Monday June 15th 2026
It’s that time again. The World Cup is upon us. The biggest and most sprawling of all time. 16 more teams than last time round. 40 more games than last time. One more knock out round than last time. If you are going to win it, or come runners up, you need to play eight games and not seven.
Instead of sticking to one country, we have three, Canada, Mexico and the USA. There’s a little bit of precedent for this as the 2002 World Cup was jointly held between Japan and South Korea. For me that’s the best World Cup I have ever been to and I just don’t ever see it being beaten.
But the FIFA World Cup 2026 is on a geographical scale that trumps all of its predecessors. And it’s the third, yes third time Mexico have played hosts in my lifetime.
So as we fly to Austin, Texas, this World Cup is very, very different for me on a personal level. This time, the two greatest inspirations in my life, my Mum and my Dad, are far from in good health and that makes me incredibly sad and incredibly guilty at the same time.
When I visited my Dad in hospital before I departed, I am not sure he knew where I was headed and why. He did say to me, ‘take care of yourself’ which has always been his standard message. When I phoned Mum last night, she sort of knew where I was going, but also said to me ‘please be careful’. When I said, ‘Mum, I always do, please don’t worry about me’ something which has not always been true down the years following England) she replied simply, ‘I just can’t help it Andrew’.
Both of these reactions have really hit me on so many levels. But it does take me back to two phrases my parents always told me.
Dad always said, ‘we’re not here for long so do what you think is right every single time’.
Mum always said, ‘don’t let anyone tell you you can’t do what you want to do. No one’.
Indeed, my Mum got tripped up by her advice when I was very young. Actually I am not sure she’d even bestowed her fiercely determined wisdom on me at that age. But I can remember it as clear as day. I was watching the 1970 World Cup, from Mexico on the telly with my Grandad, the man who told me that I was West Ham. When England got knocked out by Germany 3-2 having led 2-0, I literally cried my eyes out. But I told my Mum, when I was old enough, I would go to every single World Cup where England qualify. She chided me and said ‘you will not’ to which I replied, ‘yes I will, watch me’.
We never qualified in 1974 and 1978, but I would have been too young to travel. But when we qualified for the 1982 World Cup in Spain, me and three friends went. On a thing called The Magic Bus. It was complete and utter madness from the start until the end. I have relieved our school of their Union flag and painted West Ham on it. Before the trip was done, I had a stay in hospital to treat a whacking great slash down my face and a stabbing in my chest. Worse still it was all over the U.K. news, something I was completely unaware of until I got home to a very ‘warm’ welcome at home.
The whole trip cost about £100 – tickets were so cheap and so easy and we stayed where we could afford, even a couple of nights on the beach outside of Bilbao.
Not many England went back in those days, but the vast majority of us were young and our dads and uncles were nowhere near us.
Such a contrast to today’s World Cup. Everything is capitalism at its worst. Tickets are hideously expensive as are flights and places to stay. Football has gone from the sport of the working class to another ‘experience’, or ‘moment’ captured and bragged about on social media. So many of my mates who have travelled down the years just won’t or can’t go. FIFA are happy with the whole ‘fan experience’ as it paints a very ‘aspirational’ picture which suits their commercial goals just fine. It’s not about who can go, it’s about who can afford to go.
Of the four of us who went to Spain together and then Mexico together four years later, only two of us are still alive, I won’t say how they died, but suffice to say times were very different and less empathetic back then.
This thought occurred to me as I watched the whole of ‘Dear England’ on the plane. What a great piece of work that was. Hugely inspirational and emotional. Gareth Southgate changed everything and it showed. A World Cup semi final and quarter final, and two European Championship finals. No England manager has achieved that consistency ever.
So this time, more than any other time, this World Cup takes on a real poignance for me and for Kirsty, who has been with me at England tournaments since 2004.
Mum and Dad, I love you. More than you will ever know. Que sera sera.
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