Latest news with #emptyseats
Yahoo
9 hours ago
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Empty seats are everywhere at the Club World Cup. But does this miss the real point?
If there's a lesson to be learned from the Club World Cup so far, it's that images of nothingness can still generate hysteria. Empty seats – which are apparently a festering scourge upon the game of football, a tragedy representing the plastic bankruptcy of American soccer fandom and/or the Club World Cup, an issue demanding alarmist coverage delivered with brows fully furrowed – have been commonplace in the competition's opening dozen games. Headlines (including from this very publication) have followed. Social media is awash in panoramic photos from a nation of press boxes, informing you incredulously that this image, so obscene in its emptiness, was taken a mere 45 minutes before kickoff – or (gasp) even closer. Why do we, the fans, observers, journalists, and other people who simply watch these games, care? What is it about the sight of a whole lot of plastic folding chairs with nobody in them that inflames our passions? Since when did we all become Clint Eastwood at the 2012 Republican National Convention? Advertisement Related: Trent Alexander-Arnold takes first step of Real Madrid high-wire act | Barney Ronay Empty seats mean unrealized revenues from tickets, concessions, merchandise, parking and exploitative fees, but that stuff isn't affecting our bottom line. The marketing strategy that demanded premium prices for those seats was misguided at best and laughably hubristic at worst, but it was not ours. There were plenty of inflated promises about guaranteed sellouts, the 'greatest spectacle in club football history', involving the '32 best teams in the world' that are being made to look completely silly in hindsight – but we weren't the ones who promised them. At most, the extent of our involvement with an empty seat at the Club World Cup is sitting next to one. Still, the tenor of the zeitgeist contains a strange mix of worry, sadness, and above all, cynicism. The empty seats are taken as a physical sign that while Fifa may care a little about games taking place in front of passionate fans, it cares far more about the money it gets from selling the TV rights, advertising space, and other considerations – often to the sovereign wealth fund of the country hosting a future World Cup, or the previous one. In theory, the empty seats prove that fans and atmosphere – the things that make soccer what it is – are of secondary importance. I would suggest that these critiques, while valid and true, miss the point. We are just talking about seats here. Not all of them are empty, and many of them are in very, very large stadiums. So far, Club World Cup venues have been about 52% full on average, using attendance figures as announced by Fifa. (In reality, those figures are likely far more representative of the number of tickets sold or distributed rather than butts in seats, but they at least give us an idea.) Going by the median percentage, which downplays the outliers, stadiums have been at 43% capacity. Advertisement Those are ugly numbers. If a professional club team (or several) consistently played in front of stadiums that were half-full or less, one might question whether they're playing in the right stadiums. If this dynamic sounds vaguely familiar to you, you may be a fan of MLS. The US first division began its life by living a week-in, week-out version of this very problem – a new competition that nobody knew quite what to make of, with most teams playing in massive NFL or college football stadiums in which even decent crowds were made to look minuscule and sparse. The league slowly but surely learned its lesson – nearly every one of its 30 teams plays in their own intimate grounds, the largest of which top out at about 30,000. It's not a league of constant sellouts, but the environments have improved markedly. It's a lesson Fifa should have learned, given they're hosting this tournament in MLS's backyard. There were plenty of raucous Brazilian fans on hand at the cavernous MetLife Stadium on Tuesday for Fluminense's draw with Dortmund, but the 84,000 capacity venue was still half-full. It leaves you to wonder how much more intense the occasion might have been just down the road at the 25,000-capacity Sports Illustrated Stadium, home of the New York Red Bulls (which is also more easily-accessible by public transit). Myriad other factors have affected turnout. There are well-founded fears of Ice raids, which may well have kept immigrant fans – undocumented or not – away from stadiums. For traveling fans, visa processing times have been a nightmare. In the case of teams like Ulsan Hyundai, Urawa Red Diamonds and Mamelodi Sundowns, the competition is far enough away to make travel all but impossible. For domestic fans, many games take place in the middle of workdays. And that's without even getting into ticket prices, which started in the hundreds of dollars and have only dropped as the dynamic pricing model has kicked in with kickoffs looming. Related: David Squires on … gimmicks and surprise guests as the Club World Cup kicks off Seen one way, the 22,137 who attended Chelsea v LAFC in Atlanta left 70% of the stadium empty. Seen another way, thousands of Atlantans (as well as Chelsea and LAFC fans) showed up despite all the mitigating factors listed above, in the middle of a Monday work day, for a game in a competition that nobody seems to know what to make of, involving an MLS team that plays 3,000 miles away and who only officially qualified weeks ago. I submit to you that, given all that, the attendance was a minor triumph. Chelsea will play in front of fewer fans when they visit Bournemouth's Dean Court this upcoming Premier League season. Advertisement Similarly, perhaps it should be celebrated that just under 35,000 came to see Flamengo play Esperance de Tunis later that night in Philadelphia, or that 40,311 dealt with the well-known traffic and crowd issues at the Rose Bowl to watch Monterrey v Inter. These are not the sellouts Fifa promised, but those promises, like many Fifa boasts, were stupid. The enthusiasm evident in the crowds themselves tell the rest of the story. When crowd sizes rankle, perhaps the problem is one of perception; of Fifa's uncanny ability to get in its own way. Football's world governing body has allowed the luxurious excesses of the World Cup – as in the actual one, the one that will take place next year – to cloud its vision of what this tournament, what the club game, is and can be. The World Cup has prestige. So much prestige, in fact, that fans can be assured that no matter which teams they're going to see, they will be watching a seminal moment in the modern history of those countries' sporting stories; and perhaps a milestone in the life of a country itself. Being a club fan is far more intimate, even for the biggest clubs in the world. It's a regular, everyday devotion that simply doesn't fit with Fifa's maximalist tendencies. Maybe that's why empty seats at these games have become such a focal point – they're an uncomfortable reminder that the world of every club is only so big.
The Guardian
9 hours ago
- Sport
- The Guardian
Empty seats are everywhere at the Club World Cup. But does this miss the real point?
If there's a lesson to be learned from the Club World Cup so far, it's that images of nothingness can still generate hysteria. Empty seats – which are apparently a festering scourge upon the game of football, a tragedy representing the plastic bankruptcy of American soccer fandom and/or the Club World Cup, an issue demanding alarmist coverage delivered with brows fully furrowed – have been commonplace in the competition's opening dozen games. Headlines (including from this very publication) have followed. Social media is awash in panoramic photos from a nation of press boxes, informing you incredulously that this image, so obscene in its emptiness, was taken a mere 45 minutes before kickoff – or (gasp) even closer. Why do we, the fans, observers, journalists, and other people who simply watch these games, care? What is it about the sight of a whole lot of plastic folding chairs with nobody in them that inflames our passions? Since when did we all become Clint Eastwood at the 2012 Republican National Convention? Empty seats mean unrealized revenues from tickets, concessions, merchandise, parking and exploitative fees, but that stuff isn't affecting our bottom line. The marketing strategy that demanded premium prices for those seats was misguided at best and laughably hubristic at worst, but it was not ours. There were plenty of inflated promises about guaranteed sellouts, the 'greatest spectacle in club football history', involving the '32 best teams in the world' that are being made to look completely silly in hindsight – but we weren't the ones who promised them. At most, the extent of our involvement with an empty seat at the Club World Cup is sitting next to one. Still, the tenor of the zeitgeist contains a strange mix of worry, sadness, and above all, cynicism. The empty seats are taken as a physical sign that while Fifa may care a little about games taking place in front of passionate fans, it cares far more about the money it gets from selling the TV rights, advertising space, and other considerations – often to the sovereign wealth fund of the country hosting a future World Cup, or the previous one. In theory, the empty seats prove that fans and atmosphere – the things that make soccer what it is – are of secondary importance. I would suggest that these critiques, while valid and true, miss the point. We are just talking about seats here. Not all of them are empty, and many of them are in very, very large stadiums. So far, Club World Cup venues have been about 52% full on average, using attendance figures as announced by Fifa. (In reality, those figures are likely far more representative of the number of tickets sold or distributed rather than butts in seats, but they at least give us an idea.) Going by the median percentage, which downplays the outliers, stadiums have been at 43% capacity. Those are ugly numbers. If a professional club team (or several) consistently played in front of stadiums that were half-full or less, one might question whether they're playing in the right stadiums. If this dynamic sounds vaguely familiar to you, you may be a fan of MLS. The US first division began its life by living a week-in, week-out version of this very problem – a new competition that nobody knew quite what to make of, with most teams playing in massive NFL or college football stadiums in which even decent crowds were made to look minuscule and sparse. The league slowly but surely learned its lesson – nearly every one of its 30 teams plays in their own intimate grounds, the largest of which top out at about 30,000. It's not a league of constant sellouts, but the environments have improved markedly. It's a lesson Fifa should have learned, given they're hosting this tournament in MLS's backyard. There were plenty of raucous Brazilian fans on hand at the cavernous MetLife Stadium on Tuesday for Fluminense's draw with Dortmund, but the 84,000 capacity venue was still half-full. It leaves you to wonder how much more intense the occasion might have been just down the road at the 25,000-capacity Sports Illustrated Stadium, home of the New York Red Bulls (which is also more easily-accessible by public transit). Myriad other factors have affected turnout. There are well-founded fears of Ice raids, which may well have kept immigrant fans – undocumented or not – away from stadiums. For traveling fans, visa processing times have been a nightmare. In the case of teams like Ulsan Hyundai, Urawa Red Diamonds and Mamelodi Sundowns, the competition is far enough away to make travel all but impossible. For domestic fans, many games take place in the middle of workdays. And that's without even getting into ticket prices, which started in the hundreds of dollars and have only dropped as the dynamic pricing model has kicked in with kickoffs looming. Sign up to Soccer with Jonathan Wilson Jonathan Wilson brings expert analysis on the biggest stories from European soccer after newsletter promotion Seen one way, the 22,137 who attended Chelsea v LAFC in Atlanta left 70% of the stadium empty. Seen another way, thousands of Atlantans (as well as Chelsea and LAFC fans) showed up despite all the mitigating factors listed above, in the middle of a Monday work day, for a game in a competition that nobody seems to know what to make of, involving an MLS team that plays 3,000 miles away and who only officially qualified weeks ago. I submit to you that, given all that, the attendance was a minor triumph. Chelsea will play in front of fewer fans when they visit Bournemouth's Dean Court this upcoming Premier League season. Similarly, perhaps it should be celebrated that just under 35,000 came to see Flamengo play Esperance de Tunis later that night in Philadelphia, or that 40,311 dealt with the well-known traffic and crowd issues at the Rose Bowl to watch Monterrey v Inter. These are not the sellouts Fifa promised, but those promises, like many Fifa boasts, were stupid. The enthusiasm evident in the crowds themselves tell the rest of the story. When crowd sizes rankle, perhaps the problem is one of perception; of Fifa's uncanny ability to get in its own way. Football's world governing body has allowed the luxurious excesses of the World Cup – as in the actual one, the one that will take place next year – to cloud its vision of what this tournament, what the club game, is and can be. The World Cup has prestige. So much prestige, in fact, that fans can be assured that no matter which teams they're going to see, they will be watching a seminal moment in the modern history of those countries' sporting stories; and perhaps a milestone in the life of a country itself. Being a club fan is far more intimate, even for the biggest clubs in the world. It's a regular, everyday devotion that simply doesn't fit with Fifa's maximalist tendencies. Maybe that's why empty seats at these games have become such a focal point – they're an uncomfortable reminder that the world of every club is only so big.
Yahoo
11 hours ago
- Sport
- Yahoo
Why are Club World Cup stadiums half-empty? FIFA's failures go beyond ticket prices
Many seats are empty as teams warm up before the Club World Cup group F soccer match between Ulsan HD and Mamelodi Sundowns in Orlando, Tuesday, June 17, 2025. (AP Photo/John Raoux) 'The environment,' Chelsea coach Enzo Maresca said, 'was a bit strange.' When his team debuted Monday at the 2025 Club World Cup, a tournament FIFA has billed as a soccer 'pinnacle,' Mercedes-Benz Stadium, Maresca noted, 'was almost empty.' Even when late arrivers trickled in, there were over 50,000 unfilled seats in Atlanta. Elsewhere, through four days, a majority of the tournament's 12 games haven't reached half capacity; and none have been sellouts. The swaths of empty seats have been a stain on the new-look Club World Cup, and have sparked debate around a simple question: Why? Advertisement The simplest answer is that FIFA, with 'alarming' ticket prices and flawed messaging, priced out or put off significant chunks of would-be fans. Diehard supporters of clubs from South America and Africa have taken to the tournament. But not all of them could afford (or were allowed) to travel to the U.S. for games. Local appetite, meanwhile, was misread by FIFA and beset by the perception that this Club World Cup is a 'cash grab.' And so, there were only 22,137 people at Mercedes-Benz Stadium to see Chelsea vs. LAFC, the first-ever 'competitive' match between an MLS club and a European power. There were 30,151 at Lumen Field for Seattle Sounders vs. Botafogo — fewer than the Sounders average for MLS matches. Then 11,974 at the same stadium for River Plate vs. Urawa Reds two days later, and 3,412 in Orlando for Mamelodi Sundowns vs. Ulsan HD. 'If in America you fill soccer stadiums for friendly games, then when you come with a World Cup, with the best players to win a competition, for sure [stadiums will be full],' FIFA president Gianni Infantino said in April. Advertisement But he was wrong. The following is an attempt to explain why. Club World Cup attendance so far The Club World Cup has averaged 36,126 fans at its first 12 games, and in a vacuum, that's not a terrible number. It's not the 53,191 average attendance at the 2022 World Cup, nor the 52,314 at Euro 2024, nor the 49,406 at last summer's Copa América. But it's a decent draw that's featured fun atmospheres in New Jersey and Miami. The problem is that 10 of 12 games have been played at NFL stadiums or the Rose Bowl. Overall, per FIFA's announced attendances and listed stadium capacities, only 54% of seats have been full. Advertisement The explanation for the empty 46% is twofold: 1. FIFA executives, reportedly bucking advice from their U.S.-based staff, chose to host most of the tournament at massive American football stadiums rather than smaller MLS grounds. 2. Their initial ticket prices for the Club World Cup, a start-up tournament, were among the most expensive for any major soccer tournament, ever. Ticket prices When FIFA first released tickets in December, the cheapest for the opener were $223 (including Ticketmaster fees, but before taxes). Many upper-deck seats at a majority of group-stage games cost upwards of $100. The prices were "alarming," Bailey Brown, president of the Independent Supporters Council, a group representing soccer fans across the U.S. and Canada, told Yahoo Sports in an email at the time. They fell in line with a uniquely American trend of soccer organizations trying to milk as much money out of people as possible. Brown was 'genuinely concerned' that 'many of the most passionate fans will be priced out of enjoying the sport' as a result. Advertisement Months later, with sales lagging, amid increasingly desperate attempts to drum up interest for the Club World Cup, FIFA slashed most prices. Of the 39 group games for which sufficient and analogous data was available on Ticketmaster, 33 had seen prices drop by at least 25% since December; only two had seen prices increase by at least 20%. In late May, tickets to 26 of the 48 group games were available for less than $50. But still, many weren't selling. Why? Because FIFA, it seems, did not promote the tournament properly. General view inside the stadium with empty seats prior to the FIFA Club World Cup 2025 group F match between Fluminense FC and Borussia Dortmund at MetLife Stadium on June 17, 2025 in East Rutherford, New Jersey. (Photo by) (David Ramos via Getty Images) FIFA's messaging The Club World Cup has been plagued all along by resistance from the European soccer establishment. When Infantino and FIFA finally powered through the resistance, scored a Saudi-backed broadcast deal, and got the competition up and running, they had to sell it to a skeptical public. Advertisement Their apparent strategy revolved around a fancy trophy and Infantino, who would simply state, again and again, that the Club World Cup would be the biggest and best tournament imaginable. It would feature 'the 32 best clubs and best players from all over the world,' Infantino said at December's draw. 'Two, three, four million fans will be coming to the U.S.; four, five billion will be watching from home.' Never mind that plugged-in fans knew none of this was necessarily true. Casuals, on the other hand, had heard these types of bombastic claims before, from promoters of preseason events like the International Champions Cup. What the ICC successfully sold for several years was a chance for U.S. fans to see soccer's biggest clubs in the flesh. What FIFA had to explain to those same fans was why the Club World Cup was not just another summer exhibition. Advertisement And FIFA never really did that. It sent Infantino, the self-appointed face of the tournament, on a media tour in April, and he kept making the overbaked claims. A relentless digital advertising campaign screamed 'THE BEST v THE BEST.' A social media push featured influencers outlining why the Club World Cup would be 'the biggest sports tournament of the summer.' FIFA rarely engaged with traditional soccer media; never directly confronted criticism; and never went beyond the surface level to detail its vision or rationale for the tournament. So, its messaging felt empty, and its credibility — already low among Western fans — wore thin. The irony is that many critical thinkers have come around on the concept of the Club World Cup. Many believe that, over time, as fans see that players care, fans themselves will care, and the tournament's popularity will grow. This is the arc of any unproven competition. It's currently happening with the UEFA Nations League. It can happen with this one. The problem is that FIFA priced it, and talked about it, like a proven tournament. Advertisement And now, rather than full stadiums converting skeptics, empty seats are reinforcing the perception that these matches are empty of meaning — even as players say the opposite. Foreign fans unwelcome or unable They are most meaningful, it seems, in South America and Africa. In Argentina and Tunisia, and in other countries home to participating teams, the Club World Cup is front-page news. But, for many people in those countries and elsewhere: It's impossible to gauge the impact of those three factors. But consider the story of Gamal Hosni, a 28-year-old who lives in Cairo and adores Al Ahly, Inter Miami's opponent in Saturday's opener. 'I really wanted to go, man,' Hosni told Yahoo Sports in a video interview. So, he says, he applied for a visitor visa, and paid the $185 fee. But his application was denied; he was forced to cancel his plans, and instead watch the game from home at 3 a.m. Has the novelty worn off? With foreign fans restricted, attendance has largely depended on the U.S. market. Thus far, expats from Egypt, Brazil, Argentina, Tunisia and elsewhere have turned up. But the stark reality is that most American sports fans have never heard of Espérance Tunis or Ulsan HD or Botafogo. Advertisement Perhaps they've heard of Chelsea. But Chelsea has now come to the U.S. four straight summers. So has Real Madrid. Manchester City has been here three of the last four. Bayern Munich, Atlético Madrid, Borussia Dortmund and Juventus have also visited. Their presence is no longer novel; and when they come on preseason tours, their opponents are often better — or at least more famous. Still, it is stunning that Chelsea's 12 preseason friendlies (excluding a double-header) averaged over 50,000 fans, and never drew fewer than 32,724, whereas its Club World Cup opener drew 22,137. Kickoff times made for TV A significant factor in Atlanta, and on Tuesday in New Jersey and Seattle, were the kickoff times: 3 p.m. or noon on a weekday. Advertisement The reason for those: FIFA prefers to schedule each game in a unique broadcast window to maximize total viewership. Doing so comes at the expense of the match-going fan, which is a defensible tradeoff; in some sense, it makes the games more accessible. The baffling choice was to still ask fans to pay premium prices for tickets — plus around $30 for parking at some stadiums, $30 for a drink and food, and perhaps a vacation day. That, in a nutshell, is why many seats have been empty. FIFA did not respond to a pre-tournament interview request nor to questions about its ticketing strategy. It said in a news release Tuesday that 'close to 1.5 million tickets' have so far been sold. Across 63 games, that would be less than 40% of roughly 4 million cumulative capacity.
