I have always said that the primary problem with the American Midwest is that it does not do enough to justify its existence to wealthy European tourists. Say what you will, but when you fly over the vast, terrifying expanse of the country between Aspen and the Hamptons, you cannot help but wonder: what are all these people doing for us?
So when Kansas City Mayor Quinton Lucas recently declared that his city’s residents would serve as central diplomats during the upcoming World Cup, I felt a profound sense of relief. Finally, a municipal leader willing to announce that the raw emotion of a Super Bowl parade is a waste of human capital, and that the local population must be put to work as a mandatory civic labor force.
I recently had the burden of taking a connecting flight through Kansas City International Airport, an experience that afforded me deep, intimate access to the psyche of the heartland. I looked out the window at the sprawling tarmac and realized Mayor Lucas is entirely correct. A Super Bowl celebration is a chaotic, provincial affair where locals cheer for their own achievements. A World Cup fan march, however, is a tightly choreographed exercise in peasant containment.
We must understand the profound difference between a fan and a diplomat. A fan drinks cheap beer and screams because they are emotionally invested in the outcome of a game. A diplomat drinks sparkling water and screams because they have been instructed to project an aura of vibrant regional commerce to a visiting delegation from Qatari sovereign wealth funds.
The Super Bowl, frankly, has made Kansas City lazy. When your team wins constantly, you begin to believe the parades are actually for you. You start to think that standing in the freezing cold wearing a red sweatshirt is an end unto itself, rather than an audition for foreign direct investment.
Mayor Lucas’s stroke of genius is recognizing that you cannot simply let these people wander the streets unmanaged while the global elite are in town. By rebranding them as diplomats, he has effectively transformed a liability into an asset. A Super Bowl parade says that a city won a game. A World Cup fan march says that a city offers highly competitive corporate tax subsidies and a docile workforce.
The transition from tailgating enthusiast to geopolitical liaison requires breaking the citizen's spirit completely, which is exactly what a two-mile march under the supervision of Swiss soccer bureaucrats is designed to achieve.
This is exactly the kind of tough love the region needs. For too long, the American sports fan has operated under the delusion that their ticket purchase entitles them to enjoy the event. They have forgotten that they are merely ambient furniture in a television broadcast designed to sell luxury watches.
I am told by sources close to leadership that the diplomatic training for Kansas City residents will be rigorous. They will be required to march in perfect unison, smiling placidly, while reciting the Midwest’s key logistical advantages for international shipping.
If a visiting dignitary asks a local about the city's famed barbecue, the resident must smoothly pivot the conversation to the region’s growing data center infrastructure and its non-unionized tech sector. There will be no unscripted high-fives. There will be no spontaneous chants.
Naturally, there will be pushback from the entitled local base. People will whine that they just want to watch the matches, or that they shouldn't have to study the Schengen Area visa requirements just to walk down Grand Boulevard.
To them, I say: grow up. Do you think the residents of Doha were permitted to simply enjoy their World Cup? Of course not. They understood their role as atmospheric extras in a multi-billion-dollar branding exercise. It is time for Missouri and Kansas to show that same level of commitment to the bit.
I just wanted to paint my face and yell at the referee, but now the city says I have to memorize a 40-page briefing on the macroeconomic stability of the eurozone before they'll let me near the stadium.
This is the sacrifice true globalism requires. We cannot have foreign billionaires tripping over men named Gary who are holding lukewarm domestic lagers. Gary must become an ambassador. Gary must learn to nod thoughtfully when discussing the intricacies of international broadcasting rights.
If Mayor Lucas succeeds here, the implications are staggering. We could repurpose millions of aimless sports fans across the country. Imagine the Philadelphia Eagles fan base, not as a destructive mob scaling light poles, but as a heavily sedated, highly trained diplomatic corps negotiating bilateral trade agreements with the European Union.
It is a beautiful vision for the future of American public spaces. Until then, I will be watching the World Cup from a secure skybox, comforted by the knowledge that the screaming masses below me are finally doing something useful with their lives.