The USA has a spy problem: the Art of War and Sportswashing

Editor’s Note: The following is an opinion piece. It reflects the personal thoughts and observations of the author, a professional in the football world with deep experience in the Californian and Latin American game. This is not an investigative article and does not make factual claims about individuals or institutions, but instead raises critical questions, impressions, and hypotheses about the state of the modern game. The aim is not to defame, but to provoke deeper reflection and conversation.
This isn’t about the CIA or FBI—this is about something much more benign, something the USA doesn’t think is worth spying over. And that’s their problem. The rest of the world has shown prowess in this spy field and has used it to discredit enemies, promote their own values, and grow their international reach. Because while the USA uses spies to attack enemies politically, the rest of the world uses spies to attack enemies—using sports.

This isn’t a ridiculous notion. The USA itself has philosophized over the concept of what it eventually called “sportswashing.”
the Oxford English Dictionary defines "sportswashing" as:
“The use of sport or a sporting event to promote a positive public image for a sponsor or host (typically a government or commercial organization).”
Sportswashing, simply put, is when a state uses sporting events to present itself in a positive light, usually to cover up political instability or violations of anyone’s rights by the state in question. In other words: a Super Bowl.
Less cynically, most countries host the Olympics or the World Cup for the international recognition and pride that come with successfully pulling a grand event like that off.
Perhaps the best example of sportswashing was none other than the 2018 World Cup in Russia. Yes, that Russia—the same one now at the center of international controversy for its invasion of Ukraine. Looking back, it makes perfect sense. Russia used the World Cup to build goodwill and distract everyone from its growing imperial ambitions. Sportswashing.
And it’s funny—the 2018 World Cup is a perfect place to begin our story, because that’s the very tournament that Kylian Mbappé won for France at just 20 years old. There were already whispers of a new generation emerging after Ronaldo and Messi, but Mbappé solidified himself as a pillar of that future. A student of history—and anyone who has read How Soccer Explains the World or Soccernomics—could have already predicted France’s heavy advantage going into the 2022 World Cup.
For one, Russia’s modern imperial ambitions were nurtured out of its older imperial identity—an identity that relied heavily on France as an ally and was shaped by an aristocracy modeled after France’s. An identity with a flag that shares the French colors and frankly resembles the French flag closely. No, the Russians didn’t want France to win—they wanted Russia to win, obviously. But Russians are famously pessimistic, and they never really expected their team to win the tournament.

Still, one of the key advantages of hosting a World Cup is none other than home-field advantage, and Russia intended to use it as a part of their sportswashing strategy. Even a mediocre team can ride the wave of fanatical support and the acclimation that comes from playing at home. We know these fields. We know this air. We know this weather. We know these fans. Russians came out to support their national team, and the team reached the quarterfinals—to the shock of everyone.
It’s generally understood in the world of football that performing well in a World Cup can be a sign of a country's cultural validity. In hindsight, it’s clear that it was home-field advantage that propelled the Russians further than their actual quality warranted. But in the drunken ecstasy of the moment, it seemed like this new Russian Federation had been validated for reaching so far in the tournament. It enabled the rest of the world to turn the other cheek, even as evidence mounted that Russia was preparing to invade Ukraine.
It made poetic sense that the team to eventually knock Russia out was Croatia—a team that had been steadily improving in quality well before 2018. Not only that, but the Croatians were the only other Slavs still alive in the tournament. Once they inherited that symbolic torch from the Russians, they rode it all the way to the final. But it was in the final that France beat them—with experience, and perhaps their historic cultural connection to the Russian tsarist elite.

More importantly, France’s 20-year-old star boy now had a World Cup under his belt—before either Messi or Ronaldo. It was clear: France held the key to football’s future and was set to be the team to beat in the coming years.
And the North Americans? The Mexicans couldn’t make it out of the Round of 16, while neither the USA nor Canada even qualified. Interesting how the Russians were able to host their World Cup without their sworn enemies—or should I say, their “new friends.” But there is likely no conspiracy here. The USA failed to qualify for the 2018 World Cup in Russia simply because they couldn’t play good enough football. This is the USA after all, and in the USA it's just soccer.
In 2022, this pattern of inherited home-field advantage repeated itself when Morocco inherited the Arab home advantage from the Qatari hosts. The Moroccans went on a Cinderella run to fourth place. The USA did qualify for this tournament and represented CONCACAF—but exited once again in the Round of 16. Still, after their absence in 2018, the USA was seen as finally improving and becoming more stable.
Now, I’ve realized I’ve reached the limit of how long I can talk about “soccer” before people in the USA lose interest. Which is why I’ve strategically decided to transition to something my more “All-American” types can follow more passionately: baseball.
Despite what you might think, I was born and raised in Southern California, and I love baseball as much as I love fútbol, tacos, and apple pie. Which is why I am all the more concerned.
On paper, the USA should be the kings of baseball—founders of the sport and home to the most prestigious and successful professional leagues. And yet, in 2023, they lost to Japan in the final of the World Baseball Classic. Players on the US team, in their defense, argued that they simply did not prioritize this tournament over winning the MLB’s World Series, dismissing it as a glorified preseason event. Brandon Nimmo, when asked about his decision to skip the 2023 World Baseball Classic, was candid about his priorities:
“The most important thing for me right now is being on the field and ready for Opening Day. I want to win a World Series, and maybe that makes me, you know, a bad person — that I would rather win a World Series than the WBC right now. Like, that’s where I’m at in my career.” (Nimmo, quoted in Awful Announcing, 2023)
But I argue that that’s a lame ass excuse—and I know some who agree with me.
The USA Men’s Olympic basketball team tried to make a similar argument in 2004, when the home country of the NBA left with only a bronze medal. They were heavily criticized—not just for their performance, but for their dismissal of said performance.
“We didn’t play to win. We played like we was trying to do our best to finish this and go home.” — Stephon Marbury, reflecting on Team USA’s 2004 Olympic performance (Basketball Network)
Since then, the USA Men’s Basketball Team has won five gold medals and made basketball one of the highlights of the Olympic Games. As the game grows in Europe and América, the USA team consistently proves itself against ever-stronger international competition. But for some reason, baseball in the USA does not face this same expectation.
I believe that’s because baseball fans in the USA agree with the players.
Much has been said about American football’s lack of international influence—but baseball has grown, and is still growing. The USA’s response? To simply not care about anyone else. Because how can you be hurt by something you don’t care about? Surely it must sting to lose at the sport you invented—your “national pastime.” Just ask the English. So when Japan beats you? You feign indifference.
I know my fellow US citizens cared about that tournament—I was right there with them, beer in hand, watching it closely.
And I can tell you who else cared: everyone else in the tournament. A whopping 20 nations. These nations and cultures do not see playing this game as a reflection of the USA’s culture. They see it as a reflection of their own. To play this sport is to inherit another country’s national pastime—and make it a national element of your own. Japan has, México has, and even the countries absent from the were at least of aware of as much.
Sure, it’s unlikely the whole world was watching the tournament as closely as a World Cup—but I assure you, everyone got the news. The USA knew what to make of it for themselves. But is the USA aware of what the rest of the world made of it?

The USA just got beat in their national sport by the country they bombed in WWII. Times have changed, haven’t they?
But the USA doesn't care about the loss you say? Yeah, that’s probably what I’d be saying too if I were in that situation. If there’s an opposite of sportswashing, it’s gotta be that.
The star of the tournament? Japan’s national treasure: Shohei Ohtani. Ohtani had just spent five years in the USA—California, to be exact. Even in the shadow of Dodger Stadium, he proved to be one of the best and most consistent players in MLB. His generational run at the 2023 World Baseball Classic earned him a call from the Dodgers—and now, Ohtani is a World Series champion. The tournament that had been the true object of the USA’s baseball desires—even as they contended for the world title. Ohtani finally got to see the other side. And surely, he was honored and overjoyed.

But do you think he viewed his international win as less than his club championship? There is no answer to that question—yet. One may come when the World Baseball Classic returns in 2026—coincidentally, the same year the USA will host the 23rd FIFA World Cup.
The USA has qualified by way of hosting this time around—and I have used baseball to prove a point, and to win back some fútbol talk.
Now I know what you are thinking: isn’t this whole thing supposed to be about spying? It is—and that’s why I mentioned Ohtani. A generational talent playing in the USA and winning their trophies, but at the end of the day, fundamentally loyal to his home country. Did Ohtani spy on the USA for five years in order to defeat them at the 2023 World Baseball Classic? Probably not. But Ohtani is talented, smart, and loyal to Japan—which ultimately worked out in their favor. And probably will again in 2026.
Whether or not Ohtani openly spied on the USA, he did do one thing: he proved a case study for anyone wanting to understand how to defeat another team in an international tournament. While people in the USA may scoff at the idea of spying on something as “trivial” as sports, remember that in 2024, Canada was caught using drones to spy on football training sessions during the Summer Olympics in Paris ... yes, Canada.
“A drone was allegedly used to spy on a training session of one of their opponents, New Zealand. The head coach, Bev Priestman, was subsequently banned by Fifa for a year, while analyst Joseph Lombardi and the assistant coach Jasmine Mander were also banned after the allegations. Priestman was removed from her role.” The Guardian
2024 also happened to be the year of the 48th Copa América tournament, the second most prestigious football tournament for national teams in América. Canada finished third in a competitive match against Uruguay, a World Cup champion. The USA, the host? Couldn’t even make it out of the group stage, humiliated and even disrespected by the same team that would end Canada’s Cinderella story with handshakes and congratulations.
Yes, Canada—just like France, Croatia, and Morocco before them—inherited the home-field advantage from the USA. But not only that, they straight-up spied. They knew that home-field advantage doesn’t come around often, and they understood that in order to progress, they needed to use every advantage at their disposal, even at the expense of another national team’s privacy. Again, the Canadians prove that while their only and more notable neighbors might not understand the implications of global perception, they certainly do. Football is not just life. Football is also war.
This comes at the perfect time, too. Canada, along with México, will be hosting the 2026 World Cup alongside the USA, splitting home-field advantage among the three nations.
Which makes this whole situation all the more interesting, because with just one more year to prepare for the World Cup, the USA has sabotaged all of its goodwill with both neighbors.
A trade war has boiled over in the home of NAFTA, and the Canadians themselves have publicly said their old friendship with the USA is “over,”
“The old relationship we had with the United States based on deepening integration of our economies and tight security and military cooperation is over,” Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney declared in March 2025, following the escalation of a trade dispute with the U.S. He emphasized that the U.S. is “no longer a reliable partner” and that future relations would require a fundamental reimagining. Carney also stated that Canada would need to “dramatically reduce” its reliance on the United States.
Source: Max Saltman, CNN, as reported by ABC17 News: Old US-Canada relationship is ‘over,’ warns Canadian prime minister
México on the other hand, is being threatened with military intervention by the USA over cartel activity and the shared border. Things are tense. And to make things tenser, these three will meet in the largest sporting event in the world.
And I do mean the world, bigger than the Olympics—which, again, is the USA’s biggest problem to begin with. It’s just soccer to the USA but to the rest of the world it is life. If you’ll foot the bill for the next South American baby boom, be my guest, but don’t play stupid. It’s not cute anymore. When a crowd crush nearly happens at the Copa América final in Miami, you need to get the memo. Indifference isn’t going to cut it in 2026. No one cares about "soccer" but football is life, people live for it. But football is also war and people will die for it just as well.
The USA has effectively set itself up for sportswashing but is falling asleep at the wheel. At least Russia had the common sense to hold a World Cup before starting all their controversy. But you know who isn’t falling asleep at the wheel? Reigning World Cup champions, Argentina.
It’s time to rewind to where it all started—the 2018 World Cup in Russia. Eventual 2022 champions, Argentina, went home after the Round of 16, losing to eventual 2018 champions France. In Russia, the Americans had no home-field advantage to inherit from anyone. The only two American teams to make it to the quarterfinals were Brazil and Uruguay, put away by a Croatia with a Slavic home advantage and champions France, respectively. Messi walked away from that tournament with a complicated history.
Maradona, the Argentinian legend and World Cup champion, passed away having said that Messi is “ great player but he's not a leader. It's useless trying to make a leader out of a man who goes to the toilet 20 times before a game.”— Diego Maradona, as reported by ESPN, October 13, 2018.
Source: ESPN ArticleESPN.com+3ESPN.com+3
To make matters worse, Messi competed and lost against a young man that would go on to win what Messi couldn’t even attain in his prime. If you're from the USA and weren’t paying attention—because you frankly couldn’t care less—I’ll sum it up briefly for you:
Messi is advertised and perceived like a superhero by a lot of the world, not only because he is talented and physically impressive, but because he is loyal and soft-spoken. Despite his deep loyalty to FC Barcelona, he ultimately chose to play for a wealthy Qatari-owned club. But Mbappé, a now-distinguished young man with a world championship under his belt, also happened to play for that same team.
While the Europeans and the rest of the world didn’t know what to make of all this, Messi and Mbappé seemed happy and mutually honored to play together. There’s a reason why I clarify that Mbappé was a young man—young men are naïve.
So when Argentina beat France in the 2022 final in the same country that owned both Messi and Mbappé’s professional contracts… let’s just say it was fishy. Mbappé, now a 24-year-old man, was no longer naïve, and was visibly upset. If Argentina did partake in espionage, they covered their tracks well.

But those of you reading from the USA may be thinking: isn't that “cheating”? After all, football is life and in life you don’t cheat. That’s true. But its not the whole picture, football isn’t just life. Football is also war. And in war, you do cheat. You just call it spying. Or you call it whatever Bill Belichick called it when he was deflating those pigskins—and just like that, you’re back.
But that wasn’t the only controversy linked to the 2022 World Cup, because just like Russia in 2018, the Qataris themselves were also accused of “sportswashing” as a way to distract from their human rights abuses—including, most ironically, the treatment of migrant workers during the building of the World Cup venues themselves.
It sure looks like the USA has set itself up for a sportswashing event of its own. Both of our cohosts have soured on us. The rest of the world has followed suit. Russia is still at war with Ukraine, and the US has vowed to stop helping, which has not gone over well with anyone—all of whom will be present at the World Cup come 2026. Perfect time for some good old-fashioned goodwill. But this is the USA, after all. And in the USA, it’s not football. Football is life. Football is war. But in the USA? It’s just soccer, remember?
This whole event is going over their heads, and if the 2024 Copa América was a test run, things are frankly not looking good. This is setting up to be more of a spectacle-wreck, or a sports stain. Like Brazil’s 7-1 home loss to Germany in 2014 that highlighted their class inequality. And Brazil has not been the same since.
But the reigning champions, Argentina? Their star player and team captain will have played for two-plus years at MLS franchise Inter Miami. As of right now, he already has one year and nine months under his tenure in the States, and so far, he has been heralded as the second coming of Pelé in the USA. Messi has generated a fortune for the US Soccer apparatus, selling out NFL stadiums and selling out his pink number 10 jersey. The same name and number 10 that will be albiceleste come 2026—and the same NFL stadiums will be full of US-born fans who will root for Messi out of muscle memory.

The USA is right in recognizing that it doesn’t need to win a World Cup. But Canada was able to win third in the Copa América—probably by spying. For Russia, a measly quarter final in a World Cup may have been enough to buy them some time in a war with Ukraine. As President Trump openly flirts with the idea of annexing Greenland and making Canada the “51st state” (no wonder they’re pissed), some sportswashing sounds like a slick part of a sleazy grand plan.
But I have a hunch—and only a hunch—that it’s not. That the USA will fail because it fails to realize what “soccer” means to the rest of the world. Football is life. Football is war.
Any Americano National teams would frankly be foolish not to take advantage of espionage when home-field advantage is at stake. What’s that? Yes, I do mean home-field advantage.
Argentina and Maradona won the World Cup final in 1986 by inheriting the home-field advantage against the Europeans in México’s national stadium—Estadio Azteca—(where is the USA’s national stadium?) solidifying Azteca as sacred ground for fútbol and a sacred place for Argentinos.

Estadio Azteca will be making a return in the 2026 World Cup, and the American home-field advantage will be up for grabs. Because as much as the sport has grown in all three countries, none of the hosts are expected to contend for the title. Canada has the best chances to go on another Cinderella run of their own, but if anyone is going to beat Argentina in 2026, it isn’t going to be the USA.
The U.S. Men’s National Team has struggled with hostile atmospheres during home games in the past, particularly against rivals like México. In the USA large, passionate away fanbases often dominate the stadiums.
During the 2021 CONCACAF Nations League Final in Denver, Colorado, the atmosphere resembled an away match for the USA, as México’s overwhelmingly vocal supporters filled most of the stadium—creating intense, chaotic scenes that underscored the U.S. team's ongoing struggle to assert true home-field advantage, even as they left the stadium victorious.
With all of the goodwill the USA has lost internationally, home-field advantage is not likely to be theirs. Not only that but the hostile home atmospheres will likely make a comeback as the USA makes more and more questionable political decisions, which means American home field advantage up for the taking.
While Brazil was gutted and sobbing by the rout Germany brought upon them at home in 2018, the USA was losing to México on US soil with the entire stadium cheering in ecstasy. The USA has since forgotten the days it played not just the away team in their own country, but the villains. Humiliated and laughed out of their own stadiums. Not just once but twice, in 2015 but perhaps most famously in 2011.
The scenes of the CONCACAF Gold Cup Finals at the Rosebowl may yet comeback.
The Rosebowl (México's other national stadium) will not be one of the venues for the 2026 world cup, but SoFi stadium will, and SoFi has already held México's Gold Cup and Nations league championship victories to a sold out crowd of satisfied México faithful. The USA? Lost in the same stadium to Panamá this year (2025) meaning that the USA will enter the world cup without a win in one of its premier venues of the tournament.
If the USA is instead relying on raw talent and skill to compete in the tournament however? Their recent performance has not shown a reflection of that because the USMNT's recent performance can be described as underwhelming. Disappointing results in the CONCACAF Nations League and inconsistent club form from key players have raised doubts about their quality. So if they are spying on anyone, they’re doing a lousy job.
But perhaps it’s part of the plan—to play the part of the underdog, or even the fool. But Argentina has won a World Cup. If there’s an upper hand, I trust the World Cup champions have it.
But the most important mechanism to a successful sports espionage? It's not the stadiums, its not the players, it’s the brains of the operations; the coaches. Tata Martino, a distinguished coach and well respected among his fellow Argentinos, coached Messi at Inter Miami after coaching… the US Men’s National Team. The current coach of the USMNT? Mauricio Pochettino, otro Argentino.
Let me be clear: I’m not accusing these professionals of bad faith. But still, something doesn’t sit right — just like in 2022. If Canada was caught using drones to spy on rival teams, it raises the question: what lines might other nations be willing to cross in pursuit of glory?
Even if there is no espionage going on whatsoever U.S. Soccer’s over-reliance on foreign pedigree will not make up for their lack of preparedness and direction, neither of which can be overcome using espionage or simple home field advantage either.
Nor do I imply that Messi is dishonest or doesn't deserve his World Cup championship. If I proved anything, it's that home field advantage is just that, an advantage but its not a guarantee. We can look back to the 2022 World Cup in Qatar and see that Messi played some of the best football he had ever played in his life, just like Ohtani played the best baseball in his.
But what about the cultures and societies that support such figures? What would they be willing to do underneath them? and is the USA even aware of any of it?
At the end of the day, anyone spying on the USSF or USNMT will not be doing it out of the malice towards the USA, they will be doing it because they want to win. Because this isn't "soccer" this is football, football is life, it’s not just gamesmanship—it’s geopolitical theater, played out on a pitch with eleven pawns and a billion viewers. Never allow your opponent a foothold—deny them any chance to turn the tide in their favor; Sun Tzu said, in the Art of War, and football isn't just life.
Football is war.







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