Early signs suggest that match-going and merchandise-buying fans may indeed face higher costs. Take the humble replica jersey, a staple purchase for millions of supporters each year. Most official jerseys of major clubs are manufactured in countries like Vietnam, China, or Bangladesh. Under Trump’s tariffs, a shipment of sports apparel from Vietnam to the U.S. would be slapped with a 46% import tax. Even shipments from European brands to the U.S. face around 20% tariffs. While companies might not pass the full cost to consumers, even a partial pass-through could add $10, $20, $30 or more to the retail price of a jersey. “Jerseys, equipment, and official merchandise may all become more expensive”, one report notes, depending on how much of the burden manufacturers and clubs are willing to absorb. Fans in America could see the price tags in club shops creep upward; fans abroad might similarly pay more for gear imported from the U.S. or other affected countries.
Indeed, club officials are candid that they might have to transfer some costs to supporters. “If suppliers raise prices, we might need to...pass those costs to fans,” said Deportivo’s Dinis, adding quickly that “that’s not ideal” but it’s a real possibility. European clubs, for now, appear hesitant to jack up prices immediately, likely to avoid backlash. But as new inventory comes in at higher wholesale prices, season 2025/26’s merchandise could tell a different story.
Beyond jerseys, consider other fan expenses. Electronics are another example: many fans buy new TVs or streaming devices ahead of big tournaments. With tariffs hitting a range of consumer electronics (especially from China, which faced U.S. duties exceeding 50% on many goods), the cost of that big 4K TV to watch the World Cup might be noticeably higher. Even the price of footballs and cleats could inch up if they’re imported. For instance, a high-end ball made in Pakistan or China could be subject to the blanket 10% tariff on sports goods – a cost likely passed on in sporting goods stores.
Ticket prices could also feel indirect pressure. While tickets are not imported goods, if clubs and event organisers find their costs soaring (for venue operations, utilities, imported services, etc.), they may eventually adjust ticket pricing to compensate. A club facing higher expenses might reason that a small ticket price increase spreads the burden across its fanbase. This is speculative, but not unprecedented – teams often cite rising “operating costs” when raising ticket prices, and tariffs could become one more such cost factor. Fans attending the 2026 World Cup in North America might discover that everything from match tickets to hotel rooms is a bit pricier than expected, partially due to the inflationary effect of trade restrictions.
Then there’s the fan travel experience. True, traveling to a match isn’t directly subject to a tariff, but in a broader sense, a trade war can dampen economic growth and weaken currencies. If the U.S. dollar strengthens sharply against, say, the euro due to these policies, European fans coming to the U.S. will find their trip more expensive in local terms (though American fans traveling abroad could benefit from a stronger dollar). On the other hand, if global oil prices shift or airlines face higher equipment costs, airfare can be affected. And for cross-border events like the2026 World Cup (U.S., Canada, Mexico), any heightened border security or political friction might make the logistics of following one’s team more daunting – we’ll delve more into that in the World Cup section tomorrow.
We should note that not all fans are uniformly alarmed. Many are in “wait and see” mode, much like the clubs. A Cluster17 survey in Spain found about 70% of Spaniards are concerned about the potential impact of U.S. tariffs on their national companies. This suggests a solid majority of the public (which includes plenty of football fans) is worried at least in the abstract. That concern could translate to more cautious spending – maybe holding off on buying that new jersey or delaying a trip to see a game abroad until the economic picture is clearer. Fans, like businesses, can hedge their bets.
On the flip side, true die-hard supporters often find a way to keep cheering in good times or bad. Football has endured world wars, recessions, and pandemics; compared to those, a tariff tiff might seem survivable. As one long time fan quipped on social media, “I’ll cut back elsewhere, but I’m not missing derby day.” Still, if the cost of fandom rises noticeably, it could test the limits of what some are willing (or able) to pay. Will a family in Chicago buy three new jerseys this year if each one costs an extra $30? Will a group of friends from Mexico drive to matches in the U.S. if gas and fees at the border make it a hassle? These small decisions, multiplied across millions of fans, could have a cumulative effect on the sport’s global reach and revenues.
In essence, fans may indeed feel the pinch of Trump’s tariffs, albeit indirectly. The beautiful game might get a bit more expensive to enjoy. Club shops, merchandisers, and even broadcasters (if rights deals lead to higher cable package prices) could all pass on some of their higher costs. Supporters should be vigilant – and perhaps budget accordingly for the next season’s expenses. The silver lining? If the trade war is resolved or if companies find creative ways to cut costs, these price hikes might be temporary. Just as a team adjusts tactics mid-game, businesses can adjust to new trade rules over time, potentially finding new suppliers or efficiencies. Fans everywhere will be hoping that, sooner rather than later, the only things going up are the score lines – not the prices.
