Reports emerge that the 2026 World Cup, a tournament sprawling across North America, is facing ballooning costs. UK infrastructure experts, ever the harbingers of fiscal doom, warn of budget overruns that would make a Nero blush. One can almost hear the ghost of Isambard Kingdom Brunel sighing from his grave.
This is not merely a sporting event; it is a monument to modern hubris. We have seen this play before. The Roman Empire crumbled under the weight of its public spectacles.
The Victorian era, for all its industrial might, gave us the Tay Bridge disaster. Now, we gift posterity a football tournament that may cost more than the GDP of a small nation. The parallels are stark: decadence, mismanagement, and a relentless drive to burn cash for spectacle.
Will 2026 be remembered for its glorious goals or its glorious deficits? The experts have spoken. But will the organisers listen?
Unlikely. After all, in the theatre of the absurd, the show must go on.
