For a lifelong Dodgers fan and longtime Mexican American, the most memorable moment of the World Series did not happen during the tense finale last Saturday, when her squad executed one dramatic escape act after another and then winning in extra innings against the opposing team.
It happened in the previous game, when two second-tier athletes, Kike Hernández and Miguel Rojas, pulled off a thrilling, decisive sequence that simultaneously challenged many harmful stereotypes touted about Hispanic people in recent years.
The moment itself was stunning: the outfielder raced in from the outfield to catch a ball he initially misjudged in the bright lights, then fired it to second base to record another, game-winning out. the second baseman, positioned nearby, received the ball just a split second before a opposing player barreled into him, knocking him to the ground.
This was not just a great sporting achievement, perhaps the key turn in momentum in the team's direction after looking for most of the series like the weaker side. To her, it was thrilling, on multiple levels, a much-required morale boost for Latinos and for Los Angeles after months of enforcement actions, security forces patrolling the streets, and a steady drumbeat of criticism from official sources.
"The players presented this counter-narrative," said Molina. "Everyone witnessed Latinos displaying an contagious enthusiasm in what they do, being leaders on the team, exhibiting a different kind of confidence. They're bombastic, they're yelling, they're removing their shirts."
"This represented such a juxtaposition with what we see on the news – raids, Latinos thrown to the ground and chased down. It is so easy to be disheartened right now."
However, it's exactly simple to be a Dodgers supporter nowadays – for Molina or for the legions of other Latinos who show up regularly to home games and fill up as many as 50% of the venue's fifty thousand seats per game.
When intensified enforcement operations began in the city in June, and national guard troops were deployed into the area to react to ensuing demonstrations, two of the local sports teams promptly issued messages of support with affected communities – but not the baseball team.
Management stated the Dodgers prefer to stay away of political issues – a stance colored, possibly, by the fact that a sizable minority of the supporters, including Latinos, are followers of certain political figures. Under considerable external demands, the organization subsequently pledged $one million in support for individuals directly impacted by the raids but issued no public criticism of the administration.
Months before, the team did not hesitate in accepting an invitation to mark their previous championship victory at the official residence – a move that sports writers labeled as "disappointing … weak … and contradictory", given the team's boast in having been the pioneering major league franchise to end the racial segregation in the 1940s and the regular invocations of that history and the values it embodies by officials and current and past players. A number of team members such as the coach had voiced reluctance to go to the White House during the first term but then reconsidered or gave in to pressure from the organization.
A further complication for supporters is that the Dodgers are owned by a corporate behemoth, Guggenheim Partners, whose equity holdings, according to sources and its own released financial documents, include a share in a detention company that runs detention centers. The group's leadership has stated repeatedly that it aims to stay out of politics, but its detractors say the inaction – and the financial stake – are their own form of compliance to current agendas.
All of that add up to considerable mixed feelings among Hispanic fans in particular – feelings that emerged even in the excitement of this year's hard-fought World Series triumph and the ensuing explosion of team pride across the city.
"Is it okay to root for the team?" local writer one observer reflected at the start of the postseason in an thoughtful article pondering on "Dodger blue in our veins, but uncertainty in our minds". He was unable to ultimately bring himself to view the championship, but he still felt strongly, to the point that he decided his personal boycott must have brought the squad the fortune it required to succeed.
Many supporters who have Galindo's misgivings seem to have concluded that they can keep to support the players and its lineup of global stars, including the Asian megastar a key player, while pouring scorn on the organization's business leadership. At no place was this more clear than at the championship parade at Dodger Stadium on Monday, when the packed audience cheered in support of the coach and his players but jeered the executive and the top official of the investors.
"These men in suits do not get to take our players from us," the fan said. "We've been with the Dodgers longer than they have."
The issue, however, goes further than just the organization's present owners. The deal that brought the Brooklyn Dodgers to Los Angeles in the late 1950s required the city razing three low-income Hispanic neighborhoods on a hill overlooking 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 documents the events has an low-income worker at the venue stating that the house he forfeited to removal is now a part of the field.
A prominent commentator, possibly the region's most widely followed Latino columnist and broadcaster, sees a darker side to the long, dysfunctional relationship between the team and its fanbase. He calls the team the Flamin' Hot Cheetos of baseball, "a business organization with an undue, even unhealthy devotion by numerous Latinos" that has been exploiting its fans for decades.
"They've acted around Hispanic followers while profiting from them with the other for so long because they have been able to avoid consequences," Arellano noted over the warmer months, when calls to boycott the organization over its lack of response to the enforcement actions were contradicted by the uncomfortable reality that turnout at home games remained steady, even at the height of the protests when the city center was subject to a evening restriction.
Separating the squad from its corporate owners is not a simple task, {
Lena is a freelance writer and cultural enthusiast based in Berlin, passionate about sharing authentic stories and life lessons.