Letter from the (Associate) Editor: My World Cup Runneth Over

The June 25, 2026 Oranje march // Photo by Kylie Volavongsa

You either hid in the ‘burbs, read your dinner bill’s autogratuity charge in disgust or empathy, or dove headfirst into the sweaty, alcohol-muddled thick of it. But, in one way or another, you were part of the World Cup in Kansas City.

For many (particularly me), that about-a-month was one sidequest-y, culture-y, and soccer-y hell of a bender—one that we joined as it happened (leaving the sports analysis to the experts) and one that we covered in the months leading up to it.

Far in advance, both the City and FIFA Fan Fest organizing group KC2026 offered little on the logistics of road closures and bar hour extensions but shared the most minor of announcements (recall: themed weeks that had little to do with the Fest in practice and a prospective dad bod contest that never came to pass). Most of the major announcements came well near the deadline (please also recall: the construction of an entire premium lounge, headlining musical acts, transportation passes, and outside the gates, the city council’s continued indecision on bar opening hour extensions—etc). And yet, there was a glossy sheen to how the tournament actually played out here.

Pseudo-Aussie pain at Varsity Club // Photo by Tony Xiao

KC2026 announced a high visitor count, local and international; the Streetcar had record numbers in ridership; and Mayor Quinton Lucas boasted on Instagram that KC had the biggest spending surge of all this year’s World Cup host cities. On a social level, too, there were beautiful connections of all kinds—like our city having the biggest Oranje march in support of the Dutch national team, and that precious viral bond between Lawrence, Kansas and the nation of Algeria. You could’ve been a footy truther, a poser, or even a KC Current casual. No matter which, there was no better time to find friendship in bandwagoning.

During this World Cup bender, I did my part. No need to thank me for my service.

On a ConnectKC shuttle back from the Ecuador vs. Curaçao game, I had an overpriced frozen margarita in my system and told my fellow bus riders that it was my dream to visit America after studying English my entire life from my (parents’) home country of Laos. They sang me “The Star-Spangled Banner,” and our bus driver played a recording over the speakers.

In interviewing various guests at Fan Fest, I met the ever-charming Carlos Charisma and learned of his mission to save the world by the power of Charisma.

Photo by Tarik Sykes

I made many friends at many bars, including someone I’ll call Mega Croatia Megan and a local DJ I’m quite partial to—but not after spending several minutes shit-talking one of his favorite players. In any case, an enemy of Ronaldo is my friend without introduction.

Oh, and thanks to professional esports team the KC Pioneers, I got to play Fortnite with the best of them—as a Canadian player’s leg bone was tragically fractured within remote earshot.

The rest of The Pitchers were hard at work elsewhere. Photographer Tarik Sykes has been capturing local matches and open practices; his photos of that gritty Ecuador-Curaçao match are hypnotically gnarly. Meanwhile, reporter Ava McCluer has shared inside talks with music acts who’ve come from near and far to perform in honor of the tournament.

At my end of the line, for Mexico’s last hurrah against England, I went 11 beers and one shot deep at the Power & Light watch party, where my delicate 5’2 frame was flung high into the air by some strangers in cowboy hats. My hair was drenched and sticky with a cocktail of beer and more cocktails. Let me just say: something about that sequence gives the aftermath’s discarded plastic cups and smashed beer cans a delightfully ephemeral glow beneath the purple lights. And the beautiful game becomes more beautiful than ever.

Power & Light aftermath // Photo by Kylie Volavongsa

But as pretty as the end-of-the-night trash looked, we’ve now arrived at the time to think about the real, big-picture aftermath and our fallen World Cup soldiers.

Welcome to the Hangover Issue. Let’s talk about going back to normal.

As the City touted a robust means of transit for World Cup fans and visitors, buses will have reduced frequency and a fourth of their routes cut as early as September. Local businesses outside the fold of watch-party hotspots and tourist institutions will have to make up for the numbers that didn’t come as promised. Ongoing, too, are the messes of the Royals stadium controversy; the 2026 primary and general elections; and the uptick of what’s currently confirmed to be 30 ICE arrests from which we could avert our eyes during the tournament.

Of course, a shitshow doesn’t have to be our normal. We’ve got people across the metro doing the work to make life as normal as possible for everyone—even before the soccer arrived. We’d love to tell you about them, too.

Our very own Kolby Brown reports on Kanbe’s Markets’ and Harvesters’ fights against food waste. Emma Goulding highlights Sheffield Place’s work in empowering houseless mothers and children. Alex Omorodion’s latest feature shows us that community—and how to find yours as a Grown Up—is simpler (and yummier) than you’d think.

Good luck. Happy reading. I’ll see you on the other side of my non-alcoholic recovery Guinness.

Fly high, Pitch readers // Screenshot by Kylie Volavongsa

Click here to see where you can grab our August 2026 issue.