Trump's Podium Moment Sums Up Club World Cup's Identity Crisis
Chelsea’s celebration can’t distract from the circus around it
Chelsea's Triumph Means Fat Less Than FIFA Think It Does
I did not watch a minute of the 2025 Club World Cup. Not because I missed it by accident or had something better to do, but because tournaments like this do not command my interest. If you offered me a free flight, box seats and a backstage pass to the half-time concert, I would still have stayed at home. Football at the highest level now often feels more like brand theatre than sport, and this tournament was its gaudy apex.
Chelsea won it, and good luck to them. But spare me the declarations that they are now the "champions of the world", as if any serious supporter, analyst or even neutral is buying that line. The truth, as was clear to anyone who read about it, is that this Club World Cup was not about football. It was about image, power and, above all, revenue. FIFA’s president Gianni Infantino has long hungered for a slice of club football's commercial pie, and now he’s elbowed his way to the table.
Chelsea’s 3-0 win over Paris Saint-Germain was well-received by their fans and carried all the noise you would expect from such an occasion. But strip away the fireworks and you’re left with a hollow core. Chelsea earned over $100 million for lifting a trophy that previously lay forgotten in FIFA’s archives, and in doing so, lent temporary legitimacy to a tournament that still lacks it. The Club World Cup has been repackaged and sold back to the public as a newly minted prize, but it remains what it has always been: an elaborate marketing tool.
Political Theatre Dressed As Football
There is no way to make sense of Donald Trump standing on a football podium in New Jersey, handing out medals, unless you view the entire event as political theatre. The US President was booed by parts of the crowd, lingered too long on stage and looked completely at odds with the moment. Chelsea captain Reece James had to motion politely for him to move aside before lifting the trophy. Gianni Infantino smiled awkwardly beside him, perhaps sensing how surreal the whole thing had become.
These antics were not an unfortunate side show. They were the show. Trump’s presence, his grin, his medal, even his post-match ramblings about NATO and global unity during a DAZN interview, were not deviations from the plan. They were part of the spectacle. In fact, they were arguably the most memorable part of the night, and that is the problem. When a football tournament’s lasting image is not a goal or a save but a politician refusing to leave the stage, you know you’ve lost the thread.
Infantino’s use of football as a vehicle for personal influence has become increasingly blatant. From courting autocrats to inserting his own signature twice on the trophy, his strategy is not subtle. He wants to be seen as the man who reshaped global football, and if that means inflating the Club World Cup into a summer blockbuster complete with Coldplay and Robbie Williams, then so be it.
Prestige Cannot Be Bought
For a tournament that aims to crown the best club in the world, the 2025 edition did not even include the reigning champions of England, Spain or Italy. Liverpool, Barcelona and Napoli were nowhere to be seen. Chelsea, who qualified by virtue of winning the Champions League three years ago, have since undergone a full transformation. Only Reece James remained from that squad. Most of the team that won this title were not even at the club when they earned their spot in it.
Meanwhile, PSG had taken the harder path. They eliminated Liverpool, Arsenal, Aston Villa and then destroyed Inter Milan 5-0 in the Champions League final. By contrast, Chelsea’s route to the final involved modest opponents from the Conference League and lesser resistance in the Club World Cup knockouts. Yet one game on American soil, and they’re world champions.
This is not a critique of Chelsea, nor a comment on their form. It is simply the absurdity of the concept. A tournament cannot be meaningful just because someone says it is. Competitions earn their prestige over time, not through corporate deals or exaggerated ceremonies. The Champions League is what it is because of the drama, quality and history that have defined it for decades. You cannot replicate that with Coldplay, gold medals and presidential appearances.
Infantino will argue otherwise. He’ll point to the money, the sponsors, the packed MetLife Stadium and the social media buzz. But all that proves is that a well-funded circus can sell tickets. It says nothing about the footballing merit of what’s on offer.
The Game’s Saturation Point Has Arrived
If there was one thing the past month confirmed, it’s that football is losing its grip on authenticity. We are in a permanent state of competition now. From domestic leagues and Champions League to the Club World Cup and endless international windows, there is no room left to breathe. This tournament, wedged awkwardly into what should have been a summer break, left players exhausted, clubs disrupted and fans confused.
Chelsea’s squad will now enjoy a shortened pre-season while their domestic rivals are already deep into preparation for the new campaign. PSG, likewise, will feel the weight of the schedule come autumn. Yet nobody in power seems concerned. Infantino even suggested that this event might one day overtake the Champions League in importance. It is a laughable idea, but not one to be taken lightly, because in FIFA's current world, perception often matters more than substance.
Football’s biggest problem is not oversaturation alone. It is that the people in charge see no limit to what they can monetise. The more the sport grows, the more its moments get buried under the weight of promotion. The half-time show lasted 24 minutes and was staged so far from the pitch that fans inside the stadium had to watch it on a screen. This is not football as a community experience. It is content creation.
Palmer swore in a post-match interview. He also downplayed his own brilliance by saying only that he “likes finals”. In that one moment of honesty, he cut through the noise. He ignored the circus, ignored the show, and just played football. Maybe that is why his performance stood out. In a landscape overrun by pageantry, authenticity still has power.