Iran’s national soccer team has made its 2026 World Cup debut amid a tumultuous backdrop: an abrupt and tentative ceasefire after months of war, an extraordinary set-up in Mexico after the US prevented the team from residing in-country between matches, and political uncertainty that has now expanded to the international stage.
But for many Iranians, professional sports have always sat at an intersection between athleticism, identity, and politics. From sporting defections and political activism to moments of immense national sporting pride, the trajectory of Iranian sports underscores what’s at stake this World Cup. The Iranian team, on Tuesday morning, drew 2-2 in their debut against New Zealand and will next face Belgium and Egypt, traveling to and from Mexico in between.
“I think it’s not fair,” says Iranian athlete Hadi Tiranvalipour about Iran’s team flying from Mexico to the US ahead of each match, although he’s not paying much attention to the World Cup this year.
Tiranvalipour, like several prominent Iranian athletes, knows the dichotomy of pursuing his sporting dreams amid the backdrop of the nation he once represented. In fact, he left everything behind in 2022: his family, friends, an entire life in Iran, crossing into Turkey, before seeking asylum in Italy. The taekwondo athlete and TV presenter had spent eight years on the Iranian national team and even became its captain, winning countless national and international accolades while representing his country.
But after speaking out about the rights of the Iranian people, especially women and girls, on TV, everything changed. What followed, Tiranvalipour says, was a swift backlash: “After the program, they closed everything for me, and they closed my career in sports, they closed my education.”
“I decided to leave all the medals and all the memories I created in my life,” he tells WIRED Middle East about leaving Iran, though that was far from the end of his sporting journey.
Sports have always been a major part of Iranian society and often a point of convergence between identity and politics.
But the experience of being an athlete in Iran, and what the role represents in the international arena, isn’t always straightforward. There have been moments of deep pride—when Iranian footballers gave white roses to their US opponents ahead of the 1998 World Cup, for instance. But there have also been a number of high-profile defections and sporting tensions, such as Iran’s only female Olympic medallist, Kimia Alizadeh, leaving the country in 2020.
As for Tiranvalipour, he had little choice but to pursue his dreams elsewhere, in what he describes as a “difficult” refugee journey amid periods of great uncertainty. “I didn’t have any other solution, because I wanted to keep going about my targets,” he says. “Unfortunately, in Iran, sport is so complicated.” Two years after he left, Tiranvalipour would achieve his dreams, representing the Refugee Olympic Team with Italy’s backing while competing in taekwondo at the 2024 Paris Olympics.
