Pubs and televised football tournaments go together like beer and crisps. But who will you be jostling for the best view of the big screen? Here’s our spotter’s guide to the 11-strong dream team of archetypes you’ll meet down your local during World Cup 2026. Warning: if there’s one you don’t recognise, it’s probably you. Now hurry up, kick-off is looming and it’s your round…
1. The proud patriot
This footballing flag-shagger will sport the same “lucky” England shirt for five weeks, raising concerns about his personal hygiene. He’ll belt out the national anthem with deranged fervour, spitting Greggs crumbs everywhere, and stick World In Motion or Three Lions on the jukebox at any opportunity. He’ll get progressively more sunburnt until he resembles a Reform-voting beetroot. If and when Team Thomas Tuchel get knocked out, expect puce-faced rage and a punched fruit machine.
2. The smug statto
Whatever you do, don’t get cornered by the nerdy know-it-all leaning on the bar. Express a passing interest in football and he’ll start reciting Opta stats, xG numbers, passing accuracy ratios and other nuggets learnt from in-depth podcasts or YouTube analysts. This tedious anorak is desperate to inflict his expertise on anyone who’ll listen. He’s convinced he could do a better job than most national team coaches, despite his only managerial experience being shouting at the under-nines on Hackney Marshes.
3. The pesky pint-flinger
He somehow took a wrong turn en route to Boxpark Croydon and is determined to make a night of it. When England or Scotland score, expect windmilling limbs and a plastic cup flying through the air in slo-mo, spraying soapy pale ale over anyone in the vicinity. This over-excited man-baby is like a glitter cannon filled with stale beer. For bonus antisocial points, he’ll loudly film his own celebrations for social media “bantz”.
4. The confused couple
They went out for “date night” and are wondering why the romantic ambience is being ruined by boozy hordes bellowing at washed-out projector screens. They’ll bravely stick it out until one partner’s eyes keep being irresistibly drawn to the sporting action, resulting in a row about how they “never listen”. They’ll sheepishly leave the pub to go for a tense dinner-à-deux and surreptitiously check their phone for score updates, risking more ructions.
5. The contrary hipster
Supporting the home nations is way too basic for this cooler-than-thou purist. He’ll take perverse pride in eschewing headline fixtures for the niche charms of Uzbekistan vs DR Congo. Retro kits, managerial mavericks and mercurial playmakers are catnip to this trendy try-hard. Like a vinyl junkie, he favours obscure deep cuts. He speaks chin-strokingly about Japan’s defence and Senegal’s counter-attack. He fancies dark horses like Ecuador and Morocco, rolling his eyes at obvious choices like Spain or Brazil. Don’t be so lamestream, yeah?
6. The soccer Scrooge
It happens for one month every four years and brings happiness to billions worldwide. That cuts no ice with this soccer spoilsport, who resents the imposition of communal fun on his miserable routine. He’ll tut at crowds rammed around the bar. He’ll complain about venues “going ticketed” for big matches. He’ll ask staff to turn down the TV volume. Other pubs are available, pal. So is staying at home and whinging at the walls.
7. The token foreigner
Everyone in the pub is cheering on the same side, except a solitary outlier from overseas. Sure, he’s outnumbered but he wants to be where the atmosphere is. If his team lose, he’ll get consoling back-pats and over-refreshed hugs. If his team spring a surprise win, he needs to beat a hasty retreat before he’s torn limb-from-limb in the beer garden.
8. The Johnny-come-lately
“Are Arsenal playing? Which one’s Beckham?” He only watches football every other summer to support England in major tournaments, so this arriviste can’t be expected to understand all the nuances. He gets more excited by the office sweepstake than the match itself, spending most of it scrolling on his phone. He might feign extra interest by claiming distant family heritage that grants him allegiance to a second team. Sure, mon ami, you’re one-16th French on your mum’s side.
9. The kamikaze casualty
World Cups are a perfect excuse for sport-adjacent debauchery but when it’s broadcast mainly in the wee small hours, there’s potential for pub fans to go fully feral. Determined to “push through” until the 3am kick-off, this bucket-hatted hedonist gets bang on the beer and gear. He’ll peak too early and be asleep/ejected/vomiting by closing time. A prime candidate for sticking a lit firework up his backside and being sacked when his employer sees the clip online. Awkward.
10. The woke refusenik
They boycotted Qatar 2022 and now they’re doing the same for USA 2026. Reasons? Take your pick from Trump’s regime, travel bans, ICE, illegal wars, human rights, FIFA corruption, price gouging... Sure, they happen to be in the pub but they’re ostentatiously refusing to watch the match, shooting disapproving looks at those who are. Well done, Che Guevara, that’ll definitely change the world.
11. The shouty stranger
Nobody know who he is or where he came from but no televised game is complete without a high-volume rando getting a tad too intense. He’ll yell “Come on!” several times per minute, occasionally alternating it with exhortations to “Go wide!”, “Cross it” or “Finish!” His eyes never leave the screen, so he won’t realise that fellow punters are glancing at him nervously and edging away.
