Editor’s note: The following is a satirical article for The DisreGuardian, a series of articles published annually for The Guardian’s April Fool’s issue. Sports will resume publishing normal content next week.
Luis Suárez has been spotted at many of the stadiums that will host the upcoming 2026 FIFA World Cup, beginning on June 11. Curious about why, The UCSD Guardian lured him out for an interview at SoFi Stadium in Los Angeles by hanging a picture of a model wearing an off-the-shoulder top on a fishing pole.
It was hard to get him to speak, but eventually, the retired national soccer player bit the bullet and revealed why he had been lurking around the stadiums.
“This is my first time not playing in the World Cup since 2010,” Suárez explained. “I’m not gonna be there on the field, and I’m getting hungry.”
Suárez has a history of biting opposing players, unable to resist in the heat of the match. He first bit Otman Bakkal in a 2010 match while he was captain of AFC Ajax, earning him the title “Cannibal of Ajax.” Everyone remembers their first bite, and when reminiscing on it three years later, the vampire decided to try his hand at Serbian cuisine, munching on Branislav Ivanovic’s arm next. Post-bite, Suárez scored an equalizing goal before getting slapped with a 10-match ban.
The following year, Giorgio Chiellini was Suárez’s third victim. Before Uruguay’s 1-0 win over Italy, he attacked Chiellini’s shoulder — and bit off more than he could chew. While the Italian sat in awe at the literal bite marks on his shoulder, Suárez held his teeth in pain, right before getting slapped with a four-month ban from all soccer-related activity.
Ever since he moved to MLS, however, Suárez’s itch has gone unscratched because of his dissatisfaction with his American competition — and sometimes even teammates.
“Americans, they taste like canola oil and McDonald’s,” the biter said. “It is disgusting. I bit my teammate on Inter Miami, Jordi Alba. He isn’t even American, but he’s been here long enough to taste the effect of being on an American team.”
Knowing his fame and wealth would protect him from serious consequences, Suarez created a World Cup menu.
He will begin with Argentina’s Ángel Di María. With angular ears and speed that’s easy enough to catch, Di María was an obvious option for Suárez’s big feast. He expects the crispy texture and tangy flavor of an empanada.
“Di María’s been in every World Cup since the dinosaurs,” Suárez said. “He’s like dry aged beef. He’s played for so many clubs that he should come with a passport stamp on the plate.”
Di María is 38 years old, but looks 28, runs like he’s 48, and celebrates like he’s 18, bringing the perfect level of surprise to the cannibal’s tastebuds.
Most Americans should be safe, but Suárez’s plan to attack his prey spares no one. The U.S.’s Christian Pulisic was next on the buffet lineup. He’s quick, but his movements are pretty predictable. “[The World Cup is] set in the U.S., so I need to have some of their food,” Suárez said. “I imagine a barbeque taste from the kid, but I don’t think I’ll go back for seconds.”
Suárez wanted a good Mediterranean meal, but his next target may be harder to catch. Slow cooking since 2006, Croatia’s Luka Modrić is the perfect menu item. An experienced player with marinated flesh, Modrić’s incredible spacial awareness and constant movement will pose a challenge for Suárez. The Croatian — who’s older than Croatia itself — manages to move like a cursed spinning top fueled by Balkan stubbornness, so he’s no easy target. But Suárez is determined to achieve the impossible anyway.
“I imagine Modrić as a rosemary‑marinated gyro,” Suárez said, clearly having thought way too much about this. “He is a gourmet dish that rotates on its own. You orbit him when trying to catch him.”
It’s time for the Uruguayan’s dessert, which is becoming near impossible to catch. Vinícius Júnior of Brazil is Suárez’s next hopeful catch. With a chili-lime flavor, Júnior makes cannibals drool. He’s been heavily seasoned, managing to fight half of La Liga, three referees, and the Spanish press.
But the challenge is his speed. Júnior was already annoying, and his pace only adds to it. He’s young enough to be fast, but old enough to mock you while you try to catch up. In Suárez’s mind, that makes for a complex meal, and he’s excited.
“You try to bite Vini, and he sambas away,” Suárez said. “My shadow can’t even catch him — and it also filed a complaint about him.”
The interview ended abruptly after that because Suárez began zoning out and staring at the interviewer’s shoulder while drooling. But one thing is certain: No one in the World Cup is safe from Suárez’s teeth.
