No samba in the swamp - How New York/New Jersey Stadium’s tight setup muted Brazil in odd World Cup opener

The walk around MetLife is usually long. This is a cavernous stadium, dumped in wetlands between New York and Newark. It is, effectively, an industrial spaceship in a swamp. Sun beats off the harsh tarmac. But on at least eight occasions every fall and winter, the parking lot is barely visible. It is, instead, covered in cars, littered with beer cans, and broken up by grills and coolers. For all of MetLife's faults - there are many - it is an excellent place to tailgate.

That would seem to suit soccer fans. This is, after all, a culture that thrives on the ritual of gathering before a game. And fans, historically, even at American stadiums, have made it work. Colombia and Canada executed the art perfectly at the much smaller but equally awkwardly positioned Sports Illustrated Arena last year in a friendly, when Colombian fans showed up in droves to create a lively pre-match atmosphere.

FIFA has not banned tailgating outright. But the matchday setup made it virtually impossible. Large stretches of the MetLife parking lot have been repurposed for event and support staff. A significant chunk is used for drop off and rideshare. Security, media, police: these are all things that take up plenty of space. Throw in the fact that FIFA has installed a substantial security perimeter, likely informed, at least in part, by the fiasco that was the 2024 Copa America final, and the pre-match atmosphere feels stale.

Instead, on Saturday, fans were left with a long walk to complement a frustrating journey. Traveling to MetLife felt less like an adventure than a commute. There was a distinct lack of buzz, a draining of energy before supporters ever reached the stadium.

The journey is not a simple one. Fans traveling from New York's Penn Station have to take NJ Transit to Secaucus Junction - effectively a transport hub just across the state line - before boarding a matchday-only train to the Meadowlands. In the past, it has been a confusing venture.

In fairness, there was little confusion here. It was an expensive journey, costing $98 for a round-trip ticket per person, but it was not especially complicated. An NJ Transit worker, who had been asked to sign up for extra shifts because of the World Cup, remarked to GOAL that it was “nice to see so many jerseys.” Spectators were directed to the corner of 32nd and 6th in Midtown, had their tickets checked twice, were ushered through security, handed tight wristbands, had their tickets checked again and were required to show those wristbands at regular points throughout the hour-long journey. If there were concerns about fans without tickets making their way to the stadium, they were certainly allayed.

The issue is that, when everything is so tightly managed, there is little room left for spontaneity. Soccer crowds usually carry some sense of controlled disorder. Chants are supposed to build. Supporters are supposed to gather, wander, sing, drift and create their own momentum. Here, there were a few cans of beer in brown paper bags - a charming throwback - but chants were stopped before they could really begin. There were no drums on trains, no marches toward security gates, no sense of a crowd slowly taking over the route to the stadium. It was orderly and efficient enough. It was also strangely flat.

And perhaps this is the outcome the host committee, and FIFA at large, were willing to accept. It has been, remember, a messy build up to the tournament. At one point, train tickets - usually priced at $12.90 for a round trip - were slated to set fans back $150. The number was later decreased to $105, and then further down to $98. In effect, the game was $50 per person cheaper than it might have been a couple of months ago - and well-monitored.

This does come, it must be acknowledged, amidst a complicated backdrop. The New York/New Jersey host committee has been a messy affair for months. There are, in effect, four bodies at play here: The state of New York, the state of New Jersey, the New York City government and FIFA. New Jersey has been steadfast in its unwillingness to negotiate with FIFA. That came to fruition most recently when their attorney general, in conjunction with the attorney general of New York, subpoenaed football's governing body, asking for clarity on sky-high ticket prices at New York/New Jersey Stadium. Whether it will lead to anything is beside the point - this is as close as it gets to open warfare.

Others have been more open to negotiation. Zohran Mamdani, an avid soccer fan in his own right, has made it clear that he is willing to engage in talks with FIFA President Gianni Infantino. Sources close to the mayor stressed to GOAL that a close relationship between the two helped secure some significant wins for the city of New York. The results were on show on Saturday, with 1,000 fans who paid just $50 for tickets, transported on a free bus to the stadium. Mamdani's government also negotiated a free watch party for the final, as well as fan zones in all boroughs throughout the tournament (FIFA initially announced ticketed fan zones with $10 entry in December of last year).

Those clashes of interest yielded a strange journey. And the match was a similarly strange affair.

Brazil versus Morocco is, in theory, as good as group stage games get in this bloated tournament. But this is a different Brazil side from the stereotypes of old. In Carlo Ancelotti, they have a shrewd manager who can build a solid team. He has been brought on to, in effect, manage a squad full of Brazilians who play in Europe. His best two players practice their craft at Real Madrid and Barcelona. But Ancelotti has always been a defense-first manager. His Brazil are not sexy but stout. Neymar, as close to samba as it gets, is well short of full fitness, and here because it would be riotous if he weren't.

Morocco, meanwhile, are either the first or second best team in Africa, darlings of the 2022 World Cup, and in possession of a handful of world-class talents. And for 20 minutes, Morocco battered Brazil. Achraf Hakimi scampered like a squirrel down the right wing. Lille youngster Ayyoub Bouaddi pivoted and darted through the middle, dancing around the leggy duo of Bruno Guimaraes and Casemiro. Brahim Diaz was the decisive player, though, and he provided a delightful assist for PSV's Ismael Saibari, who lifted over Alisson after 21 minutes.

There is much controversy over hydration breaks at the World Cup. But here, in 90-plus degree heat, it's easy to see why they are needed. And whatever Ancelotti said to his Selecao side during the first, it worked. They looked a different team for the last 20 minutes of the first half. Vinicius Jr scored off his first real chance, cutting inside Hakimi and lashing a ball into the top corner. A Brazilian section that was surprisingly subdued after a slow start sprung into life.

From there, it should have been game on. These are two good sides who look set to battle it out for the top position in Group C. Instead, they let the game fizzle out in the summer sun. Both managers made changes. The two teams combined for just one big chance in the second half. Ancelotti, speaking after the game, said the point was entirely agreeable, nothing more.

"This is the result we had. It wasn't bad... you don't win a World Cup based on your first match," he said.

It was a game that suited the day. Nothing went wrong. Bare minimums were hit. But nothing about the day felt particularly special. Everything was orderly, proper, normal. And perhaps that is the kind of World Cup that FIFA is able to deliver, at least on matchdays. The videos of Scotland fans swarming Fenway Park, and a viral German discovering Waffle House have added a charm - and shown that America can be an excellent holiday destination.

But, at least in the New York/New Jersey setup, where does the matchday figure in all of this? One Brazilian fan, after seeing his section emptied by security following reports of supporters sitting in the wrong seats, framed it as a cultural issue.

“This is America. They don't understand the culture. They see drums, they see people standing on the seats. It's too much,” he said.

A FIFA spokesperson said state police were protecting fans with tickets for that section and removed those who were sitting in the wrong seats.

Whether that moment says something larger about the venue remains to be seen. This was one game, in one stadium. But it was also what Americans might call “opening day” at the venue due to host the final. And 12 months before, a contest in a tournament that carries significantly less weight felt more alive. That ran in stark contrast with the image high up on the concourse.

In fact, there wasn't much happening no matter which way you turned. Forget concerns over pricing and logistics. Monotony might be the worst sin of all.

Click here to read article