Photograph © Kaia Sand Jules Boykoff is the author of Kicking, a memoir about his former life as a professional soccer player and his current life as a critical academic of sport. He has written six books on the politics of the Olympic Games, including What Are the Olympics For?, NOlympians: Inside the Fight Against Capitalist Mega-Sports in Los Angeles, Tokyo, and Beyond, and Power Games: A Political History of the Olympics. His work has appeared in outlets such as The Nation, The Guardian, The Los Angeles Times, The New York Times, The Globe and Mail, Jacobin, Folha de São Paulo, and Common Dreams. Boykoff teaches political science at Pacific University. Follow him on Bluesky at @julesboykoff.bsky.social.

From the Introduction

Soccer is never just soccer. And sports are politics by other means.

This was abundantly clear when the powerbrokers of world football convened in December 2025 for the 2026 FIFA World Cup draw. Glitz and glam were in abundance. Supermodel Heidi Klum emceed the event alongside actor Kevin Hart. The audience included a Who’s Who of North American sports icons: NBA great Shaquille O’Neal, hockey Hall of Famer Wayne Gretzky, NFL Super Bowl champions Tom Brady, and New England Patriots owner—and Epstein files staple—Robert Kraft. The event featured the heads of state from all three host countries: Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney, Mexican President Claudia Sheinbaum, and US President Donald Trump. To close the show, the Village People played its MAGA anthem “YMCA,” a brazen sop to Trump. The point of the event—sorting the 48 countries into twelve groups to compete in the World Cup—was relegated to a mere sideshow, lost amid the star-studded bromide-o-rama.

The event took place in Washington, DC, at the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, renamed later that month “The Donald J. Trump and The John F. Kennedy Memorial Center for the Performing Arts” before being shut down when numerous artists refused to perform there. FIFA relocated the event from Las Vegas to make it as convenient as possible for Trump to attend. The switch was orchestrated by FIFA President Gianni Infantino, a man who had long made a tactical habit of sucking up to the powerful.

Infantino took his sycophancy to the next level at the 2026 World Cup draw, awarding Trump with the inaugural FIFA Peace Prize, a wholly confected accolade with no precedent, let alone serious criteria. The award—technically titled “FIFA Peace Prize – Football Unites the World”—was concocted the previous month “to reward individuals who have taken exceptional and extraordinary actions for peace and by doing so have united people across the world.” Infantino’s unilateral decision to establish the award blindsided his colleagues at the FIFA Council, composed of eight vice-presidents, 28 members at large, and chaired by Infantino himself. Some FIFA Council members first heard about the prize by reading a press release. When Human Rights Watch wrote to FIFA to request basic information about the prize—its search criteria, the nomination process, the judges for the award—the group was unceremoniously stonewalled.

The design of the trophy itself was downright bizarre: a gaudy assemblage of thin, grizzled hands that looked as if they were surfacing from the bowels of hell, stretching toward a golden orb hovering above. Infantino, who vocally supported Trump’s failed bid to win the Nobel Peace Prize, which instead went to Venezuela’s right-wing opposition leader María Corina Machado, took to the stage to explain why he chose Trump for the award: “This is what we want from a leader, a leader that cares about the people. We want to live in a safe world, in a safe environment. We want to unite. That’s what we do here today. That’s what we do at the World Cup, Mr. President, and you definitely deserve the first FIFA Peace Prize for your action, for what you have obtained in your way, but you obtained it in an incredible way.” Infantino went on to gush, “You can always count, Mr. President, on my support, on the support of the entire football community, or soccer community, to help you make peace and make the world prosper all over the world.”

Because Trump is a megalomaniac with a crude, transactional governing style and zero commitment to truth, he is well-situated to leverage the toxic gangsterism of sports. “The truth is that sport, in its current hyper-politicized and hyper-commodified form, is exquisitely suited to Trump’s needs,” wrote Bryan Armen Graham in the Guardian. “It supplies the crowds, the cameras, the ritual patriotism and the ready-made mythologies of strength and struggle. It gives him stadiums and arenas that can be turned into instant rallies and backstage corridors that double as donor gatherings.” In addition, Graham notes, “It offers him a role he prefers to the one described in the constitution: not head of the executive branch, but ringmaster-in-chief.”

Infantino has been Trump’s primary enabler when it comes to converting soccer into political advantage. He has visited the White House and Mar-a-Lago more than any world leader, so many times that Trump might start charging him rent. In fact, after Infantino established a New York headquarters in Trump Towers, he actually is paying rent to Trump. Gianni Infantino is Trump’s principal accomplice when it comes to sportswashing.

★ ★ ★

Sportswashing is when political leaders use sports to appear important or legitimate on the world stage while stoking nationalism and deflecting attention from chronic social problems and human-rights woes at home. Sportswashers use sports to try to burnish national prestige, to convey economic or political success, to spur personal enrichment. Sportswashing fortifies the bones of global capitalism while reconfiguring the meaning of fandom, allegiance, and human rights. It targets both domestic and international audiences. It has significant material implications, facilitating what David Harvey calls a “spatial fix”—moving surplus capital elsewhere and making it productive while diversifying a country’s investment portfolio. Beyond the money shuffle, sportswashing also plays a vital role in global discourse, subtly massaging reputational repair into public consciousness through the passion and popularity of sport. Importantly, sportswashing can also pave a path for war.

The global sports industry is big money, no question about it. It rakes in at least $2.655 trillion annually, placing it among the top ten revenue-producing industries globally; the United States makes up 40 percent of that total. Sports ownership and rights-holding go hand in hand with astronomical plutocracy. The largest private landowner in the United States is Stan Kroenke, the billionaire whose holding company owns Arsenal in the Premier League, Arsenal Women of the Women’s Super League, the Colorado Rapids of Major League Soccer, the NFL’s Los Angeles Rams, the NBA’s Denver Nuggets, the NHL’s Colorado Avalanche, and other sports teams.

And sports are enormously popular. One estimate found that 95 percent of the global population recognized the Olympic rings. The FIFA World Cup is the most-watched sports event on Earth. An estimated 1.5 billion people tuned in for the 2022 World Cup final between Argentina and France, while some 5 billion tuned in at some point during the tournament. The 2026 World Cup, with the field increased to 48 teams, promises to shatter these records.

Photograph © Kaia Sand Jules Boykoff is the author of Kicking, a memoir about his former life as a professional soccer player and his current life as a critical academic of sport. He has written six books on the politics of the Olympic Games, including What Are the Olympics For?, NOlympians: Inside the Fight Against Capitalist Mega-Sports in Los Angeles, Tokyo, and Beyond, and Power Games: A Political History of the Olympics. His work has appeared in outlets such as The Nation, The Guardian, The Los Angeles Times, The New York Times, The Globe and Mail, Jacobin, Folha de São Paulo, and Common Dreams. Boykoff teaches political science at Pacific University. Follow him on Bluesky at @julesboykoff.bsky.social.

From the Introduction

Soccer is never just soccer. And sports are politics by other means.

This was abundantly clear when the powerbrokers of world football convened in December 2025 for the 2026 FIFA World Cup draw. Glitz and glam were in abundance. Supermodel Heidi Klum emceed the event alongside actor Kevin Hart. The audience included a Who’s Who of North American sports icons: NBA great Shaquille O’Neal, hockey Hall of Famer Wayne Gretzky, NFL Super Bowl champions Tom Brady, and New England Patriots owner—and Epstein files staple—Robert Kraft. The event featured the heads of state from all three host countries: Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney, Mexican President Claudia Sheinbaum, and US President Donald Trump. To close the show, the Village People played its MAGA anthem “YMCA,” a brazen sop to Trump. The point of the event—sorting the 48 countries into twelve groups to compete in the World Cup—was relegated to a mere sideshow, lost amid the star-studded bromide-o-rama.

The event took place in Washington, DC, at the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, renamed later that month “The Donald J. Trump and The John F. Kennedy Memorial Center for the Performing Arts” before being shut down when numerous artists refused to perform there. FIFA relocated the event from Las Vegas to make it as convenient as possible for Trump to attend. The switch was orchestrated by FIFA President Gianni Infantino, a man who had long made a tactical habit of sucking up to the powerful.

Infantino took his sycophancy to the next level at the 2026 World Cup draw, awarding Trump with the inaugural FIFA Peace Prize, a wholly confected accolade with no precedent, let alone serious criteria. The award—technically titled “FIFA Peace Prize – Football Unites the World”—was concocted the previous month “to reward individuals who have taken exceptional and extraordinary actions for peace and by doing so have united people across the world.” Infantino’s unilateral decision to establish the award blindsided his colleagues at the FIFA Council, composed of eight vice-presidents, 28 members at large, and chaired by Infantino himself. Some FIFA Council members first heard about the prize by reading a press release. When Human Rights Watch wrote to FIFA to request basic information about the prize—its search criteria, the nomination process, the judges for the award—the group was unceremoniously stonewalled.

The design of the trophy itself was downright bizarre: a gaudy assemblage of thin, grizzled hands that looked as if they were surfacing from the bowels of hell, stretching toward a golden orb hovering above. Infantino, who vocally supported Trump’s failed bid to win the Nobel Peace Prize, which instead went to Venezuela’s right-wing opposition leader María Corina Machado, took to the stage to explain why he chose Trump for the award: “This is what we want from a leader, a leader that cares about the people. We want to live in a safe world, in a safe environment. We want to unite. That’s what we do here today. That’s what we do at the World Cup, Mr. President, and you definitely deserve the first FIFA Peace Prize for your action, for what you have obtained in your way, but you obtained it in an incredible way.” Infantino went on to gush, “You can always count, Mr. President, on my support, on the support of the entire football community, or soccer community, to help you make peace and make the world prosper all over the world.”

Because Trump is a megalomaniac with a crude, transactional governing style and zero commitment to truth, he is well-situated to leverage the toxic gangsterism of sports. “The truth is that sport, in its current hyper-politicized and hyper-commodified form, is exquisitely suited to Trump’s needs,” wrote Bryan Armen Graham in the Guardian. “It supplies the crowds, the cameras, the ritual patriotism and the ready-made mythologies of strength and struggle. It gives him stadiums and arenas that can be turned into instant rallies and backstage corridors that double as donor gatherings.” In addition, Graham notes, “It offers him a role he prefers to the one described in the constitution: not head of the executive branch, but ringmaster-in-chief.”

Infantino has been Trump’s primary enabler when it comes to converting soccer into political advantage. He has visited the White House and Mar-a-Lago more than any world leader, so many times that Trump might start charging him rent. In fact, after Infantino established a New York headquarters in Trump Towers, he actually is paying rent to Trump. Gianni Infantino is Trump’s principal accomplice when it comes to sportswashing.

★ ★ ★

Sportswashing is when political leaders use sports to appear important or legitimate on the world stage while stoking nationalism and deflecting attention from chronic social problems and human-rights woes at home. Sportswashers use sports to try to burnish national prestige, to convey economic or political success, to spur personal enrichment. Sportswashing fortifies the bones of global capitalism while reconfiguring the meaning of fandom, allegiance, and human rights. It targets both domestic and international audiences. It has significant material implications, facilitating what David Harvey calls a “spatial fix”—moving surplus capital elsewhere and making it productive while diversifying a country’s investment portfolio. Beyond the money shuffle, sportswashing also plays a vital role in global discourse, subtly massaging reputational repair into public consciousness through the passion and popularity of sport. Importantly, sportswashing can also pave a path for war.

The global sports industry is big money, no question about it. It rakes in at least $2.655 trillion annually, placing it among the top ten revenue-producing industries globally; the United States makes up 40 percent of that total. Sports ownership and rights-holding go hand in hand with astronomical plutocracy. The largest private landowner in the United States is Stan Kroenke, the billionaire whose holding company owns Arsenal in the Premier League, Arsenal Women of the Women’s Super League, the Colorado Rapids of Major League Soccer, the NFL’s Los Angeles Rams, the NBA’s Denver Nuggets, the NHL’s Colorado Avalanche, and other sports teams.

And sports are enormously popular. One estimate found that 95 percent of the global population recognized the Olympic rings. The FIFA World Cup is the most-watched sports event on Earth. An estimated 1.5 billion people tuned in for the 2022 World Cup final between Argentina and France, while some 5 billion tuned in at some point during the tournament. The 2026 World Cup, with the field increased to 48 teams, promises to shatter these records.