The World Cup final is a time to pick a side, even if you have no connection to either team.
For the 98.9% of humanity that is neither Spanish nor Argentinian, any reason will do: a favorite kit, admiration for Lionel Messi, or a grudge over the Falklands.
>>> Injured Bald Eagle Rescued in California Following Intense Bird Fight
At MetLife Stadium on Sunday night, the crowd was a mix of incongruous loyalties. Mike Tyson wore an Argentina shirt; Trevor Noah wore Spain's.
Ticket sales showed most attendees were Americans, treating the match as a grand cosplay for the New Jersey leisure market.
This tournament has highlighted a hidden trend: national allegiance as a single-use consumer brand.
Bangladesh went wild for Argentina; Central Asian friends in London cheered for Uzbekistan; the Arab diaspora backed Morocco and Egypt.
Even leftwing progressives who usually shun the St George's Cross painted it on their cheeks.
Such behavior upends the traditional view of the World Cup as a playground for nationalism. Instead, it demonstrates the fragility of nationhood.
Social psychologist Michael Billig's concept of 'banal nationalism' has become so disposable that national identity can be slipped on and off like a football shirt.
The Modern World Cup's Dual Functions
The tournament forces us to confront multiple identities that cut across national boundaries.
It also interrogates how we pledge allegiance, a process that usually lies latent until the urgent question arises: 'Who do I support for this game?'
Historian Eric Hobsbawm's idea of football gestating an 'imagined community of millions' now resonates differently.
