In the eyes of Natalia Molina and third-generation Mexican American, the most memorable highlight of the World Series didn't happen during the tense final game last Saturday, when her team pulled off multiple death-defying comeback act after another before prevailing in extra innings against the opposing team.
It came in the previous game, when two second-tier players, Kike Hernández and the Venezuelan infielder, executed a electrifying, game-winning play that at the same time challenged many harmful misconceptions promoted about Hispanic people in the past decades.
The moment in itself was stunning: Hernández charged in from the outfield to snag a ball he initially misjudged in the bright lights, then fired it to second base to secure another, decisive out. Rojas, positioned nearby, received the ball just a split second before a runner barreled into him, knocking him backwards.
This wasn't merely a great sporting achievement, possibly the key shift in momentum in the team's favor after appearing for most of the series like the weaker team. To her, it was exhilarating, politically and culturally, a much-required morale boost for the community and for Los Angeles after a period of immigration raids, troops patrolling the streets, and a constant drumbeat of negativity from official sources.
"The players presented this alternative story," said the professor. "The world witnessed Latinos displaying an contagious pride and joy in what they do, acting as key figures on the team, exhibiting a distinct kind of confidence. They are energetic, they're yelling, they're taking off their shirts."
"This represented such a contrast with what we see on the news – enforcement actions, Latinos detained and chased down. It's so easy to be disheartened right now."
However, it's exactly simple to be a team fan these days – for her or for the many of other fans who attend regularly to matches and occupy as many as 50% of the venue's 50,000 seats each time.
After intensified immigration raids began in the city in June, and national guard units were deployed into the area to react to resulting demonstrations, two of the city's sports clubs promptly issued messages of solidarity with immigrant families – but not the baseball team.
The team president stated the Dodgers prefer to steer clear of political issues – a stance colored, perhaps, by the fact that a sizable portion of the supporters, including some Hispanic fans, are supporters of certain political figures. Under considerable external demands, the organization subsequently pledged $one million in support for individuals directly affected by the operations but made no public condemnation of the government.
Three months earlier, the team did not delay in agreeing to an offer to celebrate their previous championship victory at the official residence – a move that local writers labeled as "disappointing … spineless … and hypocritical", considering the Dodgers' boast in having been the first major league team to end the racial segregation in the mid-20th century and the regular references of that legacy and the principles it represents by officials and current and past players. Several players including the manager had expressed unwillingness to travel to the event during the initial period but then reconsidered or gave in to pressure from team management.
An additional issue for supporters is that the Dodgers are owned by a corporate behemoth, the ownership group, whose equity holdings, as per media reports and its own released financial documents, involve a stake in a private prison corporation that operates detention centers. The group's executives has stated many times that it wants to remain neutral of politics, but its detractors say the silence – and the investment – are their own form of acquiescence to certain policies.
All of that contribute to significant conflicted emotions among Latino supporters in especial – feelings that emerged even in the excitement of this year's hard-won championship victory and the following explosion of team support across Los Angeles.
"Is it okay to root for the Dodgers?" area writer Erick Galindo agonized at the beginning of the playoffs in an thoughtful article ruminating on "team loyalty in our veins, but doubt in our minds". He was unable to finally bring himself to view the World Series, but he still cared deeply, to the extent that he decided his personal boycott must have brought the squad the fortune it required to succeed.
Many supporters who share similar reservations appear to have concluded that they can continue to back the team and its roster of global stars, including the Asian superstar a key player, while pouring scorn on the organization's business overlords. Nowhere was this more evident than at the victory celebration at the home venue on the following day, when the capacity crowd roared in support of the coach and his players but booed the team president and the top official of the ownership group.
"The executives in suits do not get to claim our boys in blue from us," Molina said. "We've been with the team for more time than they have."
The issue, however, goes further than only the organization's current owners. The agreement that moved the Brooklyn Dodgers to the city in the 1950s involved the city razing three low-income Hispanic communities on a elevated area above the city center and then transferring the land to the team for a fraction of its actual worth. A song on a mid-2000s album that chronicles the events has an low-income parking attendant at the venue stating that the house he forfeited to eviction is now third base.
Gustavo Arellano, perhaps southern California most widely followed Mexican American columnist and broadcaster, sees a darker side to the long, problematic relationship between the team and its audience. He describes the team the popular snack of baseball, "a corporate entity with an excessive, even harmful following by too many Latinos" that has been exploiting its supporters for years.
"They have acted around Hispanic fans while profiting from them with the other hand for so much time because they have been able to avoid consequences," the writer noted over the warmer months, when demands to avoid the organization over its lack of response to the raids were upended by the awkward reality that attendance at matches did not dip, even at the height of the demonstrations when downtown LA was subject to a nightly curfew.
Distinguishing the squad from its business leadership is not a simple task, {
Urban enthusiast and writer passionate about sustainable city living and cultural exploration.