“Did you get our tickets yet?” That’s been the first question between fans in the stands this weekend—and the answer is too often a flat “no.” With kickoff of the expanded FIFA soccer Club World Cup getting underway this weekend, ticket sales are slumping. And it’s not just the tournament itself causing headaches; fans are worried about being stopped by immigration agents at U.S. sporting events, and the problems now underscoring ticket plans for both this month’s event and the massive 2026 FIFA World Cup.

Across U.S. host cities—Miami, Philadelphia, Seattle and others—tournament promoters are left scrambling. Tens of thousands of seats remain unclaimed. In Seattle, FIFA recently shut entire sections of the Sounders stadium and issued partial refunds, moving fans to other areas after weekslong sluggish sales. In Philadelphia, organizers are lowering ticket prices in hopes of drumming up interest—but that’s not the only fix needed .

What’s killing buzz? Part of it is the expansion of the tournament field from seven to 32 teams—what once felt exclusive now seems diluted in a U.S. market not yet hardcore about club soccer. But the elephant in the stadium isn’t on the field. It’s ICE.

Since last week, federal agencies including U.S. Customs and Border Protection and ICE have signaled a heavy presence at club matches—some even announcing they’d be “suited and booted” at stadium entrances. The move wasn’t subtle: social media posts, official comments, and even deleted statements hinted at stepped-up enforcement at fan entry points.

That’s put off a growing number of fans—particularly those from abroad or with any form of undocumented status. In Miami and Seattle, border‑control rumors have already caused cancellations in fan gatherings. One Washington defender said that even U.S.-based fans who routinely travel with passports felt uneasy .

“Fans just don’t feel safe,” says former DHS spokesperson Tom Warrick. “Seeing federal agents in uniform at stadium doors heightens anxiety—especially for immigrant communities that make up a large percentage of soccer fans”.

All of which spills over into next year’s FIFA World Cup, a truly mammoth affair co-hosted by the U.S., Mexico and Canada. With matches in 16 U.S. cities and expected attendance in the millions, ticket demand is already under pressure.

FIFA’s not even selling general‑public tickets yet. Hospitality packages are out—some selling for up to $73,200 per ticket—and there’s no firm price list for standard seats . Word is the public sales launch won’t come until Q3 2025, giving little lead time for international buyers.

Then there’s dynamic pricing. FIFA plans to mimic U.S. models used by major concerts and playoffs. That means prices rising in real time based on demand—and skyrocketing for fan‑favorite matches . England fans have already been bracing for match tickets to reach thousands of pounds—and U.S. ticket buyers can’t expect a discount, since the dynamic system exempts only local residents of host countries’ clubs.

On top of that, visa delays are getting worse. Some embassies are taking up to 18 months just to process standard tourist visas. Rumors swirl that national teams—or even club players—will be barred entry at matches . In fact, a player from Argentina’s Boca Juniors was reportedly denied entry ahead of a club‑world‑cup qualifier in the U.S.

Host‑city CEOs for the 2026 Cup admit no one knows how many visa‑dependent fans will actually show up . With ICE raids underway in Texas and California, political leaders from major cities—Los Angeles, New York, Philadelphia, Miami—are expressing concern.

FIFA President Gianni Infantino insists fans will be welcome . But FIFA also warned fans about third‑party ticket exchanges offering World Cup tickets for tens of thousands of pounds—transactions FIFA warns to be wary of.

This isn’t the first time mega‑sports ticketing has imploded. Recall Ticketmaster’s notorious crash with Taylor Swift sell‑outs and the Olympic studies messing up official ticket allocations years ago . But this time it’s worse: politics, security, and fears of enforcement are packing the stands with doubt.

So what gets fans in seats?

Cities are responding pragmatically. Philadelphia and Seattle have begun discounting tickets—some now as low as $25. Organizers are assuring local police will manage stadium security, not federal agents. Governors from affected states are demanding no-collusion agreements between local law enforcement and ICE or CBP . For the 2026 Cup, host‑city committees say they’re negotiating with federal officials “to yield solutions,” aiming to separate immigration enforcement from fan entrance areas.

Still, there’s no sugar‑coating the risk. If fans—from Illinois or Iran—feel they could be detained at a match, neither dynamic pricing nor corporate hospitality will change minds.

“Soccer thrives on inclusion,” said an official working behind the scenes in Miami. “If we lose that, it’s not just ticket sales—it’s reputation.”

The next six months will decide whether this tournament is a wake‑up call or a wake‑up failure—not just for FIFA, but for U.S. policymakers managing borders, justice and global hospitality.

Rollout, national-scale enforcement optics, and an unravelling fan base. The real test won’t come in Seattle or Miami — it’ll arrive in June–July 2026. Then, ticket woes or immigration angst could lead to empty stands, image damage, or even diplomatic friction. This month’s stumble is a warning — fix the fundamentals, fast.