When I learned Seattle had been selected as one of the host
cities for the FIFA Club World Cup, I was ecstatic.
Growing up in Uganda, the World Cup was the event.
Every four years the world seemed to pause. Flags everywhere. Dreams
everywhere. Stories everywhere. One universal language: cheering for whoever
managed to get the ball into the net.
So, when the tournament came to my backyard, I wanted to be
part of it. Not just as a spectator, but as someone helping make the magic
happen.
Then I saw the ticket prices.
An arm, a leg, and possibly a kidney.
Volunteering suddenly seemed like the perfect solution.
The Long Road to Becoming a Volunteer
The application process was anything but glamorous. There
was paperwork, an in-person interview, multiple trips to Seattle for training
and uniform pickup, and one memorable day that ended with a $40 parking ticket
after what I thought would be a quick stop.
Before the matches even began, though, something else was
bothering me.
I'd hoped the tournament would be a celebration where fans
and players from every corner of the world could participate freely. Instead,
stories about visa problems kept surfacing.
Swiss striker Embolo joined his team late after his visa was
reviewed. An Iraqi player was detained for hours upon arrival. Iranian team
members faced visa denials and restrictions that meant some could only enter on
match days.
I volunteered the day Iran played. After my shift, I learned
the players had to leave the country immediately after the match. Anyone who
has traveled internationally knows how exhausting that is. After playing 90
minutes of elite football, they were heading straight back to the airport.
That didn't feel like the spirit of the game.
Match Day Reality
Our volunteer shifts started five hours before kickoff.
Coming from Tacoma meant catching a 6 a.m. bus to make it to
the stadium by 7 for a noon match. Thankfully, FIFA provided us with an ORCA
transit card, which saved my wallet.
I was assigned to the pre-ceremony team, which meant
carrying and rolling out the giant FIFA flag before the national anthems.
Walking onto the pitch was incredible.
Unfortunately, the excitement lasted about ten minutes.
Once the ceremony ended, volunteers were sent home because
FIFA's policy is clear: volunteering does not include access to the matches.
Standing around for hours before those ten glorious minutes
gave me plenty of time to rethink my "why."
Most of us had signed up because we genuinely loved
football. Secretly, many of us also hoped we'd get to experience the biggest
sporting event in the world from the inside.
Instead, there were long shifts, strict rules, and some
truly puzzling decisions. My favorite was learning during one of the training sessions
that each volunteer was entitled to just one bottle of water. Water. At an
all-day outdoor event sponsored by the
makers of Dasani bottled water.
That one nearly took me out.
Walking off the field after using eight hours of paid time
off for ten minutes on the pitch left me wondering if I'd misunderstood the
assignment.
Finding My Way Back
Thankfully, I wasn't doing it alone.
One of my friends ended up on the same volunteer team. After
the first match, I unloaded all my frustrations onto her. As a sports fanatic, She
listened... and looked completely unbothered.
It honestly felt like I was speaking Mandarin.
She was simply thrilled to be there, and nothing I said was
going to change that.
Slowly, her attitude rubbed off on me.
I challenged myself to return to one of my favorite mantras:
count the blessings.
By the final match in Seattle on July 6, I found myself
doing exactly that.
I appreciated the wonderful people I met, the surprisingly
effective upper-body workout from rolling giant flags, and the privilege of
standing on a FIFA pitch, even if only briefly.
Then, after our final shift, I asked if she was going to the
volunteer appreciation party.
Without missing a beat, she said:
"Bus ride hustle, sandwiches, burning Kasana, treating
us like kids, freebies... I'm tired. Sitting there watching women's soccer
isn't bad, but I'm not wasting my Sunday doing that."
I burst out laughing and teased her wondering what had
happened to enthusiasm of the MVP volunteer..
Then it hit me, the thank you party had come a little too
late because more than the freebies like a beach towel, the real prize would
have been to be a spectator of at least one FIFA tournament.
My Final Reflection
Would I volunteer again?
Probably not.
The long shifts, expensive commute, limited access, and
overall volunteer experience left a lot to be desired. I also couldn't ignore
how many fans were priced out of attending, or how visa issues kept people from
fully participating in what should have been a global celebration.
There were moments when it felt like football had become
more about business than belonging.
But life has taught me that we don't get to choose every
experience. We do get to choose what we take from it.
I'm choosing to remember the friendships, the laughter, the
giant flag, the once-in-a-lifetime experience of stepping onto that field, and
the reminder that gratitude is sometimes a choice we have to make
intentionally.
So yes, I'm retiring my FIFA volunteer badge.
But I'm keeping the blessings.
