• Atlanta's FIFA Fan Festival features concerts, activations, and a stadium-like atmosphere for fans.
• It's drawn 450,000 visitors so far, offering free entry and a vibrant atmosphere.
• Attendees praised Atlanta's diversity and welcoming vibe at the lively FIFA Fan Festival.

I'm not the biggest World Cup fan, so when the first general-admission tickets went on sale earlier this year, it didn't cross my mind to check the prices for an individual game.

World Cup tickets reportedly hit the market at seven times the expected rate, with one consumer telling Business Insider that they spent over $2,000 on a single ticket through FIFA's resale portal. Unfortunately, even if I wanted to attend, my bank account wasn't prepared to support such behavior.

Lucky for me, in addition to the actual games, FIFA launched 13 Fan Festivals across Canada, Mexico, and the US. I figured this would be my best option for joining the festivities.

I found it hard to ignore all the World Cup fanfare in Atlanta, my home city

It was equally hard to ignore the starting price for attending the Atlanta FIFA Fan Festival: $0.

Guests still had to reserve both free and paid tickets online.

The sold-out festival is taking place at the Centennial Olympic Park, right around the corner from Mercedes-Benz Stadium, where seven World Cup matches have already been held. Atlanta will host its final match on July 15.

With tickets ranging from free general admission to $325 VIP packages, Atlanta's FIFA Fan Festival has drawn more than 450,000 visitors, according to organizers, making it one of the country's most-attended events alongside Philadelphia's FIFA Fan Fest and Miami's.

After checking out the hype for myself, I had such a good time with the music, concerts, activations, free swag, and energetic crowds that I went twice.

On my second visit to the Atlanta FIFA Fan Festival on June 26, I asked attendees why they think it's consistently been one of the country's most-attended Fan Festivals.

Here are the guests who stood out from the crowd and what they shared.

Atlanta's diversity is on full display

Twin sisters Shanteria and Siera W. told BI that World Cup tickets were out of their budget. They only spent $15 on drinks to stay hydrated at the Atlanta Fan Fest.

"Atlanta has just upgraded into something more and more popular," Shanteria said. "Atlanta is diverse. You can come from any culture, any background, and just have fun."

"Everybody comes from different places, and we welcome everybody," Siera added.

The crowd and giant screen create a stadium-like atmosphere

Another team Mexico fan, Daniel S., caught my attention with his small group of friends.

Daniel, who shared that he's also an Atlanta FIFA Fan Fest volunteer, was enjoying the match between Spain and Uruguay on the 40-foot jumbo screen. Out of all the ways to watch the World Cup, being in a crowd of up to 15,000 with a few close friends is memorable and one of his highlights.

Atlanta knows how to host major sporting events

Torrence, a Chicago native who lives in Atlanta, said he didn't bother looking at World Cup tickets.

He spent about $40 on drinks and enjoyed running into his frat brother while taking in the festivities. He was rooting for Côte d'Ivoire, which lost to Norway in the first knockout round.

"Atlanta's a good city, good atmosphere. Super Bowl, College Football Championship — they're always doing something here," Torrence said. "I'm with it. I'm out here having a good time"

Visitors found getting to the festival easy

Friends Rebecca and Anna took MARTA into the city to watch Spain, which has advanced to the semifinals.

The pair said they spent about $6 each after driving from Johns Creek, Georgia, to the nearest train station. They also didn't bother looking up World Cup tickets due to the high prices.

Both ladies found the Atlanta FIFA Fan Fest to be a fun and affordable way to experience the World Cup.

The Atlanta FIFA Fan Festival celebrated more than the World Cup teams

The festival was filled with jerseys from countries that weren't even competing in the World Cup. As a Liberian, I immediately spotted a Liberia soccer jersey in the crowd and had to speak with Jordan McGlotten, whose family is also from the country.

McGlotten, who is from Virginia and lives in Atlanta, was on his third visit to the festival and said he spent roughly $80 altogether.

"We've got a little bit of everything," McGlotten said. "It's very diverse. We have a lot of different nationalities. We have the trees, we have the skyline, we have everything."

He also reminded me that the US Soccer headquarters and national training center are just south of Atlanta, making it somewhat of a soccer city.

Being at the festival felt like being a part of history

Joi and Xavier, a couple cheering for Haiti, said the Atlanta FIFA Fan Festival had amazing vibes.

This was Haiti's first time in 52 years competing at the World Cup. Speaking with Haitian fans felt like being a part of the long-awaited return. Though Haiti was knocked out in the group stage, the Atlanta FIFA Fan Festival wasn't about fans simply cheering on their team. It was about culture, pride, and unity.

After spending time there, I can see why Atlanta's FIFA Fan Festival has become one of the country's busiest.

• Fareed Kotb is a 39-year-old sports photographer who lives in Cairo.
• He was a photographer at the last two World Cups, and this year, he wanted to try something different.
• He bought a camera made in 1930 and took a slow approach to photographing two World Cup games.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Fareed Kotb. It has been edited for length and clarity.

After photographing two World Cups in Russia and Qatar, I wanted my third to be different.

I somehow wanted to connect to the first World Cup in 1930, nearly 100 years ago, and decided to do this; I would take photographs with a camera made in 1930.

I bought a 1930s camera in Cairo

In Cairo, we have a market for vintage cameras. I narrowed it down to four cameras, settling on one I found in a big box — a Zeiss Ikon Ideal 250/11.

The camera, I learned after researching the origin of the serial number, was owned by a photographer who used it to photograph players before they traveled to the 1954 World Cup. He also photographed Egyptian players before the 1936 Berlin Olympics.

In the lead-up to the 2026 World Cup, I spent a lot of time learning how the camera worked. I practiced loading film, focusing, setting the exposure, and taking test photos. I read old manuals and learned about the camera's history — it was like studying for university.

It was important to me to be completely comfortable using the camera before taking it to the World Cup.

With this camera, you don't get limitless chances to get a good photo as you do with digital cameras — everything is slower. I had to carefully plan my movements and the photos I wanted to capture before the games because you only get one chance.

With a digital camera, I can quickly decide when to shoot, and a second later, I can see the result.

But with my 1930 camera, I knew I could take no more than 20 photos each game. As a comparison, at one game in the last World Cup, I took 5,000 photos.

I would need to trust my experience and wait until I developed the film to see the final result.

I was denied permission to shoot the World Cup final

Heading to Canada, I felt very excited to use the camera. When I arrived, people — fans, photographers, and volunteers — mocked when they saw the camera — they had never seen a camera like it.

Walking onto that pitch in Canada with a camera nearly 100 years old was a highlight of the tournament for me. I knew that every photo I took, I would be connecting the past with the present. That was very special.

I photographed two games: Portugal versus Croatia in Toronto and Colombia versus Switzerland in Vancouver.

Although it was my dream to shoot at the final in America, I was denied four times, which was difficult.

But for the two games I was able to attend, I thought about what the last photographer using the camera must be thinking. How would he shoot moments? How would he position himself to take a photo?

My movements were planned, my eyes constantly darting left and right to know when to shoot.

I've now returned home to Egypt and will develop them in the lab on Sunday. I feel as if I am preparing for the birth of my first baby. I can't sleep and am constantly overthinking. Will the photos be good?

I can't wait to see the results, and neither can all the people who have followed me on social media after hearing about this project.

After I posted online about the camera, I woke up the next morning to messages and comments from people interested in the results and excited about this very new but old way of taking photos in 2026.

Now, we just wait.

• I promised my sons a trip to the World Cup. Sixteen years later, I couldn't afford to make it happen.
• After I wrote about breaking that promise, a stranger offered to fly all three of us to the match.
• I was so sure it was a scam that I reported it to the FBI.

For sixteen years, the same photo has been my Facebook cover. It's me and my twin boys, Charlie and Thomas, then 3, in matching Australia jerseys, taken before I flew to the 2010 World Cup. I crouched beside them shortly after my marriage ended and promised that when they were older, I'd take them to a World Cup of their own. They were too young to understand, but I meant it.

We talked about it for years, always aiming for 2026. But when I priced the trip, it stopped being a holiday and became a house payment. I sat them down, showed them the cost, and asked if they still wanted it. They said no and meant it. I was the one who couldn't let go of the dream.

So I wrote about it. Then, everything changed.

A stranger sent me a message

A few days after the article ran, a man named Avi messaged me on LinkedIn. His profile had no photo and 21 followers, and I almost ignored it. He'd read the piece and asked if it was true. When I said it was, he offered to fly the three of us from Australia to Seattle to watch Australia play the US, and to cover the flights, accommodation, and tickets.

I thought there had to be a catch, so I searched his name. Google revealed him to be a business founder, which was enough to give me hope. I sent him photos of our passports.

My family told me I'd been scammed

Then the messages stopped, and my excitement turned into dread. I had sent copies of my children's passports to a random stranger. I pasted the messages into ChatGPT, which stated there was a 100% chance it was a scam. I called my bank, the passport office, and the police. I even emailed the FBI, who surely had better things to do.

My wife said what I already knew. Nobody would offer a free trip to a stranger. "You're stupid," she told me. I had to agree.

Even so, a small part of me thought there was a 1% chance it was real. For the next eight hours, I swung between the certainty I'd been played and the small hope I hadn't.

I couldn't believe my eyes

Avi messaged back. I told him I wanted to FaceTime, sure this would be the moment of truth. He called. Avi told me he was a father too and knew what my promise meant. He wanted to do something good with no strings attached.

Soon after, he messaged to say the airfares were booked. I typed in the confirmation number on the United website, expecting nothing. Three confirmed seats appeared on the screen, under my name and the boys'. It was past midnight, which made it my birthday. I just sat there staring at the screen.

In the morning, the match tickets were transferred to my FIFA account. When they hit my account, I told the boys we were flying to the US in two days. They reacted the way I had, certain it was too good to be true.

When it came time to pack, the only things they put in their bags were soccer jerseys. Even heading to the airport, I was unsure if this was still happening. It was only when the cabin doors closed that I let myself believe it. We were crossing the Pacific and back for four days, all for a single match.

In Seattle, my boys led the chants

We made every hour in Seattle about the tournament, because I wanted my sons to feel what I felt in South Africa in 2010. We visited fan sites and watched every match.

On the morning of the game, we crammed into Victory Hall with thousands of other Australians. I had a beer in my hand at 7 a.m. because I'm an Aussie and it was a match day. Grown men in green and gold, belting out songs, drinking beer out of their shoes, drums banging. My boys had never seen anything like it.

From there, the streets turned into a moving crowd. Singing, chanting, people spilling toward the stadium in waves. Charlie was on crutches, weeks after knee surgery, refusing to slow down. His brother stayed beside him the whole way, leading the chants.

It usually takes an act of God to get a teenager to show that kind of joy in public. Both of mine were grinning the entire way. Walking into the stadium with my arms around both of them felt unreal. For a moment, the three of us just stood there. I thought about the photo from 2010, and how long I'd waited to take another one. Then we took it, the same three faces, same positions, and the same grins. Except I was now the shortest one.

I sent the photo to Avi, who replied: "I'm just so glad I had the balls to do it."

Seventy-two hours earlier, Avi was a stranger with no photo and 21 followers. A man I had never met had spent thousands of dollars so two teenagers he would never meet could be happy. I made a promise to two 3-year-olds who had no idea what I was saying. Sixteen years later, a stranger made it happen in three days.

Now I can change that Facebook photo.

• Motherhood changed my perspective on the World Cup.
• The six-week tournament on the global stage creates a tangible connection to heritage.
• It makes memories and deepens relationships between families and across oceans.

It all started with a onesie, as so many parenthood journeys do.

The Ipswich Town Tractor Boys gear traveled across the Atlantic before I snuck it onto my then-infant son, just before my husband arrived home. Adorable photos of the drool-covered shirt followed, sent back across the pond to Ipswich, England, the epicenter of my father-in-law's family.

It was a reason to connect — one that wouldn't have happened without our family's shared love of country and capturing moments that remind us of one another.

The onesie spurred a different reaction when my Belgian grandmother and father saw their pride and joy, the one and only baby wearing the colors of an English football club. "The English?! He should be wearing Red Devil red!" exclaimed my grandmother, with a delivery that bordered on genuine betrayal.

Becoming a parent made me see these interactions between family members as long-lasting connections and pivotal memories, not just silly quips at a sporting event.

Motherhood changed my perspective

By the time of the Women's World Cup later that summer, a lighthearted rivalry had formed (Belgium didn't even qualify that year, but that didn't simmer my family's bubbling pride). My 4'5", 80-pound grandmother had outsize opinions about every decision on the pitch.

Cheering my grandfather on at years of weekend games, she wielded words capable of besting anyone's strongest kick. Other countless memories help fill the multi-year gaps between tournaments, like my grandmother and father-in-law's sheepish chuckles and simultaneous "santé!" and "cheers!" as glasses chinked. Or the audible disbelief at a call that was simply unjust to everyone on the pitch. And, all the proud comments about my son's various traits as evidence of his Belgian or English heritage.

In stark contrast, I can't tell you a thing about prior World Cups. I likely passively watched, enjoying the game, but not for the reasons that matter now.

Multigenerational moments are fleeting

I became a mom, and suddenly the moments on screen were truly part of the background; I was watching the moments in the room.

Motherhood has made me keenly aware of these fleeting multi-generation interactions and how readily they slip away without intention. My dear grandmother died in 2024. I will miss her elegant outrage at the ref's calls and the players' decisions. I know my Dad will represent Belgium in this year's World Cup, complete with a click of the tongue and an exasperated sigh, unwittingly echoing my grandmother's to a tee.

Add in shared culture, country-themed snacks, and friendly competition, and you have cherished memories in the making. I daydream about my rambunctious toddler dashing into the yard to greet his grandfathers, surprising them in his Belgium, England, or even US kit. Jeers will be hurled based on his selection, but so will love and enthusiasm.

The World Cup is a time to connect with our heritage

For my children, this summer is a rare at-home immersion into the cultures that define their grandfathers and of which their great-grandmother was deeply proud.

I imagine US parents living abroad may experience similar feelings on Super Bowl Sunday or during March Madness, but it can't compete with the World Cup. More than 100 games spread over six-ish weeks extends the tradition, winning it the title of my favorite sporting event — an admittedly unexpected statement for an American (who grew up watching the Super Bowl).

This World Cup will ground my children in family legacy, strengthen connections in the present, and create memories and shared interests for the future.

Unlike a book or photos, the stadium's palpable energy, chants and songs, and the homemade family recipes at watch parties make culture easy to grasp — no matter how small the tiny hands. My son will experience why one side of the family wears black, yellow, and red, and the other red and blue, knowing he can feel at home in each.

This will be the first time my son sees Belgium and England play in the World Cup, heightening the rivalry and making the experience more tangible.

The further Belgium, England, the US, (or any other team for which we have a smidgen of affinity) make it, the longer the family connections and memory-making magic — that's what I'm in it for.

• Worchihan Zingkhai is a lifelong football fan, but seeing the World Cup in person felt out of reach.
• He lives in a town in northeast India where salaries are low. He'd been saving up for a new laptop.
• Instead, he pooled his earnings to afford two World Cup tickets in Atlanta. He has no regrets.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Worchihan Zingkhai, 40, a content creator from a village in Manipur, India. The conversation has been edited for length and clarity.

I've loved football for as long as I can remember.

Growing up in a village in Manipur, in northeast India, football is everywhere. We don't have proper equipment, so we make footballs out of plastic and old clothes rolled into a ball.

I can still remember staying awake until 3 a.m. to watch my first World Cup in 1998. We had one black-and-white TV for the entire village, and we pooled money to buy fuel for a generator to power it.

Since then, I've watched every World Cup on television. I became a fan of Portugal and later followed the Premier League. However, attending a World Cup match in person always felt impossible.

Now, nearly 30 years later, I'm finally going.

The laptop will have to wait

Making this trip requires a lot more than buying a match ticket.

My village sits about 5,600 feet above sea level, and there isn't an airport nearby. I'll drive about six hours to Imphal before flying to New Delhi, London, Washington, DC, and finally Atlanta. The trip includes four flights and about 27 hours in the air.

The journey would have been much harder without help from my wife's family. My father-in-law paid for our flights from New Delhi to Washington, DC, and my in-laws are helping with accommodations in the US. Having family there has made the trip much more affordable.

Even with that support, I've had to make sacrifices financially.

I'm a content creator who makes videos for YouTube, Instagram, and Facebook. This year, I planned to buy a new laptop for video editing. I was looking at models that cost between $2,200 and $2,500.

However, I couldn't afford both the laptop and the World Cup trip, so the laptop will have to wait.

In my area, people often earn about 500 rupees a day, or roughly $5 to $6. Because of that, we're very careful about spending. My family has cut back on other purchases and avoided additional trips to help make this World Cup journey possible.

I missed my first chance at tickets

Getting a World Cup ticket was harder than I expected.

I entered FIFA's ticket sale in February with a budget of $350 per ticket. My dream was to watch Portugal, England, or Argentina.

When I finally got into the system, I had only 15 minutes to buy. The Portugal tickets I wanted were priced between $450 and $650, which was beyond my budget. I spent too much time comparing options and eventually lost my chance.

I thought that was the end of my chance at the World Cup.

I was able to buy tickets in April. This time, I focused on finding a match I could afford instead of chasing the teams I wanted to see most. After waiting in the queue for several hours, I finally got in and bought two category-three tickets for Czech Republic versus South Africa in Atlanta for $140 each — one for me and one for my father-in-law.

High ticket prices make it harder for fans

I understand why demand for the World Cup is so high. Still, I think ticket prices are difficult for ordinary fans.

What frustrates me most is the resale market.

I paid $140 for my ticket. A few weeks later, I checked the resale platform and saw nearby seats listed for about $560.

As a football fan, that's disappointing.

People who genuinely want to attend have a short window to buy tickets, but resellers have much more time to profit from them. I believe some people purchase tickets mainly to resell them rather than attend matches themselves.

For fans like me, that makes an already expensive event even harder to reach.

• The acting head of the TSA said more than 480 officers working without pay have quit during the shutdown.
• She said they can't be replaced fast enough to adequately staff airports for the World Cup in June.
• It could be another saga of long security lines due to understaffed TSA during a peak travel period.

Even if the partial government shutdown ends soon, the fallout at the Transportation Security Administration could spill into the summer's marquee event.

In a House testimony on Wednesday, acting TSA administrator Ha Nguyen McNeill said that so many officers have quit since their pay stopped in mid-February that the agency can't get replacements fast enough to adequately staff airports ahead of the World Cup in June.

She said TSA officers spend four to six months in training before working checkpoints, but the games — which will take place across 16 cities in the US, Canada, and Mexico — start in just 80 days.

"This is a dire situation," she said, adding that more than 480 officers have quit so far. "We are facing a potential perfect storm of severe staffing shortages and an influx of millions of passengers at our airports."

TSA agents haven't been paid for nearly six weeks, yet are deemed "essential" and expected to work during the shutdown, with back pay promised afterward. Their annual pay starts at around $40,000 and averages $60,000 to $75,000 a year with experience.

Still, many live paycheck to paycheck and can't afford to work unpaid for months at a time — quitting and finding another job or doing gig work is often their best option.

Mass TSA agent quits and callouts amid the shutdown, compounded by peak spring break travel, have already created hourslong security lines and stranded travelers. It's a preview of the chaos that could repeat when an estimated 6 million fans descend on potentially understaffed airports for the World Cup.

"If we see any spikes [in attrition], we're going to have to pivot and assess how we are going to staff the FIFA locations adequately," McNeill said.

Passengers traveling to the scheduled World Cup games in San Francisco and Kansas City, however, are likely safe from staffing chaos.

Both city airports use private security officers employed by contract companies instead of TSA, meaning their agents are being paid despite the shutdown.

It's not just the TSA sounding the alarm

Former Republican Sen. from Oklahoma, Markwayne Mullin — who was confirmed as the new head of the Department of Homeland Security on Monday after Kristi Noem's ousting in early March — said in a Senate hearing last week that the US is "behind" on World Cup preparations and the shutdown is making it worse.

"It'll take four months once funding comes in to start replacing those that we've lost for training before we can get them out in the field; we don't have four months with FIFA," he said. "How do we expect these people to stay on the job and work? We're losing institutional knowledge, we're losing people we've already trained."

The mass quits are exacerbating a problem that was already flagged last year.

A February 2025 report from the US Travel Association — long before the shutdown's impact could be factored in — warned that the TSA may not be efficient enough to handle surging travel volumes during the World Cup.

On its busiest days, the agency screened about 3 million passengers. During the games, the organization said that level of traffic would be the norm.

Lawmakers are still negotiating a funding deal to reopen DHS and end the partial shutdown.