The World Cup in the Park

When our city was announced as a host for the 2026 World Cup, our neighborhood decided to throw a watch party for every single match, on a big screen in the park.

I've never been a soccer fan. But I went to the first one, and then I couldn't stop going.

Every match, the park filled with people from everywhere. There were Mexican families with drums, Moroccan grandmothers with flags tied around their shoulders, Korean college students with painted faces and a group of English retirees who sang songs I couldn't understand. People brought food from home and shared it with whoever was sitting next to them. I ate tamales, samosas, empanadas and something wonderful from Senegal that I still don't know the name of.

When a goal was scored, it didn't matter whose team it was. Everyone screamed. Strangers hugged. A little boy in a Brazil shirt high-fived a man in an Argentina shirt, which I'm told is a big deal.

The final match is in a few weeks. I bought a jersey. I'm not even sure which team it's for. I just liked the color.