Have you seen Donald Trump lately? You may have spotted him attempting to spin his “not final” Iran deal as anything other than a total capitulation. Maybe you caught him falling asleep in the Oval Office. You may have seen him talking about how handsome the leaders of India and Egypt are. But lately, most Donald Trump sightings have been at sporting events.
The self-described “sports president” has been everywhere lately—most notably at Game 3 of the Knicks-Spurs series in New York City, where he became the first president to attend an NBA Finals game, and at the slate of UFC fights staged on the White House Lawn. Come July 19, he will be in New Jersey, this time to hand the World Cup Trophy to a victorious U.S. captain Tim Ream. (Or, you know, some other nation’s captain.)
Sports—especially combat sports and football—have always been important to Trump’s political project, never more so in this second term. It’s an area that’s meant to show the president the way he likes to be seen: not just an avatar for the nation—he’s just another one of those regular joes that support him—but as a culturally dominant force. Trump is inescapable. He pops up even in places presidents haven’t before (like the NBA Finals). At the same time, those appearances are also often carefully choreographed to show him receiving maximum adulation. Hence all the MMA bouts and Army-Navy games.
There’s just one problem: Trump has lost his fastball. Those ordinary people taking in a game? They hate him now, thanks to a destructive political agenda and the ongoing economic fallout from his global trade war and the war in Iran. Far from showcasing Trump at his peak, over the last week—and likely in the forthcoming World Cup final—we’ve seen a weakened leader who is not just losing his grip on power but on the culture, as well.
Let’s take stock of Trump’s most recent forays into sports. Last Monday, he attended the NBA Finals. There, he was greeted with a cannonade of boos, undeniably killed the vibe—and subjected the New York Knicks to their only loss since April. On Wednesday—with the atmosphere cleansed by some sage-sporting Gothamites and a halftime performance by the Wu-Tang Clan, the Knicks completed the biggest comeback in NBA Finals history—something that didn’t seem possible with the president in the building. On Saturday, they won their first title since 1973 and New York City exploded with joy: Hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of people took to the streets to cheer and embrace one another.
Trump tried to stage his own version of that triumph on Sunday, at a lavish 80th birthday celebration put on by the UFC. The event took place in a massive, garish cage on the White House lawn, with 4,000 business and political elites looking on—the real fans had to watch from far outside the security perimeter set up around the building. The event was a disaster in most respects. Marred by rain delays and a lack of marquee fights, it was a bit of a dud, an event mostly memorable for one fighter lobbing a transphobic slur at former first lady Michelle Obama.
It was a stark contrast with the real party in his hometown a night before. And the good vibes have only continued since then, as dozens of U.S. cities have welcomed tens of thousands of visitors from all over the globe to attend the 2026 World Cup.
American soccer fans have shown up with open arms and sportsmanship. In Lawrence, Kansas, fans have embraced the Algerian team with cries of “Rock Chalk Algeria”—a variant on a cheer for the University of Kansas’s basketball team—and a University of Kansas marching band that learned the nation’s national anthem (which, frankly, goes hard). In Boston and Rhode Island, residents have welcomed (and shared pints) with Scottish fans (the word on the street is that Boston bars have been drained of beer). In New York, fans of Senegal, Morocco, and Brazil have all been embraced by the locals. The World Cup: It’s fun, and Americans like hosting it! Whether in Dallas or Los Angeles or Kansas City, Americans genuinely like having people from around the world visit, and they’re showing them a good time. It’s a refutation of Trump’s entire political program.
It all goes to show that the idea that Trump is somehow the “sports president” is wrong at the core. Game 3 at the Garden showed it: No one can really have fun with him around. He looked genuinely bored at the game and was accused of falling asleep. More broadly, the cultural influence that seemed to be bending in his direction in November 2024, when the “Trump dance” was inescapable at college football and U.S. Men’s National Team soccer games has been obliterated. He tried to be a part of the greatest moment in New York City sports history and nearly blew it for everyone—his mood-killing influence will be part of Knicks lore forever. His UFC party was a disaster. Next month, he will try—and fail—to ruin a World Cup that he has done everything to blemish but has not quite destroyed. When he bestows the trophy on the winner, he will be booed. But the booing will stop, and people will return to doing what they were doing before he slouched onto the scene—having themselves a pretty good time.
