Someone Had to Let Trump onto the Field

By LONNIE KING

I am not what anyone would describe as the most hardcore devoted soccer fan.

I understand the game and casually follow it, but I do not organize my weekends around Premier League matches or debate the tactical merits of various formations. And it isn’t appointment viewing for me, like the NFL, NCAA, MLB or NBA would be.

Still, over the years I have developed a genuine appreciation for the game. And, I absolutely loved watching the World Cup this summer.

I watched almost every game, many of them on Telemundo. My Spanish is nowhere near fluent, but the language of sports is remarkably universal. Excitement sounds like excitement. Disappointment needs no translation. A spectacular goal makes sense in any language.

Besides, watching soccer in Spanish seemed preferable to supporting anything broadcast under the Fox brand.

Some convictions require sacrifice.

The tournament reminded me why the World Cup commands such an enormous global audience. For a few weeks, countries with little else in common share the same competition. The athletes become the story. National pride is present, of course, but the game belongs to everyone.

Unfortunately, Donald Trump has never encountered a stage he did not believe belonged primarily to him.

The Political Sports Curse

Here in Texas, we have a running joke about Ted Cruz.

If ol’ Ted arrives at an important game wearing your team’s colors and publicly declaring his support, you might as well begin preparing for a loss.

Astros fans know the legend. So do Rockets fans. Texas Tech fans have their own stories. Cruz does not actually cause teams to lose, of course, but sports fans are naturally superstitious. When an unpopular politician keeps appearing near disappointing results, a curse is born.

Trump is developing a similar reputation.

New York Knicks fans have blamed him for their misfortune. He publicly celebrated his intervention on behalf of the United States men’s national team after Folarin Balogun received a red card, only to watch Belgium eliminate the Americans 4-1.

Trump may or may not be a sports jinx. But whenever he enters the arena, something more reliable happens.

The event becomes less about the athletes and more about Donald Trump.

When the President Calls the Referee

Balogun’s red card was controversial. Many knowledgeable soccer observers believed the call was too harsh.

Bad officiating happens in sports. So do appeals and reviews. There is nothing improper about fans, coaches or commentators arguing that an official got something wrong.

But presidents ordinarily do not have a private appeals process.

Trump personally called FIFA president Gianni Infantino and asked him to review the decision. FIFA subsequently suspended the automatic one-game punishment, allowing Balogun to play against Belgium.

Perhaps FIFA ultimately reached the correct conclusion about the play. That is not the larger issue.

The problem is that the president of the host country could telephone the leader of soccer’s international governing body and seek a favorable ruling for his national team. Other countries understandably wondered whether they would receive the same personal consideration.

Trump later took credit for becoming involved, because Trump takes credit for almost everything he believes reflects favorably upon him. He wanted everyone to know that he had called Infantino and that FIFA had responded.

Then the United States lost anyway.

There is that curse again.

A Trophy Ceremony in Search of Its Main Character

Trump also inserted himself into the World Cup trophy ceremony.

Presenting a championship trophy can be an appropriate ceremonial role for a national leader. Remaining in the middle of the winning team’s celebration is something else.

The players had spent their lives dreaming about that moment. They had endured the practices, injuries, pressure and competition. The trophy belonged to them.

Trump still seemed reluctant to leave the stage.

It was not the first time. He had behaved similarly at the Club World Cup, lingering among Chelsea’s players during their celebration.

That is Trump’s nature. He does not simply want to attend history. He wants history’s cameras pointed toward him. He cannot merely congratulate the champions. He must become part of the championship image.

But Trump did not place himself on those stages without assistance.

Someone invited him. Someone handed him the trophy. Someone decided that accommodating his desire for attention was preferable to protecting a moment that belonged to the athletes.

That someone was Gianni Infantino.

The Man Who Kept Opening the Door

I do not know enough about Infantino’s complete tenure to declare him corrupt.

Plenty of people who understand international soccer far better than I do have reached extremely harsh conclusions about him and about FIFA. The organization’s reputation for questionable governance certainly did not begin with Infantino or Trump.

I can only evaluate the pattern visible in front of me.

Infantino cultivated an unusually close relationship with Trump. FIFA created a peace prize and presented its inaugural award to him. Infantino entertained Trump’s personal intervention in the Balogun disciplinary case. He repeatedly gave Trump a prominent role in soccer’s biggest ceremonial moments.

Then Infantino pursued a proposal to sell a 20 percent interest in FIFA’s commercial operation to private investors.

One of the principal firms involved was Thrive Capital, led by Joshua Kushner, the brother of Trump’s son-in-law Jared Kushner.

Perhaps someone can produce an innocent explanation for every individual decision. But eventually the explanations begin carrying more weight than the structure can support.

FIFA’s member countries and regional governing bodies apparently believed the dots connected closely enough to demand action. They rejected the proposal and forced Infantino to abandon it. Some subsequently began questioning whether he should continue leading the organization.

They did not need to prove a criminal quid pro quo. They saw billions of dollars in World Cup commercial rights, an inadequately disclosed process and an investment firm led by a member of the American president’s extended family.

They decided the arrangement was unacceptable.

That is what institutional oversight is supposed to look like.

Trump’s Warning

Now Trump has entered the story again.

After the proposal collapsed and Infantino’s position became endangered, Trump posted a public warning that FIFA would be making a “terrible mistake” by replacing him. He claimed the organization would never again be as successful or profitable without Infantino.

Trump did not identify a specific consequence.

He did not say that his administration would take a particular action if FIFA’s members removed Infantino. In that sense, his warning may prove empty.

Time will tell.

But ambiguity does not make the message meaningless. Trump has spent years perfecting the language of implied consequences. He often does not need to explain what will happen to people who defy him. He simply tells them they will regret it and allows them to imagine the possibilities.

That matters when the speaker is the president of the United States and the United States is central to FIFA’s plans. Government decisions affect visas, security, international travel and the countless logistical arrangements required to stage global competitions.

Perhaps Trump was merely expressing the unsolicited opinion of a passionate soccer enthusiast.

And perhaps I watched Telemundo all summer to improve my Spanish.

Trump Cannot Do It Alone

Infantino reminds me of the Republican leaders who have repeatedly surrendered their responsibilities to Trump.

Members of Congress could have checked his abuses. Party leaders could have defended constitutional boundaries. Cabinet members could have protected the independence of the institutions entrusted to them.

Some tried. Many others learned that compliance brought access while resistance brought retaliation.

Trump is extremely skilled at identifying people who value proximity to power more than the independence of the institutions they lead.

Infantino appears to have made a similar calculation.

Trump always wants to be the story, but wanting is not enough. Someone must hand him the microphone. Someone must place him on the stage. Someone must allow him to stand beside the trophy.

Authoritarian personalities rarely overpower institutions entirely by themselves. They require institutional leaders willing to open the door, move the furniture and pretend nothing unusual is happening.

That does not make Trump less responsible for his behavior.

It makes his enablers more responsible for theirs.

When Institutions Say No

There is, however, an important difference between FIFA’s governing bodies and the Republican-controlled institutions that repeatedly accommodated Trump.

The soccer organizations said no.

They examined Infantino’s proposal, rejected it and forced him to withdraw it. They did not accept his authority as the end of the discussion. They exercised the power their positions gave them.

Now they are receiving the almost inevitable warning from Trump.

Maybe they will retreat. Maybe Infantino will survive because enough member countries decide that challenging him is more trouble than it is worth. Powerful people often remain powerful because everyone around them is waiting for someone else to act first.

But the initial resistance still matters.

Trump’s influence depends partly upon everyone believing that resistance is futile. Every institution that stands its ground demonstrates otherwise.

Bigger Than the Game

I loved the World Cup because the game felt bigger than politics, language and national boundaries.

That is precisely why the relationship between Trump and Infantino is so troubling.

Trump wants to be bigger than the game. Infantino repeatedly helped him pretend that he was. Their relationship appears to have mixed political power, personal flattery, private investment and international sports governance in ways that deserve serious scrutiny.

None of that proves a criminal conspiracy.

It does explain why FIFA’s member organizations became suspicious. It also explains why Trump’s public defense of Infantino feels like something more consequential than one friend supporting another.

Trump may always want to become the story.

This time, the rest of the soccer world may have decided that neither he nor Gianni Infantino gets to make the rules alone.

And if Trump’s sports curse is real, Infantino might want to begin considering his options.