The soccer World Cup is coming to the U.S. (and Canada and Mexico) next year and I have no doubt it’ll be a huge hit.

There’s nothing like the nationalism that flows from every match of sports’ most international event, and I’m certain it will usurp all other events that might occur during its stay here.

The Club World Cup? I’m not so sure.

Paris Saint-Germain and Chelsea will square off Sunday at Met Life Stadium in East Rutherford, New Jersey, for the championship in the first ever World Cup for club teams and not nations.

The reviews of the idea, the teams, and the venues have been mixed. If you grew up with the game, then this is the real football. If you didn’t, then teams like Benfica, Bayern Munich, Real Madrid and Al Hilal would probably not entice you to invest your entertainment dollars to go watch them.

In fact, in some quarters this event is seen as a money grab by soccer’s governing bodies who failed to consider the wear and tear on the players having to play as many as eight more games added to an already tedious schedule. And to play them, in most cases, thousands of miles from home.

For me, soccer is a local sport like baseball. It’s meant to have its rabid fans jamming the local stadium, singing through the game, and having perhaps a beer or twelve. But not to have its hometown teams playing for a title that was just invented, and doing it 5,000 miles away, it’s like the Giants and Yankees playing the World Series in Latvia.

And, as long as we’re on the subject of soccer/football, while doing a little research on this yarn I came to realize that suddenly American athletes and owners have discovered that there could be gold in them thar hills of England and France.

The Glazer Family, which owns the Tampa Bay Buccaneers also owns Manchester United, one of soccer’s premier franchises.

Stan Kroenke, who owns the Rams, also owns another British powerhouse: Arsenal.

And guess what? The York family who own your own San Francisco 49ers, also have a majority share of Leeds United. And NBAers Russell Westbrook, T.J. McConnell, Larry Nance, Jr. and golfers Jordan Spieth and Justin Thomas are also shareholders.

But wait! It doesn’t stop there. LeBron James has a minority ownership in Liverpool; Tom Brady owns a part of Birmingham City; J.J. Watt and his wife Kealia (a former Women’s National Soccer team member) own a piece of Burnley; and former baseball player Dexter Fowler and actor Michael B. Jordan are investors in Bournemouth.

But wait….there’s more… Our own Justin Verlander and his wife, Kate Upton, along with actress Eva Longoria and former NBA star Shawn Marion are owners of Necaxa, a team in the Mexican League. Is it cheap to say that they have more wins than he does?

And finally, a couple of guys of some note in Warrior lore are also invested, or about to be, in that other sport.

Jimmy Butler, because of a close friendship with soccer super-star Neymar, is a part of a consortium that is currently trying to purchase a 43% share of English Premier League team Crystal Palace.

And finally, Kevin Durant has a piece of Paris Saint-Germain, one of the world’s best teams and a finalist in the Club World Cup. Which brings us right back to where we started. Does anybody in the U.S. care about who wins?

OK, I’ll give you Kevin Durant.

A couple of ‘Oh, by the ways’

There’s an old adage in the broadcast business by which you identify the arc of your career. The first part of it portends hope. The middle part involves luck (and a tad of ability). And, the end part, tells you where you’re going.

I’ll personalize this: Part 1) “Who’s Barry Tompkins?” Part 2) “We’ve got to have Barry Tompkins.” Part 3) “Who’s Barry Tompkins?”

Mind you, this does not always apply to the broadcast business. It can also apply to sports stars. And right now, it applies to Aaron Rodgers.

When he came out of Cal and decided it was time to turn pro, the national sentiment was pretty much “Who’s Aaron Rodgers?” That accounts for the fact that on draft day in the green room while hoping he’d be the first name called, he cooled his heels until all that was left in the room were him and a philodendron.

Then he sat on the Green Bay bench watching Brett Favre for a few years until he emerged as the most accurate thrower of the football in the league. “We’ve got to have Aaron Rodgers.”

He thrived, until Green Bay found “the next Aaron Rodgers,” and the original shuffled off to New York only to be kayoed by an Achilles tear in his first game as a Jet. The arm was still there — the legs didn’t come with it. “Who’s Aaron Rodgers?”

Somehow, the Pittsburgh Steelers remembered who he was. And who he thinks he is. The sad truth is, he isn’t. Aaron Rodgers can’t be Aaron Rodgers anymore because his legs need to get him to the spot that his arm can work — and they can’t.

The philodendron won.

And finally…have you noticed that when ESPN or any of the networks promotes an upcoming game it’s never the two teams. It’s always “Stephen Curry and the Golden State Warriors against Jayson Tatum and the Boston Celtics.” Not just the Celtics vs. the Warriors.

I get the whole “star power” thing, but when I heard a promo for the summer hoops league game between the Mavs and the Lakers and it said: “Cooper Flagg vs. Bronny James.” No, I’m sorry. That’s not fair to either Flagg or James.

Cooper Flagg will step into the NBA and be an elite player; Bronny James is a good kid who’s been given bad advice who’s trying to learn on the job. One thrives in the spotlight, the other is better served to not have it on him.

Now that I think about it, I won’t watch it anyway.

Barry Tompkins is a 40-year network television sportscaster and a San Francisco native. Email him at barrytompkins1@gmail.com.