This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Fareed Kotb. It has been edited for length and clarity.

After covering two World Cups in Russia and Qatar, I wanted my third to stand apart from the rest.

I hoped to link the event back to the very first tournament in 1930, almost a century earlier, so I chose to shoot the matches using a camera built in 1930.

I bought a 1930s camera in Cairo

Cairo has a lively market for vintage cameras. After reviewing four options, I selected a Zeiss Ikon Ideal 250/11 that I discovered inside a large box.

Research into the serial number revealed that its previous owner had photographed players ahead of the 1954 World Cup and Egyptian athletes before the 1936 Berlin Olympics.

In the months before the 2026 World Cup, I devoted many hours to mastering the camera. I practiced loading film, adjusting focus, setting exposure, and shooting test images. I studied old manuals and explored the device's past, an effort that felt much like preparing for exams.

Feeling fully at ease with the equipment before the tournament mattered greatly to me.

Unlike digital cameras that offer endless attempts, this model demands patience. Every step moves more slowly, so I mapped out my positions and target moments in advance, knowing each frame counted.

Digital shooting lets me fire quickly and review results instantly. With the 1930 camera, however, I limited myself to roughly 20 exposures per match. At one recent World Cup game I had taken 5,000 digital shots.

I had to rely on experience alone and wait for the film to be processed before seeing the images.

I was denied permission to shoot the World Cup final

Traveling to Canada filled me with excitement about using the camera. Upon arrival, fans, photographers, and volunteers reacted with surprise and amusement at the sight of such an antique device.

Stepping onto the pitch in Canada with a camera nearly 100 years old ranked among the tournament's highlights for me. Every exposure would bridge past and present, a connection I found deeply meaningful.

I covered two matches: Portugal versus Croatia in Toronto and Colombia versus Switzerland in Vancouver.

Although I had hoped to photograph the final in the United States, my requests were turned down four times, a disappointing outcome.

For the games I did attend, I considered how the camera's earlier owner might have approached each scene, choosing angles and timing with care.

My movements stayed deliberate, and my eyes scanned constantly for the right instant to release the shutter.

Now back in Egypt, I plan to develop the film on Sunday. The wait feels like the hours before the birth of a first child. Sleep is difficult, and questions keep arising. Will the photographs succeed?

I am eager to view the results, as are the many followers who learned of the project online.

After sharing details about the camera on social media, I awoke to numerous messages from people curious about the outcome and intrigued by this blend of old and new techniques at the 2026 tournament.

For now, we simply wait.