What if…?

What if everything is political? Yes, even football. Especially football.
That’s why it felt hard to go out and cheer, to celebrate a goal without hesitation. Even now, I find it difficult to put into words everything this past month has meant while Mexico hosted the World Cup. They say football is the most important of the least important things.

So, just this once, let’s focus on the game itself. Let’s look at football as a reflection of the world around us, because it would be impossible to ignore that FIFA has long been associated with corruption, just as so much of what we experience in our own countries every day. This tournament became a mirror. As long as the game goes on, as long as the ball keeps rolling, millions of people —the fans of the world's most beloved sport— stop looking at what happens behind the scenes.

One match is enough to make us believe again. Enough to imagine our national team making it further than ever before. Enough to make us feel, even if only for ninety minutes, that this is the only thing that matters. Enough to believe, if only briefly, that fairness is possible.
For almost a month, everything else seemed to fade into the background. Every goal, every victory became a reminder of how easily people can come together when they're given a reason that's simple, exciting, and easy to celebrate.

But it wasn't all negative.
This is where photography comes in. Just like light, every story is made of contrast. And this World Cup, here in Mexico, carried some heavy ones: deaths, countless incidents, people drunk in the streets, violence, celebrations that drowned out those demanding justice, an event that consumed nearly the country's entire attention. And beyond all of that, a government that, much like FIFA, continues to feel deeply unequal and corrupt.
Still, there was a light I couldn't ignore. That became the reason I picked up my camera. Watching people come together, no matter which city they were in, felt like something many of us will remember for years. Children, older adults, teenagers, people from every social background, groups of friends, street vendors finding endless ways to make a living by selling jerseys, foam spray, corn, snacks, and flags in every size imaginable. All of them together. Cheering. Making memories. Believing that maybe this time things could be different. Maybe it wasn't even about making it past another round. Maybe it was about believing that, for once, we could go further. Believing in something bigger than the realities we live with every day, inside a system that so often feels impossible to overcome.
That's what I kept seeing, both through the camera and with my own eyes.
Faith. A shared belief that maybe it was possible. Even after so many disappointments, people were still asking themselves the same question: What if this time we actually could?

And what happens when we can't?
After Mexico was eliminated, many people went back into the streets to... celebrate? (A lot of these photographs were taken after we lost to England in Matchday 4.) For some, it became another excuse to drink, break things, or chase that same collective rush one last time.
Others lost that hope again. They blamed the manager, the players, FIFA, everyone. They returned to the disappointment of facing a reality where it still didn't happen.
Even so, I don't think anyone who lived through the summer of 2026 in Mexico will forget it.

This gallery is my way of sharing what I saw. I know there's much more to say about everything surrounding this World Cup, and those conversations will continue long after the final whistle. Thankfully, there are incredibly talented people documenting these stories, writing about them, and bringing attention to issues like the exploitation of artisans producing Adidas jerseys, the work and mistreatment of Mexico's searching mothers, the unfair treatment of teams like Iran, and so many other stories that deserve to be seen.

This is simply the part I witnessed.