Publishing on the eve of the soccer World Cup in the United States, Mexico, and Canada, this concise, power-packed philippic provides a critical take on the dark underbelly of the beautiful game at its most storied moment.
At the heart of this analysis by acclaimed sportswriter and scholar Jules Boykoff, who himself played soccer professionally, is the concept of sportswashing, where political leaders use sports to stoke nationalism and legitimize themselves on the world stage, deflecting from chronic problems at home. Step forward the recipient of the newly cast FIFA Peace Prize, Donald J. Trump, a titan unrivaled in squeegeeing every drop of personal wealth and prestige from hosting the competition. In this, he is ably assisted by a governing body of global soccer dripping in patronage and corruption.
In these pages Boykoff demonstrates that it is possible to simultaneously treasure the skills and athleticism displayed on the pitch while lamenting their exploitation by malevolent powerbrokers for whom love of the game means nothing next to turning a buck or harvesting prestige. And, as Red Card so skillfully shows, this bait and switch is not confined to soccer. Precisely the same legerdemain will be used to distract and enrich when the Olympic Games come to Los Angeles two years from now.
Jules Boykoff succeeds in using this slim book to make the case that the sport of soccer has a contested soul, which FIFA, in greedy possession of it, bends and warps to extract and exploit. In fact, leveraging its contested soul is an integral part of FIFA's abuse strategy.
The repository of love that exists for the game, for the thrill of the World Cup tournament, and its inextricably internationalist atmosphere is a useful tool for the rehabilitation of the public standing of corrupt and repressive leaders, like President Donald Trump. Using this affection to cover for ICE raids and murder, exploding public debt, the ballooning of surveillance tech and police funding, and to excuse crimes against human rights by countries like Saudi Arabia is what Boykoff calls "sportswashing." Since this book was written to speak directly to World Cup 2026, much of the book focuses on sportswashing for this specific, bigger-than-ever contest.
That doesn't mean that the book doesn't briefly tour history in order to give the present context a deeper meaning. He discusses Mussolini's Italy hosting the 1934 World Cup, and how the games served as a staging ground to glowingly display fascist masculinity to the globe. Pinochet's games in 1973, in which the Soviet Union team refused to play in a stadium that had been used for mass killings in the coup against Allende make an appearance in the book's pages as well, to make crystal clear that sportswashing is not a novel, contemporary phenomenon, but a method of sanitization for which FIFA was complicit in using during many of the 20th century's worst political cruelties. And to be sure, the author also lets us know that the mask of sportswashing sometimes slips off, as our author provides us with a quote from a FIFA official which basically expressed that a dictator is a good partner in organizing and preparing to host the games. Authoritarianism gets the job done, apparently.
On the other end, with "Red Card," Boykoff also establishes soccer's counter-hegemony and revolutionary latency, a game Fanon encouraged patients to play, and a game which the Italian Marxist Antonio Gramsci called an "open air kingdom of human loyalty."
Of course, since the book is very present-minded, we are also treated extensively to the sycophancy and corruption of Gianni Infantino, his coziness with Trump, his craven excuses and side-stepping avoidances. On the other hand, we learn of reform potential which exists within FIFA carried by figures like Norway's pro-Palestine champion Lise Klaveness.
Boykoff also talks to anti-mega-event organizers who are gathering themselves in order to better understand how to combat the myriad structural harms posed by hosting one.
In all, the book is topic-specific and time-bound, so its relevance may expire soon, but many of the lessons and concepts discussed carry well beyond the World Cup 2026. The game is never just the game, and Jules Boykoff lands this point with cool and serious effectiveness in Red Card. I'm now looking for sportswashing and seeing it everywhere, so I'll enjoy the sports, sure, but I won't be fooled either. A good little read for a rant to your friends during halftime.
Boykoff’s background as an actual professional player gives the critique real teeth; he’s not an outsider sneering at fandom, he’s someone who clearly still loves the sport and is angry at what’s been done to it.
The “sportswashing” framing is the book’s sharpest tool — tying the 2026 World Cup directly to the same playbook we’ll see again with LA’s Olympics, and showing how consistent and cynical the pattern really is. It’s a quick, sharp read rather than an exhaustive history, which works in its favor: it makes the argument, backs it with evidence, and doesn’t overstay its welcome.
Nice brief overview of the corruption in FIFA and its relationship with authoritarianism. Looks at how authoritarians use sportswashing to clean up their images with an emphasis on football.