Morocco fans celebrate Morocco’s 3-0 win over Canada during the second half of a World Cup round of 16 soccer match in Houston, Saturday, July 4, 2026.
Brett Coomer/Houston Chronicle
In this football-loving state, it’s tough for the Texas mind to conceive of a more impossible ticket to get than a spot in one of our giant fall cathedrals for Texas-Texas A&M or Texas-OU.
So, when I plopped into my upper-deck seat in the sixth row of Reliant Stadium’s Section 602 for a little fútbol Saturday, the first thought my Americanized brain could muster was: THIS is what costs double the usual price for my annual spot in the Cotton Bowl on the second Saturday of October?
By the end of my first World Cup experience, I was hugging my new Moroccan friends as we clapped and chanted in unison “Siir, Siir, Siir.”
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To call myself a soccer novice would be like saying Yordan Alvarez simply hits a baseball.
Still, bit by the nasty FOMO bug, I spent $650 for a single ticket to the Morocco-Canada World Cup Round of 16 match despite not being able to name a single player on either squad. A casual? More than sneakers in the office on a Friday.
After getting a tad emotional watching from home as an entire stadium sang “Take Me Home, Country Roads,” and even catching feelings for a Cape Verde team that nearly beat the odds against Argentina and Lionel Messi — now him, I know — the hecklers that reside in my brain declared it would be sports heresy to let a World Cup come and go in our city without experiencing it once as a fan.
So, Saturday morning, I put on the only shirt that could pass for Morocco or Canada red, the classic Jimmy Chitwood Hoosiers shirsey — “My team’s on the floor” — and tried to fit in.
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“You’re from Canada?” my Moroccan seat neighbor asked as I entered a section taken over by jubilant Morocco supporters.
I was aghast that someone who considers brisket to be a healthy breakfast could be mistaken for someone who dabbles in poutine, but a mirror would have shown this Texan more easily could be taken for a Vancouver resident than someone who lives in Marrakesh.
Soon, my seat neighbor, who made the trip from his home in Chicago to support his native country’s team, was my soccer guru.
Whenever Morocco’s opponent is on the attack, Morocco’s fans whistle. A lot. Some would say annoyingly so, but we’re doing all this with an open mind, so whistle away, my fellow soccer enthusiasts. When the tide turns, the fans clap both hands directly above their head and chant “Siir… Siir… Siir” at an increasingly more rapid pace.
“It just means ‘Go… go… go,’ do it with us,” my new friend told me.
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I was bummed when Morocco’s Ismael Saibari had to leave with a hamstring injury, while stopping myself from explaining the complicated relationship between “discomfort” and this city’s baseball team. Then, we all lost our minds as Morocco piled on the goals in the second half.
Most of all, I was struck by something cheesier than the nachos a Morocco fan in our section inadvertently dumped all over his jersey when he bolted from his seat after Azzedine Ounahi scored the first of his two goals: The whole thing was a celebration. Of sports. Of country. Of humans.
When it was over, Morocco fans headed down the Reliant Stadium ramps singing songs of celebration, but also paused to high five and hug their new Canadian friends, who reciprocated with well wishes for the rest of the tournament.
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A large contingent of Morocco fans have gathered outside Reliant Stadium at the corner of Kirby and McNee. Morocco-Canada in the World Cup Round of 16 is just a couple hours away. pic.twitter.com/FQaEQll47c
— Matt Young (@Chron_MattYoung) July 4, 2026
When Texas and Texas A&M are done battling on the field, it’s a race to the car for the fans of the losing side, dodging middle fingers and taunting jeers all the way to a mournful exit. Well wishes? For an Aggie or a Longhorn? Pffffttttt.
There was no disappointed sprint after this one. In fact, there was hardly any rush at all. Morocco fans lingered in the concourse and the ramps still singing the same songs they had been singing when they entered the stadium hours earlier. The faces of some Canadian betrayed their disappointment, but others stopped to take videos of the entire scene to commemorate their once-in-a-lifetime World Cup experience.
It was $650 well-spent, but I certainly would have paid extra for a State Fair Fletcher’s Corny Dog on the way out with my new soccer pals.
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