Radio, Imagery, and Coffee: The 2026 World Cup Without TV

Amidst the bustling public screenings of the 2026 World Cup on big screens, there's a group of people who actually turn off their TVs. They "watch" through the radio, a cup of coffee, and imagination. It's called "debar".

In Indonesia, when the World Cup arrives, all eyes turn to the screen. Coffee shops, cafes, street food stalls, restaurants, hotels, even malls—all set up big screens. "Nobar" (public screening) banners are everywhere.

But have we ever asked ourselves: what does it feel like to witness the quadrennial football fiesta without watching it at all?

For most of us who can see, the answer is surely: bland. Like vegetables without salt. Incomplete.

Turns out, not for everyone.

For our visually impaired friends, football has long been "watched" in a different way—with their ears and imagination. They never rely on screens. It's actually us who panic when the TV signal dies.

During the 2026 World Cup, from June to July 2026, radio once again becomes a loyal companion. And just like us, a warm cup of coffee is also their essential ritual for staying up late.

The term is simple: "debar". It stands for "Dengar Bareng" (Listen Together).

Why "Debar" on RRI Feels Different

In the visually impaired community, the atmosphere of "debar" is just as lively as "nobar". The difference is, the cheers here are born from narration. There are no chants shouted at a screen. Instead, there's laughter, tactical debates, and a synchronized "gooool" shout coming from small speakers.

Do all radio stations do this? The answer is no.

The only one consistently bringing to life the imagination of millions of listeners is the Public Broadcasting Institution, RRI.

The concept is simple yet ingenious: evoking the green field in the listeners' minds through the voice of the announcer who becomes our "eyes".

This is where the imagination works. The announcer watches the screen directly, then translates it. Two teams compete. The referee runs, leading the match. The roar of the crowd, the pounding of drums, even the sigh of disappointment when an opportunity fails—all of it is crafted into words, then delivered to our ears.

I experienced it myself. Through the analog radio on my small mobile phone. My favorite frequency: RRI Pro 3, broadcasting live. That night, the Three Lions, England, were playing.

I sat in my room. The lights were dim. On the table was a glass of black coffee I had intentionally brewed before kick-off. If the match was in the morning, I'd turn up the volume a bit. My mother in the living room already knew. "Listening to football again, are you?" she'd say.

It's complete. Radio, coffee, and imagination. The trio that makes the 2026 World Cup enjoyable even without a single screen.

"Debar" Is Not Just for the Visually Impaired

We might think "debar" is only for our visually impaired friends. Turns out, it's not.

Many sighted friends also intentionally choose "debar". The reasons vary. Some are tired of the noisy "nobar" cheers. Some miss the old-school radio vibe. Others are simply curious: what does it feel like to let your own mind bring the match to life?

And honestly, it really does feel different.

In "nobar", we are fed images. In "debar", we are invited to work. Our minds draw the grass, the goal, even the players' expressions. We decide whether the ball soars high or rolls slowly to the striker's feet.

All of this is thanks to the RRI announcers. They are not just commentators; they are painters. With their voices, they paint 22 players on the green field, then hand them over to our imagination.

Because of this, "debar" has its own unique vibe. No one is busy taking selfies. No one is shouting "change the channel". Everyone focuses on one voice, from the opening whistle to the final whistle.

After a champion emerges, the World Cup will be over. The big screens will be taken down. The "nobar" crowds will disappear.

But hopefully, "debar" won't end with it.

Because from RRI, we learn one important thing: to enjoy football, we don't need perfect eyes. We just need to be willing to listen.

And perhaps, the most beautiful goal doesn't have to be seen. It's enough to hear it. Then feel it.