In Havana, the ongoing economic hardships faced by Cuba have cast a long shadow over daily life, but the FIFA World Cup has offered a temporary reprieve for many residents. The tournament’s delayed broadcast on state television, coming two days after the opening matches held in nearby Mexico, provided a rare moment of collective distraction amidst the island’s deepening crisis.

Cuba, grappling with its most severe economic downturn in over a generation—exacerbated by a U.S.-imposed oil embargo—has seen widespread fuel shortages that have grounded much of its public and private transportation. Many citizens endure frequent power outages, making it difficult to follow live sporting events or undertake everyday activities. The World Cup, however, has become a welcome focal point for a population largely unfamiliar with international football, a sport whose popularity has surged particularly among younger Cubans since smartphones became common in 2018.

At a small café in Centro Habana, a working-class neighborhood marked by aging infrastructure, locals gathered around a small television screen to watch the match between Morocco and Brazil. For some, like Ismael Veranes, the human resources director of Cuba’s national theater, the event was a brief escape from long days spent commuting on foot in the stifling summer heat due to the scarcity of fuel. “When you get home, exhausted, there’s no electricity,” he said, describing living conditions made worse by the persistent power cuts.

Children, too, are showing a growing affinity for the sport. On a street corner nearby, siblings practiced ball control using a bottle top, watched over by a mural of revolutionary icon Che Guevara. Their father noted that while baseball had long been Cuba’s dominant sport, football has become increasingly popular since the island’s greater connectivity to global media. The World Cup, he said, helps “clear our minds for a while,” despite the deteriorated state of local playing fields.

Yet the access to the tournament’s full coverage remains uneven. Unlike previous World Cups when games were universally broadcast on state channels, this year only a limited number of matches are shown, with many available only in bars equipped with cable television and selling expensive foreign beers. For ordinary Cubans without such means, following the tournament often means watching from sidewalks or crowded public spaces, underscoring the growing divide within society.

In Havana’s more affluent Vedado district, watch parties offered a contrasting scene, with supporters enjoying the matches in cultural centers and private establishments. There, decorated with Brazil flags and tournament banners, fans clad in the jerseys of players like Vinicius Junior and Neymar could afford pints of beer and reliable television signals, even if intermittent freezing of the broadcast reminded them that the crisis touches all strata of life.

For many, including young biologist Victor Diaz, the World Cup represents more than sport. It offers a momentary lightening of the burdens imposed by daily economic struggles. “Having something to lighten all the burdens that we’re dealing with day by day is incredible,” he said, encapsulating the hope this global event has briefly rekindled across the island.