Back when they first announced the match schedule for the World Cup, and we found out that Seattle would host six games, it was very clear to me that - whatever length of trip we scheduled - there were three games we were never going to afford: the Round of 16. The Round of 32. And the USA-Australia game.

What I figured is that I could, in some ways, replace the experience of being at USA-Australia by going to the fan festival instead. It’s pretty much par for the course now that any broadcast of a big sporting event will, at some point, cut to a shot of a crowd gathered somewhere other than the stadium. A crowded bar, or the streets outside, or the home stadium of a team that’s on the road - somewhere for people to gather and have the experience of being, while not at the game, still among fellow fans, experiencing the celebrations and community of sports fandom without necessarily having to be in the stands.

Seattle has, somehow, at least five different fan festivals going on for the World Cup, counting the seemingly-unofficial one in Pioneer Square downtown. There’s also an event space across from the stadium, a three-story screen set up in a seemingly-deserted shopping mall downtown, and a Poseidon Adventure-esque “first-of-its-kind” floating celebration that was apparently designed to test the disaster-response capabilities of the Seattle Fire Department and the Coast Guard.

There’s also a fan festival at Seattle Center, underneath the Space Needle, as there almost would have to be; there’s no real reason for Seattle Center to still exist, except that it’s the city’s best public gathering space. So they set up a huge outdoor screen in the amphitheater next to the Needle, and another inside the cavernous Armory, and we figured that would be the perfect spot for three adults and four kids to watch the game.

With a noon game, and two of the adults needing to work in the morning, I had talked myself into the fan festival being only somewhat popular for the USA-Australia game. After all, much of the crowd might be at the game itself. And it was a public holiday, meaning other potential visitors might have left town for the weekend. And with two screens set up, that’d split the potential crowd. And, and, and… I’d managed to convince myself that it’d be fine, that we didn’t need to show up at 9am to claim a good spot to see the game.

As soon as we got out of the car, and started walking toward Seattle Center, I knew I was wrong.

There were too many people in USA jerseys, too many people in general, too much of a sense of people hurrying to claim the last spots in a soccer lifeboat. We came over a rise and saw huge lines at food trucks, set up outside the watch zone. People were already climbing trees to see the screen. Four young men were clambering onto the top of an information kiosk. It was, in a word, total chaos. The spots in the amphitheater were long gone, standing room only at the back. We eventually figured out that, by standing underneath some trees with our backs up against the wall of the Children’s Theater, 250 feet away, it was possible to see about 85% of the big screen, assuming nobody in the front stood up.

The experience was the 2026 equivalent of watching the World Series via telegraph. Anytime the ball got close to the Australia net, the crowd stood up and the noise drowned out the announcers; when the first goal went in, I only celebrated when I heard the roar from the crowd in front of me. The second goal was like a bad game of telephone. Blessed are the cheesemakers, and Alex Freeman!

Apart from the frustration, for someone like me who remembers when soccer fandom was much more of a niche pursuit, it was heartwarming to see the explosion of interest on the streets of Seattle (or for that matter, on the streets of Minneapolis). In 1994, lots of people thought no one would even go to the stadium to watch these games; in the 2000s, watching them was restricted mostly to the few “soccer” bars in the community. Now, people are climbing trees to see soccer in America.

Anyway, we went home for the second half. 1/10 on the community aspect, but 10/10 in terms of being able to actually see what was going on. Effectively, I have now prevented myself from seeing the entirety of either USA game so far, once because of a flight and once because of misplaced optimism.

The silver lining is that it’s been the most successful, and least dramatic, group stage ever for the USA. Türkiye’s total face-plant at this tournament means that Thursday’s final group-stage game has absolutely nothing riding on it, unlike what I’m used to at the men’s World Cup, where the final USA group-stage game usually feels like a referendum on the future of American soccer. Whatever happens, the USA will open the Round of 32 on July 1, in the Bay Area.

If they win that one, they’ll be back in Seattle for the Round of 16. I’ll be gone by then - it’s just as well, because ticket prices are going to be NBA Finals-at-MSG level - but allow me to offer a piece of advice: if you think you might want to watch that game in the shadow of the Space Needle, maybe go claim your spot right now.