Los Angeles Dodgers Win the Championship, But for Hispanic Fans, It's Not So Simple
In the eyes of a lifelong Dodgers fan and third-generation Mexican American, the crowning moment of the baseball championship did not occur during the nail-biting final game last Saturday, when her squad executed multiple dramatic comeback act after another before prevailing in extra innings against the Toronto Blue Jays.
It happened in the previous game, when two supporting athletes, Kike Hernández and the Venezuelan infielder, executed a electrifying, game-winning sequence that at the same time upended many harmful misconceptions promoted about Hispanic people in recent years.
The moment itself was stunning: Hernández charged in from left field to snag a ball he initially misjudged in the stadium lights, then fired it to the infield to record another, game-winning out. Rojas, positioned nearby, received the ball just a split second before a runner barreled into him, sending him to the ground.
This was not merely a great athletic achievement, possibly the decisive turn in the series in the team's favor after looking for much of the games 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 months of immigration raids, security forces monitoring the neighborhoods, and a steady stream of criticism from national leaders.
"The players presented this alternative story," said the professor. "Everyone saw Latinos showing an contagious enthusiasm in what they do, acting as key figures on the team, having a different kind of confidence. They're energetic, they're yelling, they're taking off their shirts."
"It was such a contrast with what we see on the news – raids, Latinos detained and pursued. It's so simple to be disheartened these days."
Not that it's entirely straightforward to be a Dodgers supporter nowadays – for her or for the many of other Latinos who attend regularly to home games and occupy as many as half of the venue's 50,000 spots each time.
The Complicated Connection with the Team
After aggressive immigration raids started in the city in June, and national guard troops were deployed into the area to react to ensuing protests, two of the city's sports teams promptly issued statements of solidarity with affected communities – but not the baseball team.
The team president stated the organization prefer to steer clear of politics – a stance influenced, possibly, by the reality that a significant portion of the fans, even some Hispanic fans, are supporters of current political figures. After significant external demands, the organization later pledged $1m in aid for families directly impacted by the raids but made no official criticism of the administration.
White House Visit and Past Legacy
Months before, the organization did not hesitate in agreeing to an offer to mark their previous World Series win at the official residence – a move that sports writers labeled as "disappointing … spineless … and hypocritical", given the Dodgers' boast in having been the first professional franchise to break the racial segregation in the mid-20th century and the regular references of that legacy and the principles it represents by officials and present and former players. A number of team members including the manager had voiced unwillingness to go to the White House during the first term but either changed their minds or succumbed to demands from team management.
Corporate Control and Supporter Conflicts
An additional complication for supporters is that the Dodgers are owned by a corporate behemoth, Guggenheim Partners, whose equity holdings, according to media reports and its own released financial documents, include a stake in a detention corporation that operates enforcement facilities. The group's leadership has said repeatedly that it aims to remain neutral of politics, but its detractors say the inaction – and the investment – are their own type of compliance to current agendas.
These factors contribute to significant conflicted emotions among Latino supporters in particular – sentiments that surfaced even in the euphoria of this year's hard-won championship victory and the following outpouring of Dodgers pride across the city.
"Can one to support the team?" local writer Erick Galindo agonized at the beginning of the postseason in an thoughtful essay ruminating on "team loyalty in our veins, but uncertainty in our hearts". Galindo couldn't finally bring himself to view the championship, but he still felt deeply, to the point that he believed his personal boycott must have given the team the fortune it required to win.
Separating the Team from the Owners
Many fans who have similar misgivings seem to have concluded that they can keep to back the players and its roster of international stars, featuring the Japanese megastar Shohei Ohtani, while pouring scorn on the team's business leadership. Nowhere was this more clear than at the championship parade at the home venue on the following day, when the capacity crowd cheered in approval of the manager and his players but jeered the team president and the chief executive of the ownership group.
"The executives in suits do not get to take our boys in blue from us," the fan said. "We have been with the team longer than they have."
Historical Context and Community Impact
The issue, though, runs deeper than just the team's present owners. The agreement that moved the Brooklyn Dodgers to Los Angeles in the 1950s required the city demolishing three low-income Hispanic communities on a elevated area overlooking the city center and then selling the land to the organization for a small part of its actual worth. A track on a 2005 record that chronicles the story has an low-income parking attendant at the venue revealing that the house he lost to removal is now a part of the field.
A prominent commentator, perhaps southern California most influential Mexican American columnist and media personality, sees a more troubling side to the lengthy, problematic relationship between the team and its fanbase. He calls the Dodgers the Flamin' Hot Cheetos of baseball, "a corporate entity with an undue, even harmful devotion by too many Latinos" that has been shortchanging its supporters for decades.
"They have acted around Latino followers while picking their pockets with the other for so long because they have been able to get away with it," the writer noted over the summer, when demands to avoid the team over its absence of reaction to the enforcement actions were contradicted by the awkward reality that attendance at matches remained steady, even at the height of the protests when downtown LA was subject to a nightly curfew.
International Stars and Fan Connections
Separating the squad from its business leadership is not a easy task, {