, including time, credibility, breaks, data, and memories—to the point that it has begun to sacrifice quality.

Believe it or not, FIFA is considered a non-profit organization, but in reality it is an empire with revenues surpassing those of many countries, managing billions, and possessing extensive power. It is a formidable force comprising 209 football associations around the world—more than the number of member states in the United Nations.

*Source: Asharq Al-Awsat (London)

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