Football’s greatest trick isn’t played out on the pitch; it’s hidden within the ticking of the clock. As the countdown to the 2026 World Cup begins, that strange sense of “time-warp” we first felt 24 years ago is stirring once again. Admitting that I remember the 2002 World Cup and that nearly a quarter of a century has passed since is a bit of a shock to the system. Yet, it remains that one unforgettable summer; a season whose flavour still lingers on the palate.
2002: The Breakfast Cup and the 14-Inch Telly
For the first time in history, the tournament headed to Asia, co-hosted by South Korea and Japan. In Turkey, it wasn’t just a tournament; it was a collective ritual. The time difference between the Far East and Europe had dragged football into the most unexpected corners of our lives: onto breakfast tables and into school classrooms.
I was thirteen years old. It was the tail end of the school year, and the looming shadow of report cards had been completely eclipsed by the roar of the crowd. I vividly remember our form teacher who clearly loved us (and the game) lugging a tiny 14-inch portable telly into the classroom. We huddled around it, battling with the aerial to fix the grainy picture just in time for the Brazil and China matches. When we scored, the entire school building would literally shake. As Brazil lifted their fifth trophy, Turkey finished third, sealing not just a historic achievement, but the greatest hero’s quest of our childhood. Every teenager’s wall was adorned with posters of Ilhan Mansız, his iconic hair, and that legendary “rainbow flick” over Roberto Carlos.
London: Lager for Breakfast
These unorthodox hours triggered bizarre reactions globally. Here in London, imagine the uykulu (sleepy) but wide-eyed crowds gathering outside pub doors before the sun had even fully cleared the horizon.
Rather than declaring a national crisis, the British government found a brilliant “national solution”: pulling licensing hours forward to 7:30 am. It was the era when football met the fry-up; when lager first shook hands with cornflakes. Seeing thousands of suits in the City huddled in a pub, nursing a pint while waiting for a Beckham penalty before heading to the office, was the ultimate proof of how football can bend time itself.
2026: History Repeats (In Reverse)
Now, it is 2026. As the ball starts rolling across the vast landscapes of the USA, Canada, and Mexico, that infamous “Time Monster” is back on centre stage. But this time, there is a twist: in 2002 we were early birds; in 2026, we are the night watch. The crowds that once flocked to pubs at dawn are now looking to merge night into morning, with venues staying open until 2 am. The Home Office’s decision to extend pub opening hours is, in reality, the 24-year-old echo of those 2002 breakfast visas.
An Endurance Test: June 25th
The most critical date on the calendar is already circled: June 25th. Turkey vs. USA kicks off at 3:00 am British Summer Time. This is the ultimate biological trap; too late to stay up for, yet too early to wake up for. The flicker of TV screens through London windows won’t be greeting the early risers this time; they will be the beacons of the “dawn patrol.”
In 2002, when asked “What would you like for breakfast?”, the answer was a defiant “Three points and a cold lager.” In 2026, the question is slightly tougher: “Are you going to work tomorrow, or are you watching the match?”
We all know the answer. Because football doesn’t have a schedule; it only has moments that last forever.