FIFA Darlings: the World Cup's brand building machine

Long before the final, the internet had already chosen its favorites. Algorithms were filled with improbable heroes, memes, and behind-the-scenes photos. My favorite narrative was another: the new FIFA darlings carrying Hermès Birkins.

The World Cup is not just the biggest showcase for football. It is the most powerful brand building machine on the planet.

For a month, billions of people look towards the same place. Never has there been so much concentrated attention at the same time. And when that happens, someone unknown on a Monday can become a global icon on Friday.

Attention, however, is not equally distributed. If you are lucky enough to face football royalty —Spain or Argentina— you are not just playing against a powerhouse. You inherit their audience.

Millions connected to watch Lamine Yamal and Messi.

And they left talking about Vozinha… and wondering where Cape Verde was.

That is the strange alchemy of the internet. A great performance not only turns a player into a star. It turns everything around him into a brand.

In a matter of days, Vozinha went from unknown to global phenomenon. His Instagram followers skyrocketed and various media are already linking him to new opportunities in Miami. But he was not the only winner.

The tournament also marked the big moment for Capelli Sport, the brand that dresses the Cape Verde national team. There is a branding lesson hidden in plain sight. Small brands can take risks that large ones rarely allow themselves. Capelli did not try to compete with Adidas or chase Brazil. It bet on Cape Verde. And, suddenly, it became part of the conversation.

Small brands can take risks that large ones rarely allow themselves.

But the real winner was not Capelli. Not even Vozinha. It was Cape Verde.

Millions of people who had never heard of the archipelago opened their chat and asked: "Where is Cape Verde?"

Almost overnight, Cape Verde went from being a somewhat known place to becoming a destination that aroused curiosity. TikTok did the rest. No tourism office could have bought such a level of exposure. The great tournament of a single goalkeeper opened opportunities not only for him, but also for an entire country.

Cape Verde went from being a somewhat known place to becoming a destination that aroused curiosity.

While watching all this, I couldn't stop thinking about one of my obsessions: brand equity. That emotional value we associate with a name.

At a time when anti-immigration discourse is gaining strength in so many democracies, the World Cup invites us, almost without realizing it, to do just the opposite. We stop seeing countries as abstractions. We cheer for people whose language we don't speak. We learn their anthems and customs. We discover places we had never imagined visiting. Football reminds us that strangers are not so strange after all.

My second FIFA darling couldn't be more different.

If Vozinha is the fairy tale, Erling Haaland is the internet's boyfriend.

In a matter of days, my feed became a carousel of Haaland dressed in Loewe one day, meditating the next, and celebrating a Viking ritual afterward. A sequence that achieved exactly what any brand dreams of: conquering the internet.

Football reminds us that strangers are not so strange after all.

The memes wrote themselves.

And, naturally, brands wanted to join the conversation.

Within hours, Marriott, Treatwell, British Airways, or Norwegian found a way to join the conversation. Because that's what happens when someone becomes the internet's boyfriend. Cultural conversation always moves faster than any communication plan.

The smartest brands don't interrupt the moment. They join it.

Every viral Haaland video is also selling Norway.

The World Cup not only creates sports heroes. It creates cultural capital that everyone—from luxury brands to governments—wants to make their own.

But beneath all those memes, there's something even more interesting. Every viral Haaland video is also selling Norway.

The Viking celebrations. The fjords. The Nordic humor. That Scandinavian elegance that never seems to try too hard. Haaland is not just building a personal brand. He is exporting a country brand.

That's the magic of a FIFA darling.

It doesn't just make us fall in love with the player—or, in Lamine's case, also with his little brother….

It makes us want to discover the place he comes from. Because, in the end, every World Cup has two competitions. The one played for the trophy.

And the one played for our hearts.