Iran was expected to take part in the World Cup that will be held across North America, but the country's sports and youth minister told state television that his country’s soccer team players are not safe in the U.S., according to a video of the interview posted.
— The Associated Press (@apnews.com) March 11, 2026 at 1:58 PM
Trump take World Cup:
… Iran was expected to take part in the World Cup that will be held across North America in June, but Iranian Sports and Youth Minister Ahmad Donyamali told state television that his country’s soccer team players are not safe in the U.S., according to a video of the interview posted Tuesday.
“Due to the wicked acts they have done against Iran — they have imposed two wars on us over just eight or nine months and have killed and martyred thousands of our people — definitely it’s not possible for us to take part in the World Cup,” he said.
Iran is scheduled to play in Inglewood, California, against New Zealand on June 15 and Belgium on June 21 before finishing group play against Egypt in Seattle on June 26. The U.S. is hosting the tournament with Canada and Mexico from June 11 to July 19…
Mary Geddry, at her Substack — “The World Cup, the Border, and the Performance of Grace”:
There is no role Donald Trump enjoys more than the one where he wrecks the furniture, strolls back into the room with a solemn expression, and expects praise for not smashing the lamp on his second pass. He has built an entire political career on this particular form of self-flattering absurdity. First he creates the ugliness, then he moderates it slightly, then he waits for the standing ovation that is supposedly owed to a man of such tremendous restraint. It is the logic of the mob boss who wants a thank-you card because he only broke one kneecap. It is also, in miniature, exactly what played out in the bizarre little drama over Iran and the 2026 World Cup.
The sequence is what makes it funny, because the sequence is always what makes Trump ridiculous. On March 3, when asked whether Iran should be allowed to play in a World Cup co-hosted by the United States, Mexico, and Canada, Trump offered the sort of response one imagines from a casino owner who has just been informed that diplomacy exists. He said he “really didn’t care.” Not exactly the language of a gracious statesman preparing to welcome the world. Not even the language of a man pretending to care about the grandeur of international sport. It was petulant, bored, and casually imperial, which is to say it was perfectly on brand.
Then came the pivot, because with Trump there is always a pivot from brute force to theatrical benevolence whenever he senses that benevolence might photograph better. A week later, FIFA president Gianni Infantino emerged from a meeting with him carrying the reassuring message that Iran was, “of course,” welcome to come compete in the United States. “Of course” is such a marvelous phrase in this context because it comes wrapped in fake inevitability and counterfeit grace. It makes the whole thing sound civilized, as if nobody had been threatened, excluded, bombed, banned, or turned into a geopolitical prop five minutes earlier. “Of course” is what one says when one wants credit for generosity while frantically hoping nobody notices the velvet rope, the armed guards, and the guest list composed by people who confuse domination with order.
It was a perfect Trumpian tableau. First the shrug, then the soft-focus magnanimity, then the implied request for admiration. Look at the great man, rising above petty conflict for the love of the beautiful game. Look at him setting aside animosity so that football may unite humanity. Look at him behaving, for one brief and miraculous second, like a functioning host of a global event rather than a nightclub owner deciding which faces belong past the cordon. It was the kind of scene that only works if everybody agrees to participate in the fiction. Iran, gloriously, did not.
The next day, Iran’s sports minister said participation in the World Cup was “not possible.” Not “awkward,” not “under discussion,” not something to be evaluated by committee after a productive round of consultations. Simply, “not possible.” The bluntness of the response was what gave it its comic timing. Trump and Infantino had barely finished arranging the lighting for the magnanimity photo op before Iranian officials came in and kicked over the set. It was, in essence, a rejection not just of the invitation but of the story Trump was trying to tell about the invitation. He was prepared to cast himself as the large-souled host, dispensing grace to a nation in crisis. Iran’s answer was that it had no interest in playing grateful guest in his vanity pageant.
Foreign Sports Affairs Open Thread: <em>“Not Possible”</em>Post + Comments (192)
