16개 도시, 11개는 미국, 그리고 캐나다의 침묵

The stadium map for the 2026 World Cup looks like an elongated constellation. Stretching from Vancouver in the far north, it extends southward all the way to Mexico City, passing through Seattle, San Francisco, Los Angeles, Dallas, Houston, Atlanta, and Miami, before curving back north—Philadelphia, New York/New Jersey, Boston, and Toronto. Sixteen cities in total. The United States accounts for eleven, Canada two, and Mexico three.

The power structure behind this map is more lopsided than any match score. The U.S. secured 78 matches, including all knockout games. Canada got 13, all in the group stage. Mexico also got 13, all in the group stage. Estadio Azteca—the only stadium in the world to have hosted two World Cup finals—did not receive a single knockout match in 2026.

I met a Canadian soccer federation staff member in Vancouver. His badge read "Host Committee," but his expression looked more like "Guest Committee." I asked him what Canada's role was. He thought for a moment and said one thing: "You know at a wedding, there's a role called the best man? The best man stands next to the groom the whole time, looking important, but no one is there to see the best man." He smiled, but there wasn't much joy in that smile.

But if you ask the fans—those who are actually in the stadiums—they won't care about these political calculations. For them, BC Place in Vancouver is the World Cup. BMO Field in Toronto is the World Cup. Estadio Azteca in Mexico City—no matter how many matches it's been allocated—is the World Cup. Stadiums don't speak. Politics don't change the ninety minutes on the grass. So when you sit in those stadiums, watching flags flutter in the sunlight—you'll forget the power games behind that map. You'll only remember that one second. That one second is why you flew thousands of kilometers to be here.