2026 World Cup Wrap-Up (Nations 1-34)

🇨🇦 🇲🇽 🇺🇸 NORTH AMERICA
📍 Southern California
📸 All photos by Jared Cohee
for Eat the World Los Angeles

EDITOR’S NOTE: This article will continue to expand as I write more, it now includes nations 1-34 of my 2026 World Cup in Los Angeles. Click on the flag below to skip directly to the nation of your choice:

🇿🇦 🇰🇷 🇨🇦 🇨🇭 🇧🇷 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 🇯🇵 🇪🇨 🇪🇬 🇸🇦 🇸🇳 🇩🇿 🇵🇦 🇧🇦 🇭🇹 🇸🇪 🇨🇻 🇳🇿 🇳🇴 🇯🇴 🇺🇿 🇬🇭 🇶🇦 🇨🇿 🇨🇼 🇳🇱 🇹🇳 🇹🇷 🇮🇶 🇺🇾 🇮🇷 🇩🇪 🇲🇦 🇨🇮

Let me (and everyone) know in the comments where you found amazing watch parties.

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It all started back on the second Thursday in June, as I boarded Metro E Line to head downtown. I made the decision to cheer with South Africa rather than México for the first match, going against 99.9% of the city as a notion to practicality. At that point, no one expected Bafana Bafana (the South African team’s nickname) to advance from the group stage, and it was unclear if the group putting on this event would stage more for their later matches.

As throngs of fans in green México kits got off the train for the official fan fest at Memorial Coliseum, it was obvious this trip of mine was completely against the grain. But with DJs, live halftime entertainment, South African food, and a gathering of the diaspora in one place, I was really happy to arrive at the Little Tokyo station. As the summer heat seemed to be settling in for the tournament, the couple block walk in the sunshine to Hello Stranger already formed a few beads of sweat on my forehead.

This second floor bar in Little Tokyo would become the team’s official Los Angeles home for all three group stage matches after a successful first event. On this day, the joy and revelry here in the bar was unmatched on the pitch, as Bafana Bafana fell in a fairly uneventful 2:0 defeat to the hosts in México City. But most of the attendees had probably already taken the day off, so the party continued for a while after the final whistle, until the bunny chow completely ran out.

While you can get some good watch party results by simply Googling (like most local media do), it is the four years in between World Cups that really pay off for amazing events like this. Having met some folks during this past winter’s Africa Cup of Nations and getting on their mailing list, the invitation was like a ray of (Swazi) sunshine. The area’s South African-owned establishments (Springbok Bar & Grill in Van Nuys and The Eldo in Long Beach) both never really get much of a crowd for Bafana Bafana besides a sprinkling of Afrikaners. The fun was all about the people here, as the team played without any heart and two of their players were even sent off with red cards. At this point, no one would have predicted they could turn their fortunes around later in the tournament.

There was a five hour gap between matches, so I returned home on another train full of green kits, changed from a yellow to a red shirt, and eventually boarded the 207 bus to get north to Koreatown. In Guadalajara, South Korea would be taking on Czechia in the only other match of this first World Cup day, and Koreatown watch parties with a full range of food and entertainment had been organized months beforehand.

I arrived about an hour before kickoff to roam around Liberty Park and the food stands and atmosphere surrounding it. Good spots for viewing the match had been grabbed many hours before, but I was more interested in soaking in the big event. Many generations of Los Angeles Koreans came here to cheer on the Taegeuk Warriors, often times just referred to as The Reds. In the second half, I snuck to the top floor of a mostly empty parking garage on the next block and got some views from above.

After stuffing in some morning work (By the way, hire me to mount your TVs and other things!), I dropped by Attitude Café in Fairfax to catch the first Canada match. Having stopped by here a couple times to watch some NHL playoffs (and eat poutine) when Montréal was making a deep run, I was excited to see them also promoting watch parties in conjunction with Canadians Abroad LA. The noon kickoff on a weekday made the crowd a bit smaller than expected, but the energy was still good since Canada was one of the three co-hosts and this match was in Toronto.

The café has the Canadian feed for their broadcasts, and it was already nice to get a break from Alexi Lalas’s hot air on Fox. The poutine once again hit the spot, and another job awaited me later in the afternoon. Having not found a location yet for Paraguay, I retreated home to watch their match against the United States, the final of the three host nations and a team I have supported since I was a kid. I am old enough to still carry memories from the 1994 World Cup, a tournament in which I got to see three matches in the Bay Area, including the round of 16 match between the United States and Brazil. By 2026, the team is just about the only thing I like about my country.

The third day of the World Cup was the first time there were four matches, a craziness that would continue for the next 15 days straight (including six matches per day on the final four day stretch of this). Coinciding with the weekend, this first Saturday promised to be a good party and fans of every nation involved were bound to be out in numbers. My afternoon started in Culver City, where Swiss Mixer Los Angeles was organizing watch parties for all of Switzerland’s matches at Jameson’s Pub. Their first was also their worst, giving up a lead they carried for most of the match to lowly Qatar.

I cut out a bit early knowing my next event would be at capacity well before kickoff. I normally would hold off Brazil until the knockout stage or at least on a weekday to avoid these scenes, but a party that included pre-match samba was too much to resist. Brazilian fans never disappoint, and American Junkie in Hermosa Beach temporarily transformed this beach city into Copacabana thanks to watch parties organized by Soul Brasil Magazine.

After doing a bit of dancing, I found a corner to squeeze into and enjoy the match. Despite some samba interludes during advertising refreshment breaks and halftime, Brazilian fans and players seemed to take Morocco a bit too lightly. The mood was fairly glum for much of the 90 minutes, but eventually Vini Jr. came to the rescue and leveled the score, sending every room of the cavernous bar into rapture.

Despite having a real soft spot in my heart for Haiti and their first World Cup in 52 years, on match day one it was essential to follow the Scotland supporters because of an amazing event hosted by St. Andrews Society of Los Angeles. As I arrived about 20 minutes before kickoff at the Lumiere Music Hall in Beverly Hills, the sounds of bagpipes could be heard blocks down an otherwise empty Wilshire Blvd.

Inside the group had taken over one of the theaters and set up tables with food and refreshments, whisky and gin tastings, and two Scottish beers. All of these things were included in the $24 cost of a ticket to the event, a spectacular deal these days! By the time the national anthems played, people had a full complement of snacks and stood up to sing when it was Scotland’s turn.

After the insanity of the Brazil watch party, the calmness of this one was just the thing I needed, and the Belhaven and Tennants were both perfect for enjoying the match. During the refreshment breaks, at halftime, and after the goal was scored, there were of course more bagpipes. As a bonus it was a relief to sit in a theater and have nice chats with other attendees, as silence was definitely not recommended. After two disappointing draws earlier in the day, it was nice to observe a win and a joyous crowd at the final whistle.

After saying goodbye to new friends, I drove by a place that I thought might have some Aussie support for the final match of the day. Unfortunately no one except NBA Finals fans were there, so I drove home to watch the rest of the match. Exhausted from the first full day of action, I was left wondering if I could manage the whole expanded tournament.

Knowing I needed to limit my days of three (or four) matches, I skipped my original plan to attend the Fan Fest at Memorial Coliseum in search for Curaçao fans and caught their match against Germany at home before boarding Metro E Line for a second time and heading downtown. Along with Metro, neighborhood organizations had organized a wonderful little watch party outside the Little Tokyo/Arts District Station, and even arriving an hour before kickoff found all of its shady seats occupied.

Little Tokyo was definitely the place to be, and since I was not interested in a seat I strolled around the neighborhood to catch the vibes. I wanted to check out another watch party at the Kyoto Garden on the roof of the DoubleTree Hotel, but it was already full and not letting unticketed fans in! Far Bar is a natural spot in the area for watching sports and people were already spilling out to the sidewalks trying to catch a view of the televisions inside. Little Tokyo was excited, and for good reason. Their beloved Samurai Blue are a very tidy side and were ready to start upsetting the big boys.

Back at the Metro Station, I found a tiny spot of shade beside the screen and watched the crowd as much as the match, which turned out to be the best of the early days of the tournament. The rest of the plaza had many bathrooms, a hydration station with plenty of water, and some booths with giveaways and things for sale. Metro employees showed up with more tents as capacity expanded and more shade was desired. The teams traded goals and the plaza went through all the emotions and ups and downs.

Conveniently this Sunday had both of my planned parties just down the street from each other. While it was fun enjoying Ecuador four years ago at the private residence of La Casita de Cancun Olé, the biggest party for La Tricolor this time around was nearby at Boomtown Brewery, a ten minute walk from the Netherlands-Japan match. Two area Ecuadorian restaurants, including Gardena’s DulcisFama, set up just outside the brewery so everyone dressed in yellow was completely stuffed full of delicious foods before kickoff.

All areas inside and out of Boomtown Brewery were completely taken over by this sea of yellow, who all began chanting well before kickoff and finding their preferred seats or standing areas. One of the brewery’s cavernous rooms had music and dancing, while the other was filled with fans watching the end of the Netherlands-Japan. All areas united as one by the time the national anthem of Ecuador was played before the match, and the high temperatures inside were less of an issue once there was football to enjoy.

I did have the chance to meet two fans from Côte d’Ivoire, who were kind of a fun oddity at the beginning of the match, but probably started irritating people by the end when they won. I ended up later finding one of them online after some posts from the match made the rounds, and would stalk him for the rest of the tournament for the watch party of his country. Obviously they had not found one for match day one since he ended up here amongst the enemy. He was also the fan featured later on James Corden’s After Hours talk show, so he definitely won the World Cup.

After the two very rambunctious parties today, I was definitely in the mood to retreat home as planned. As always, I never like to drive downtown so it was convenient to walk back to the Little Tokyo station, use the public restroom there, and ride back home at possibly my stickiest state ever. The last match of the day was Sweden-Tunisia, which I had not found a suitable gathering for yet. Sweden promised a better time on match day two, and the Tunisians were guarding their secrets early in the rounds.

At this point, match day one was only half over, and the games of groups G through L were about to come fast and furious. There would be no rest for many days.

It had seemed like I had already been watching World Cup matches for weeks, but when Monday rolled around it was only the halfway point of match day one and I had a lot of work left. Old age is really something, as I could vividly remember running around for all three matches many days straight back when I started doing this in 2010 and again in 2014 when I saw a record 31 nations. This expanded format of 48 nations was already starting to show. My only rest was watching half of Spain-Cabo Verde at home, not knowing at the time that it was the beginning of the world’s new love affair with the tiny African island nation. I had already bought a ticket for a party for their second match against Uruguay, and Spain was one of those nations that should not require seeing in the group stage because they were bound to go far into the knockout phase.

My watch party day began with the drive down to Anaheim’s Little Arabia. I did not watch the second half of the Cabo Verde match so that I could show up to Cairo Restaurant and claim a seat, as well as the attention of the kitchen before they got too busy. Little did I know this would be a day of four draws, kicked off by those beloved Blue Sharks and the only match Spain did not win for the rest of the tournament.

I noticed on social media that Egypt’s later matches on the weekend would be entirely full, and even booked ahead of time for the knockout games, so I am happy I made it down for this first Monday match. All the tables were eventually full of Egyptians, and chairs had to be pulled out of storage, but the outdoor patio still had plenty of space for everyone to enjoy Egypt’s first point. They took the lead fairly early in the first half, but could not hang on for the full 90, Belgium eventually pulled one back. Thankfully they could not grab another, and the Egyptians in attendance all seemed relatively pleased and looking forward to the two easier matches in their group.

I came to Little Arabia today on the off-chance I could find some Saudis for their first match against Uruguay. As kickoff approached and even after, I stopped into all the normal hookah spots that show football all year long, but was coming up empty until I arrived at Darna Café, my final stop. Still not much of a watch party, there were Saudis that were here together and very attentive to the match, so I decided to call it a success and enjoyed the second half here with a Gaza-style falafel sandwich.

The match ended in a 1-1 draw and did not have a lot of excitement. The Saudi team is not really known for excitement, despite upsetting the eventual champions Argentina in 2022. It was certainly not known yet, but Uruguay would go on to be the biggest disappointment of the tournament, and did not seem interested in this match at all. Thankfully the audience here at this Palestinian café was happy with the point, especially thinking they would get a chance at three more when they played Cabo Verde.

I made my way home for the late match between IR Iran and New Zealand. It was taking place in Los Angeles, so I figured most of the fans would be at the stadium and not in their usual meeting spots.

For the second day in a row I was headed to Little Arabia, this time on an Iraqi lead and a similar hookah bar hop as yesterday to find Algerians. I had a stop along the way before that though, and that was to see my adopted second team of Sénégal in Inglewood. A group of people I had met shortly after moving to Los Angeles was always a good bet for getting together, so I hit them up for info. This year, a woman they knew had just bought the next door property to her beauty shop on Market Street in Inglewood, and they organized a watch party there.

She even prepared some food and drink to give out to everyone who made it for Sénégal’s first match against France. Had I known this, I would not have eaten lunch at home before leaving, but I did enjoy a couple delicious glasses of homemade bissap juice.

As the match wrapped up and only the two weird French people who wandered in were happy, it was time to make the drive down to Anaheim. Thankfully the timing of these two matches was not bad and the midday drive was pretty economical. My plan was to watch at Nubia Café, which had a pretty decent Iraqi crowd for the intercontinental playoff back in March. Arriving about 20 minutes before kickoff and seeing no one there yet, I decided to take another loop around Little Arabia to see if there were crowds at the other hookah spots.

This was unfruitful, but at the same time a message from the Algerian community in Los Angeles was sent out for their match. Instead of doing another Little Arabia search, there was now a confirmed get together in Santa Monica. This was good enough news for me to head back to Nubia Café, have some minty lemonade and a shawarma wrap, and watch the first half next to an Iraqi American from Chicago who was in town for business.

There was also one table of fans back on the patio watching, but I considered this my first failure of the tournament. It did not seem right to call this a watch party, and I knew I would have to make the drive out to San Bernardino County for one of two better options for a later match. Speaking of driving, a look at traffic made it apparent I should leave at halftime to arrive in Santa Monica in time.

It was a little late to find them at their corner meetup near the 3rd Street Promenade, but it did not take long to track down the watch party as they belted out songs from the second floor bar of the Holey Moley Golf Club. A few Algerian flags were also hung from the balcony, so I headed upstairs to join the party.

Since I was prepared at the beginning of the day to possibly not find an Algerian party, this felt like a good trade for the lack of Iraq. Spirits were high during national anthems, even though Algeria was playing the reigning champions. They came out working hard and even put the ball in the net eight minutes into the match. The balcony went crazy as men danced together and everyone chanted “One Two Three Viva l’Algerie!”

Unfortunately, VAR reared its ugly head and disallowed the goal. Less than ten minutes later, Messi put Argentina’s first on the board, and Argentina would go on to win 3-0. The overall sense from the party seemed to be optimism though, that the team would lift themselves up and do better in the next matches.

I did not have a lead for the last match of the day, which pitted Austria against Jordan. It was also a 21:00 kickoff time, so I retreated home from Santa Monica exhausted.

While I was having thoughts of quitting this ridiculous push, I did not give up but came to a bit of a compromise. This was the first of four days that I would just see one match per day, and hope to build a reservoir of energy as match day two came around it it would become clear which nations I needed to see before the knockout round.

With this in mind, I skipped the Portuguese Hall in Artesia for the first match of the day, a draw between Portugal and DR Congo, and also passed on good looking events for both England and Croatia in the second match. I may have taken the entire day off if I had not already purchased a ticket for a Panamanian event in Long Beach.

Caribbean Soul Kitchen LA had recently moved from Mid-Wilshire to Long Beach and rebranded as Panamá International Kitchen. Besides a wonderful backyard in Carson and some annual events, it is the only place in town to find Panamanian food, and was hosting ticketed events for all three of Panamá’s three group stage matches.

As the match wore on goalless, I did not feel any of the energy returning I was hoping for, but it was nice to be surrounded by the community, still starving for their first World Cup point after losing all three matches in 2018. The full restaurant cheered the whole time, on the edge of their seats except during halftime when the DJ took over.

Almost the entire way through my bucket of beers, Ghana scored in the fifth minute of second half stoppage time, and heads dropped throughout the restaurant. In a thoroughly uninspiring match, the worst had happened right at the death. Panamá would have to get their first result against either Croatia or England.

As match day two began, Thursday afforded the opportunity for a little detox and not actually attend a match even while checking off another nation. I had not found a Czech party yet, so instead I went to Inglewood, where both Bosnian and Swiss people were having events before their noon match at SoFi Stadium. I was particularly interested in the Bosnian party, which was taking place at The Tribe in downtown Inglewood.

This get together took place starting early in the morning, and promised the world’s largest Bosnian coffee pot, which I was eager to see. Even though there was plenty of time before kickoff, it seemed as though I had arrived as the party was wrapping up. Thankfully I was just in time to get a cup and enjoy the tail end of the revelry. I think the group needed to switch to a different beverage before heading to the stadium for a match they would probably not enjoy.

Thoroughly caffeinated, I headed for work and eventually home to enjoy as much of the later matches as I could. Qatar was still impossible and I purposefully avoided the México-South Korea match, knowing that Koreatown would not be an easy place to get around. Unfortunately, it turned out worse than anyone could have imagined.

Friday could have been another lazy affair if not for another ticketed event that got me out of the house. After watching the US-Australia and Scotland-Morocco matches at home, I wanted to connect with the Haitian community of Los Angeles and especially eat the food of Restoran Lakay, a vendor I had not been able to track down to this point. Haitian Spotlight LA had organized three watch parties, and this second one was coordinated with The Plant Chica in Leimert Park. The event overlapped with Leimert Park’s Pan-African Cookout, which had an incredible turnout and crowded the streets of the neighborhood.

As I arrived into the Plant Chica compound, a rousing game of Haitian bingo was taking place, which everyone seemed to be thoroughly engrossed in while they scarfed down plates of sòs poul and diri djon djon. Proceedings were hosted by a pair of well-known local Haitians, who did a good job keeping the crowd involved with humor and pride.

Looking back on the tournament, this seemed to be the only match that Brazil actually played well, which was a shame for the people having an otherwise great time at this event. As the score got worse over the course of the day, priorities changed to live music and more food. At halftime, I grabbed a plate of chiktay, a shredded codfish salad served with Haitian bread and a small portion of diri djon djon.

At the final whistle, it seemed has though the party was only getting started as more acts took the stage to lift the spirits of the crowd. Unfortunately the food had run out though, apparently everyone was satisfied with Restoran Lakay. A big respect must be offered to The Plant Chica and her thoroughly overwhelmed space, I am sure it was not easy to clean up afterwards, but her generosity in opening up for this event sure made a lot of people happy.

Still too exhausted to think about going to the Turkish event downtown for the late match, I retired home for the evening knowing I could catch it on match day three.

As the second weekend rolled around, my morning plans were in San Pedro. The Swedes and Norwegians share a church there, but on most days the Norwegians have authority, so the Church of Sweden was only able to host one event during the group stage. The Swedish American Chamber of Commerce was hosting events at the rooftop bar of the Bevery Hilton, but this matchday breakfast offering was far more my kind of style!

As everyone got settled in and enjoyed their Swedish breads, cheeses, and coffee, spirits of the crowd were high, especially as the anthem got started. Everyone rose and sang, the small community here in San Pedro joining together to offer their strength to the team. Unfortunately it was not nearly enough, as the Netherlands got off to a quick start and never looked back. One Sweden goal was cause for celebration just as a bit of release, but the joy did not last long.

Despite my hounding of an Ivorian fan I met at the Ecuador match, I had still failed to find events for Côte d’Ivoire or Curaçao, so a full work day was scheduled after the Swedish breakfast, and the Tunisia-Japan match was too late in the evening to think about tracking down the Eagles of Carthage.

Over the course of the next few days as match day two rolled into match day three, my pace would start to pick up again as I looked to somehow get to that ultimate goal of 48 nations.

Sunday would prove to be an exciting day because it held the first official event put on by Cape Verdeans of SoCal, but I stayed put for the first two matches. Spain was still easy to catch later in the tournament, and the Belgium-IR Iran match was in Los Angeles, meaning most of their fans would be in attendance rather than at watch parties.

For their match against Uruguay, the group had rented out Hawthorne’s Moose Lodge, and you could feel the excitement well before kickoff. For the ticket price of $25, the event included an all-you-can-eat buffet and the promise of a good time with a DJ and probably a good portion of Southern California’s expat community. There was even a merch table with lots of good options to put the Blue Sharks on your head or chest.

The bar of the Moose Lodge was open for the event as well, and all their beers seemed to have the price of two decades prior, another perk. The main ballroom and the bar filled to just about capacity by the time the match started, and everyone seemed optimistic for another good time after the world had already fallen in love with 40-year-old goalie Vozinha when they drew Spain. Even FIFA had sent a camera crew.

The match went back and forth, which made for some really good excitement and plenty of highs and lows in the Moose Lodge. Another round purchased at the bar, another look to see what had not been taken from the buffet, and some more music and dancing at halftime. At final whistle, the mood was incredible, as Cabo Verde was still unbeaten at the World Cup, and had their easiest match in the group still to look forward to when they played Saudi Arabia on match day three.

It was sad to leave the party, which would presumably continue for hours, but from Hawthorne I needed to drive to Culver City. The Kiwi owners of Tangeroa Fish Market also operate The Washington, a corner bar a little ways east on Washington Blvd. This has been the local spot for late-night broadcasts of rugby from back home for a while now, and of course they were excited about the World Cup.

A large billboard was even in place over the bar advertising the All Whites, a play on the more famous rugby heroes known as the All Blacks. The New Zealand flag flew right above the door, and some lager from the country was even available in beautiful cans.

A good gathering of Kiwis was here for the match, and things were feeling positive for the Oceania side after their draw with IR Iran. A good result here, and the nation could just about clinch a berth in the knockout round, something no one expected. The All Whites scored first after just 15 minutes in Vancouver, and things looked even better for a while, as they took this slim margin into halftime. The plastic kiwis over the bar and furry ones on people’s head must have been feeling good. But Mo Salah and the Egyptian team were too much in the end, scoring three in the second half and really putting New Zealand in their place.

Once the second weekend was in the books, the tournament had no break and continued at pace on Monday with four more matches. I scheduled some work while Argentina played Austria and France played Iraq, unfortunately four nations I had not yet cheered with. For the third match of the day, I made my first of three trips behind enemy lines. While the folks who run Joxer Daly’s are very nice people, unfortunately their bar is infiltrated by Woolwich scum and always makes being here tough.

But on this day, there was another event hosted by Peer Gynt LA, and this time it had the added bonus of being the premier for Norwegian waffle vendor Vaffel & Venn. This operation was set up out front, with plenty of Norwegian flags and waffle irons. After my reporting on that day, local press swarmed and wrote about their operation, hopefully giving them a big boost that will survive the end of the tournament.

Once I took my Norwegian brown cheese and berry jam vaffel inside, the atmosphere was ramping up with plenty of red jerseys and even some horned heads taking their places in the sticky-floored bar. Unfortunately Joxer Daly’s does not carry any Norwegian lagers, but the people made up for it. This was still early in the tournament, when neutral fans were falling in love with Erling Haaland and viking rows.

Despite the eventual close scoreline, Norway seemed to control the match from nearly the first kick, although they were only winning by a 1:0 score at halftime. After Haaland scored shortly into the second half, you could tell the audience here was taking their cues from the crowd in New Jersey, rowing along with them when the TV feed showed the stadium revelry.

I was happy not to feel rushed for the next match, so I stayed after the final whistle to see all the rowing and enjoy a rare win at the watch parties. Since I have to make sure to see all the nations at risk of being eliminated after three matches, I always end up seeing a lot of losses in this early stage of the tournament. Obviously it is much more fun to be around happy people!

Sepulveda Pass traffic had already died down nicely by 19:30, so I drove from Culver City to Sherman Oaks easily to track down the Ramallah Club of LA & OC, who was hosting a watch party at Game Changer Brewhouse on Ventura Blvd. Much larger events for Southern California’s huge Jordanian population were taking place in Little Arabia (especially Kababji Restaurant) and San Bernardino, but an easy drive was the right decision on this night.

This was the first time that Jordan has ever qualified for the World Cup, and Al-Nashama was never expected to do much in the tournament. This was not shown in the spirit of its people living in this nation though, as they were seen traveling en masse to the stadiums to follow the team. Scenes from Southern California were equally impressive, and while this gathering did not match those, it still got quite excited when they took a 1:0 lead in the first half.

The second half was unfortunately all Algeria, and the eventual loss meant that Jordan was eliminated even before they had a chance to pull off a miracle against Argentina on the final match day. It always seems so fast how quickly dreams can die once the tournament begins. After almost a year of build up, it was not to be, although I am sure all of those experiences getting together will live on with the fans forever.

Another nation at risk of elimination was the target of Tuesday’s early match. My inquiries at the Central Asian food trucks downtown had alluded to only some private gatherings at homes, so I picked match day two to try out Zira Uzbek Kitchen on Melrose Avenue. They had been advertising three watch parties since the beginning of the tournament, but this morning event afforded the opportunity to try their Silk Road breakfast.

By happenstance, I was seated with another solo customer, so we got to order the feast which requires a two person minimum. My table mate Samuel also ended up being a real good breakfast companion, into enjoying the World Cup like this and also very knowledgeable about the sport in general. His only flaw was being a Chelsea fan, but I forgave him and we had a great time.

The match unfortunately did not provide for joy like the meal. Uzbekistan, like Jordan, was playing in their first World Cup, and was having an equally difficult time. Ronaldo decided to wake up for one match this tournament, and this was the one he chose. At one point there was an Uzbek goal, but VAR took it away like it always does. After a brief round of cheer in the restaurant, the long faces returned and everyone focused back on their foods to avoid feeling too bad.

Even after two hours, Samuel and I had no chance at finishing our Silk Road breakfast, as courses of bread and eggs made it enough food to fill four hungry construction workers. As the score rose to 5:0, we were just hoping until the very end that there would be one goal for the faithful to cheer. Unfortunately it never came, and Uzbekistan would have to win their last match against DR Congo by a lot of goals if they wanted any chance of advancing to the knockout stages.

My extremely full belly would stay that way for most of the rest of the day, making the full Ghanaian buffet at the next event off limits for me. This was a shame, but the event itself was fun to be around even if my face was a surprise to most guests. A couple who are part of the Ghana Association of Southern California decided to host the match day two contest with England at their Baldwin Hills home, and those from the community that could make it all seemed to be here.

Their home seems to be outfitted for events, with many different types of spaces set up for small and large groups, all with a TV of course. I grabbed a seat in a back room by the pool where the DJ and bar were located, and they were providing beers for only a couple buck donation (or more if you prefer). I gave the bartender the only $10 in my pocket and asked if I could grab another in the second half, then focused on the match. Both teams seemed uninspired, so the crowd got less and less interested.

After two matches Ghana had yet to be scored on, and their win against Panamá and this draw against England set them up nicely to advance to the knockout stages. Even more fun than the match was halftime here at the pool, where the DJ got things going and a dance party ensued. Everyone used this opportunity to fill their plates again, and reluctantly went in to watch the rest of the uninspiring match.

Wednesday was the beginning of match day three and unfortunately the day that I would suffer my first casualty. As both Group B matches kicked off at noon, I had still never found an event for Qataris in Los Angeles. This was to be expected, as even back in 2022 when their nation hosted the World Cup, I could not find anything either. I imagine some rich businessmen gathering in a penthouse or possibly the consulate, but unfortunately I am not yet in their Rolodex.

Planning to pick up Morocco in the Round of 32 next week, I also skipped Group C matches this day and planned more (real) work during these times. I did have to spring into action later in the day though, as American Sokol Los Angeles finally got their stuff together, asked ChatGPT to spit out a hideous flyer for them, and planned a meeting for their match against México.

This took place at Busby’s West, which had been a gathering spot for many of the World Cup matches for this part of Santa Monica. As expected, when I arrived it was only green jerseys, much like the rest of Los Angeles. I grabbed a spot at the wrap-around bar and waited to see if anyone ever arrived, paying special attention during Czechia’s national anthem.

It took a bit, but the Czechs of Los Angeles did eventually start trickling in, finding one of the last remaining nooks to gather together and watch the lost cause. I found them brave, but since they were not that vocal, the 99% Mexican crowd let them cheer in peace. It helped that there was nothing for them to actually cheer, as El Tri completed dominated the match, making it three for three going into the knockout phase.

During the drive home from Santa Monica, I had time to reflect that I had made the halfway point of 24 nations, with only one miss so far. This felt like a pretty good success, and the record of 31 was surely to be surpassed by many. At this point, I was thinking I could at least get to 40.

The beginning of the second half of nations continued a bit like match day three was expected to, with another miss. When both Group E matches came to an end, so did my efforts to find fans from Curaçao. I had still come up empty with Côte d’Ivoire as well, but thankfully they advanced to the knockout stages and I could continue bothering the one Ivorian contact I had made.

The next matches of the day were in Group F, where one contest pitted two nations I had yet to see. The Netherlands were likely to move on at the top of their group, but this would put them in line for a tough matchup against Morocco in the Round of 32, another nation I was yet to see. To avoid missing one of these two, I planned to go with Moroccans in that next match and grabbed a ride with my wife to Culver City as she went to work in Venice. Unfortunately it was back to Joxer Daly’s, where Dutch Kings Day LA had been hosting parties for their first three group stage matches.

Inside of the bar, everything was bright orange of course, the recognizable color of the Dutch jersey. The red white and blue from the flag was also painted on the face of everyone, and did not seem to be an option as even I was tagged. My reward I suppose for reaching 24 of the 48 nations.

Netherlands had two balls in Tunisia’s net within the first ten minutes and never really looked threatened even when Tunisia got one back in the second half. The defense was solid, and whichever team Jan Paul van Hecke is on professionally is probably going to go on and do really good things this season. What a beast.

Since I had chosen the winner for this match, it had the unfortunate result of losing another team. Tunisia was the only one I would lose this tournament that actually surprised me, and I figure there probably was something around. A couple events for the early matches I had missed had very minimal promise, but there must have been something somewhere. Any leads?

After the match, I hopped on the Culver City bus right in front of bar and made my way to Metro E line and onto Downtown. Right in front of City Hall, the Turkish government had a week-long event called Türkiye Is Here, or the Turkish Vibe Zone. This was happening every day between Türkiye’s second and third matches in the group stage, but was particularly lively before and during these games. They set up a giant screen, and many Turkish people who did not have the means to go to matches in person had the chance to celebrate together here.

For the food lover, the event also gave attendees an opportunity to eat and drink a lot of good treats. The major sponsor was a genocide supporter, but it was easy not to sample their yogurt and focus on the people making baklava, Turkish coffee, simit, and other items. Türkiye had a somewhat shocking first two matches, losing both, and this had the unexpected result of seeing them eliminated before this match began. This was evident in the faces of its fans, although everyone was trying to have a good time under the hot late-afternoon sun.

As stated before, I have been a fan of the USMNT for most of my life, and for full transparency, I left this event in time to make the quick trip home to watch on my own. I don’t want to be “that guy” at someone else’s event. Neither team had much to play for, and the United States lineup was proof that they were protecting their main players from injury and fatigue. Coupled with the fact that the Turkish side was eliminated already, I did not expect much from the match. Five goals later, including a last-second winner for Türkiye, and I was proven wrong!

Groups G, H, and I all had their final match day on this Friday, and to pick up three nations that were very close to elimination, I needed to plan a big day. It was bound to be a lot of fun and very delicious of course, but I was a little wary of all the travel ahead of me. For the most part, this was due to a late-morning trip out to Upland, where the largest Iraqi gatherings had been taking place so far.

After Iraq’s losses to Norway and France, it was obvious that excitement had cooled a bit around the nation’s second World Cup, and first in 40 years. Because I had decided that my first attempt for Iraq in Little Arabia was unsuccessful, I had to skip another gathering with Senegalese friends in Inglewood and come to the somewhat posh Kahramana Restaurant in San Bernardino County.

There were some great scenes from their social media for Iraq’s first two matches, and all the flags of West Asia and North Africa were proof they were cheering on the many Muslim nations here. The weekday lunchtime combined with a lackluster team unfortunately meant that the restaurant would not fill up, but almost two dozen of the most passionate fans did show up for their nation. It was possible after all, that a big victory could send them into the knockout round.

Unfortunately for the patrons, it was Sénégal that got the big win and advanced, looking like they were in a completely different league than the Lions of Mesopotamia. There was a full three hours from final whistle to kickoff in the next match, so I hung around for the entire beating, paid my bill for some excellent shawarma, and made my way to Anaheim.

After queuing for some Costco gas, and taking care of my car in a self-service car wash, I slowly made my way over to El Gaucho Meat Market. This and its location in Redondo Beach are often called Argentinian, and they do sell plenty of products from that country, but the owner here is from Uruguay. Products and food from this much smaller neighbor of Argentina are harder to find, so this place is a treasure chest for folks now living in Southern California.

I had originally hoped to see another match with the Cape Verdean folks in Hawthorne today, but Uruguay was in such trouble of elimination that this visit seemed necessary. Sitting on only two points and having to play Spain in the third match was definitely not the tournament they were envisioning. Thankfully, the food here is excellent, so I ordered the distinctly Uruguayan chivito sandwich and an empanada, grabbed a little dish of homemade chimichurri, and settled in to watch the match (and the crowd) here at El Gaucho.

I always try to see Uruguay matches here at the Anaheim location or nearby Puerto Madero, because they have great atmosphere and stadiums hand-painted around their dining areas. The tables always fill with people wearing the sky blue of La Celeste, and the food counter also sells various bottled beers although unfortunately not Pilsen from back home.

Uruguay must be considered the biggest disappointment of the tournament, and did not play any better today when it was necessary. Losing to the eventual champions finalized their elimination, despite the efforts of the partisan crowd here in Anaheim. I felt a bit sorry for everyone, this of course is the other side of a Cinderella story. Upsets require losers, and Cape Verde was moving on. It was a good thing I came to watch today, because it would be Uruguay’s last match.

For the final round of the day, I wanted to check out two different spots close together in and near Westwood. Since four years ago, the landscape of IR Iran’s fans in Los Angeles had taken a 180. With everything happening to the country and its team, politics were impossible to separate. But after some initial hesitation, it did seem like Los Angeles’s mostly monarchist diaspora was behind the team.

The first stop was Meymuni Cafe, a place that seemed to have popped up out of nowhere after its owner posted about the matches on social media. Their small cafe hosted a good crowd for the first match, and by the time the third rolled around they needed to expand into the connecting garage. When I arrived about ten minutes before kickoff, the entire place was jam-packed with supporters for the ticketed event.

Within the first 15 minutes there were two goals and a missed penalty, so I was able to see a full range of emotion and hear a full range of audio echoing off the concrete interior. A draw might work for Iran to advance, but only a win would guarantee it, so when Egypt scored in the fifth minute, the mood dropped even before everyone had the chance to finish their snacks. A missed penalty was Iran’s chance to equalize, and a deep collective sigh seemed to fill the space. Luckily only a few minutes later Team Melli finally broke through and tied it up. Game on.

For the second half, I shifted location and drove up Westwood Blvd. to Saffron & Rose Persian Ice Cream. I noticed by the third match they had gotten in the spirit and advertised they would be setting up an additional TV outside on the sidewalk. The street was completely overwhelmed when I arrived, and shortly thereafter the police came. A quick shift of some parked cars and the problem was solved with plenty more space for onlookers.

Unfortunately for me there was no way to get inside for a cup of their delicious offerings because of the sheer mass of humanity. Unfortunately for Iran there were no more goals, and the draw meant they had to wait for the next 24 hours and cheer for some other results to go their way.

After the previous day’s travels, I was again at the point of exhaustion and against better judgement did not see any of the six matches the next day, hoping it would not come back to bite me. Thankfully Croatia, DR Congo, and Austria got the necessary points to advance and I did not lose anymore by sitting home.

At the end of the group stage I was able to cheer with 28 nations, and had only missed three nations that were now eliminated and impossible. Before the knockout matches begin, I still technically had the chance to reach 45, but would need some good fortune in results and some more reconnaissance to find a couple pesky hiding sets of fans.

The Round of 32 began with just one Sunday match between South Africa and Canada, taking place at SoFi in Inglewood. I was tempted to rejoin the Swazi Sunshine for their pre-match festivities and march to the stadium, but ended up just taking a second straight day off as it seemed necessary to recharge. Since I already had cheered with these two nations back at the very beginning of the tournament, I felt comfortable staying in.

The first of three matches on Monday saw Brazil face off against Japan, another two nations I had already checked off. I was really interested in this match and wanted to pay attention, so I once again enjoyed this one from the comfort of the sofa.

I had originally made plans to see the second match with a group of Paraguayan people. I had reached out to a woman who sells Paraguayan food from her home, and learned of a small gathering that she was going to be cooking for. There are not many people from the country here in Southern California, but they seem like a tight group and this was an honor. Unfortunately a kitchen accident forced her husband to the emergency room, and the event was cancelled, so I made a backup plan for Germany.

Since Die Mannschaft was heavily favored, this would probably mean that I would miss out on Paraguay this tournament and lose a 4th team, but this seemed to be the beginning of an enormous run of good fortune. When I want to see German matches, I usually look up where the Bayern supporters are meeting in either Los Angeles or Orange County. This filters out the gatherings of seventh-generation Americans who claim the culture but probably do not speak more than three words of German.

Sticking to Los Angeles County for the day, this brought me to the relatively new Silver Lake United pub, a place I had wanted to check out for a while anyways. I remember when the owner had been organizing watches in the basement of a Highland Park church, and his love of the game was always contagious. That place was called The House of Football, and has now morphed into this full-service restaurant and bar.

As a bonus, an Austrian sausage vendor had set up shop outside, so after a lackluster currywurst during the first half, I grabbed a käsekrainer at the break. While the cheese-filled sausage itself was decent, the strongest point of this vendor seemed to be sausage puns rather than the food itself. The bread was awful, but at least I was full and would not have to buy more mediocre food.

Next time I come to Silver Lake United I will stick to a burger or sandwich and enjoy the great atmosphere. This is a special place for Los Angeles, and I hope it survives for a long time. Unfortunately for Germany, survival did not happen as they played pretty lackluster football and lost on penalties to the small South American nation. It turned out that luck was on my side, maybe I could still catch them in the Round of 16.

As the match was clinched for Paraguay, I had a drive west to La Cienega Blvd. in the Pico-Robertson area. An event space had been used by Moroccans in LA a couple times already, and looked like a fun place to catch their difficult Round of 32 match against Netherlands. I should have saved my appetite because a Moroccan caterer was also set up for the event and cooking lots of wonderfully smelling food. She was also grilling out back, and the party continued well after the match was over.

The match itself was a slow burn, with Morocco looking a bit more timid than usual. It took 72 minutes for the first goal to come, scored by the opponents unfortunately. There was not much noise happening in the room for the next 20 minutes besides one man who kept calling his team “F-ing cowards” over and over, not getting on the good side of many other attendees.

Just after 90 minutes elapsed, Morocco got their breakthrough, with Issa Diop heading home an excellent cross to tie the game. From then on, it seemed like penalties were inevitable, and eventually Morocco were less bad than the Dutch and squeaked out a victory and a place in the Round of 16.

In that match against Canada, the same group would be renting out a mansion in the hills and having a pool party with outdoor screens and the same chef. That must have been quite the event! With four nations now qualified for the next round, there were still four more days and twelve matches left in the Round of 32. I had my work still cut out for me.

Tuesday would see my old record of 31 from 2014 broken, but it also saw the 4th nation I was not able to find during the tournament. Despite my best efforts, I was never able to find a gathering, and based on the words of the one fan I had met, there just was not enough people in Los Angeles to get one going. When Norway eliminated Côte d’Ivoire, my maximum was lowered to a possible 44.

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