The World Cup, that quadrennial collision of nationalism and commerce, has always promised its sponsors two things: vast television audiences and streets full of free-spending tourists in branded apparel.
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By StuAIrt Elliott
· June 4, 2026
The World Cup, that quadrennial collision of nationalism and commerce, has always promised its sponsors two things: vast television audiences and streets full of free-spending tourists in branded apparel.
The last time a major American broadcaster promoted a sporting event by asking someone to sit in a glass box in Times Square, it was probably for something involving David Blaine.
The Jeep brand has been trying to remind Americans of something it would prefer they not forget: that before there was a superhero named Captain America, there were actual captains, in actual wars, driving actual Jeeps.
The tire retail category has long been considered, in industry parlance, "low-interest" — a designation that seems almost too polite for a business whose advertising has historically consisted of men in polo shirts gesturing at radials while a voiceover mentions road hazard warranties.
The promotional campaign for a movie typically unfolds in a series of carefully orchestrated steps: a teaser, a trailer, perhaps a billboard or two in Times Square, and finally the premiere itself.
The people who approve purchase orders have rarely been the stars of advertising campaigns, which tends to be a role reserved for the people who drink the beverages or drive the cars.
In soccer, the tap-in is the goal that requires no explanation and even less athleticism — the ball arrives at the foot already destined for the net, and the striker need only provide the final nudge.
The phrase "first principles," which has become something of a verbal tic among the venture capital set, made an unlikely appearance at the New York City Center on Monday night.
