Which America?

The 2026 World Cup games have produced a slew of reaction videos by Europeans and others about the beauty and bounty of America. Many have been overwhelmed by the largesse they see. That largesse has to do with the food, the people, and a culture they find as ambitious and expansive as the continent itself. From the “Tartan Army” of Scots in Boston drinking the city dry of beer and invading a Red Sox game, to Japanese fans amazed by how everything is “so big,” these fans have fallen in love with America in the space of just a few weeks. Actually, I think that’s great. I love America, too.

But then I have to ask, which America?

Apparently, they came here expecting a Mad Max movie: street crime, homelessness, gun violence—all the negative stereotypes that a legacy media with a particular axe to grind would emphasize. It’s not that those problems don’t exist, of course, but there’s more to the story than that. A common theme among these soccer tourists is that they have been lied to about America.

In one video, a French woman extolled the openness she found in America and how she felt free to breathe, not having to worry about legal restrictions on speech or cultural expectations about how to act. This, coming from a French citizen. Of all the people you’d expect to be less concerned about conformity, it would be the French. Not so lately. France has been wrestling with its own identity crisis, one that has trickled down from the top. Wasn’t it Emmanuel Macron who argued that there is no single “French culture,” but rather a collection of cultures in France? This calls to mind King Charles as Defender of the faiths rather than the faith.

Examples of largesse in these videos almost always start with food. First-time visitors to America can’t get over the size of the portions, the endless refills, and big-box retailers the size of space shuttle hangars. Buc-ee’s usually gets cited as an example, along with Walmart, Costco, and Target. The French pronounce the latter the way my aunt said “Jacques C’est Penee” when referring to JCPenney. It was working-class wit.

Then there’s ranch dressing. I kid you not. I never stopped to think about ranch dressing. I’m sure most Americans haven’t, either. Why would you? It would be like a fish thinking about water. And that’s where the disconnect lies. While foreign visitors are obsessed with ranch and stuff their luggage with bottles of it, we take it for granted. We laugh, even, at the woman caught drinking it straight from the bottle. That’s a bit much, if you ask me.

But there is more to the largesse beyond our twelve-inch dinner plates and expanding waistlines. According to these same visitors, we have an abundance of personality. While our cuisine is larger than life and our geography incredibly diverse, spanning six time zones, we have a cultural psyche to match. We are an entrepreneurial people, a society accustomed to risk and failure as a way to success. This is based on a substratum of confidence as hard as the Manhattan granite the skyscrapers were built on. De Tocqueville noted this long before those skyscrapers ever appeared.

American pragmatism doesn’t ask itself if it can do a thing; it asks what is required and how long it will take. Then it allocates resources and plans accordingly. This isn’t collective delusion but self-reliance that is still praised by some while derided by others. But those others aren’t the soccer fans who have come to our shores en masse, anticipating a soccer game but leaving with so much more. They believe in the American spirit even as we have come to doubt it ourselves at times.

So, I would like to suggest another America, one that isn’t loud, boisterous, or indifferent. It is a worldview that reflects a quiet confidence, one that doesn’t have to be obnoxious. One that believes in itself and acts with the skill that leads to success. It is the confidence of someone who doesn’t have to prove anything, because he knows his value. More than the cowboy archetype, it is the archetype of the quiet American.

I believe this is what appeals to these visitors: an attitude that life may be hard but will provide an opportunity for flourishing. That each of us deserves an opportunity, and that having an opportunity makes all the difference. It is this American soil that tells us all things are possible, even to this day.

Images: John Bakator, César Hernández, John Warg, Mick Haupt. Want more? Go to Robert Brancatelli. The Brancatelli Blog is a member of The Free Media Alliance, which promotes “alternatives to software, culture, and hardware monopolies.” Happy 250th birthday to our Declaration of Independence!