In the eyes of a lifelong Dodgers fan and longtime Mexican American, the most memorable moment of the baseball championship did not occur during the tense finale on Saturday, when her squad pulled off multiple death-defying escape act after another and then prevailing in overtime against the opposing team.
It came a game earlier, when two second-tier athletes, the Puerto Rican player and Miguel Rojas, pulled off a electrifying, decisive sequence that simultaneously upended many negative misconceptions touted about Hispanic people in recent decades.
The play itself was stunning: Hernández raced in from left field to catch a ball he initially lost in the stadium lights, then threw it to the infield to secure another, decisive out. Rojas, at second base, received the ball just a split second before a opposing player collided with him, sending him backwards.
This wasn't just a remarkable athletic moment, possibly the decisive shift in momentum in the team's direction after looking for much of the games like the underdog team. To her, it was exhilarating, on multiple levels, a much-required uplift for Latinos and for the city after a period of enforcement actions, security forces patrolling the streets, and a constant stream of criticism from official sources.
"The players put forth this alternative story," explained the professor. "The world saw Latinos displaying an infectious pride and joy in what they do, being leaders on the team, having a different kind of confidence. They are bombastic, they're cheering, they're removing their shirts."
"This represented such a contrast with what we see on the news – raids, Latinos detained and chased down. 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 fans who attend regularly to home games and occupy as many as half of the stadium's fifty thousand seats per game.
After aggressive enforcement operations began in Los Angeles in June, and national guard troops were sent into the city to react to ensuing demonstrations, two of the city's sports clubs promptly issued messages of solidarity with affected communities – while the baseball team.
Management stated the organization want to stay away of political issues – a view influenced, possibly, by the reality that a significant portion of the fans, even some Hispanic fans, are supporters of current political figures. Under significant external demands, the organization later pledged $1m in support for families directly impacted by the raids but made no public condemnation of the government.
Months earlier, the organization did not delay in agreeing to an offer to celebrate their 2024 championship win at the White House – a decision that sports columnists labeled as "disappointing … weak … and hypocritical", given the team's boast in having been the first professional franchise to break the color barrier in the mid-20th century and the regular references of that legacy and the values it represents by officials and present and past athletes. Several players such as the manager had voiced reluctance to travel to the White House during the initial period but then changed their minds or gave in to pressure from the organization.
An additional complication for fans is that the Dodgers are owned by a corporate behemoth, Guggenheim Partners, whose investments, according to sources and its own published financial documents, include a share in a private prison corporation that operates detention facilities. Guggenheim's leadership has said repeatedly that it aims to stay out of politics, but its detractors say the inaction – and the financial stake – are their own type of acquiescence to certain policies.
These factors contribute to significant conflicted emotions among Hispanic supporters in particular – sentiments that emerged even in the excitement of this season's hard-fought World Series triumph and the following explosion of Dodgers pride across Los Angeles.
"Can one to root for the team?" area columnist Erick Galindo reflected at the start of the postseason in an elegant essay ruminating on "team loyalty in our veins, but doubt in our minds". He was unable to finally bring himself to view the championship, but he still cared deeply, to the point that he believed his personal boycott must have brought the squad the fortune it needed to succeed.
Numerous fans who have similar misgivings appear to have decided that they can keep to back the players and its roster of international players, featuring the Japanese superstar Shohei Ohtani, while pouring scorn on the team's corporate leadership. Nowhere was this more evident than at the victory celebration at the home venue on the following day, when the capacity crowd cheered in support of the manager and his athletes but jeered the team president and the top official of the investors.
"These men in suits don't get to claim our boys in blue from us," Molina said. "We've been with the Dodgers for more time than they have."
The issue, though, runs deeper than just the team's present owners. The deal that brought the Brooklyn Dodgers to the city in the 1950s required the city razing three low-income Latino neighborhoods on a elevated area above the city center and then selling the land to the organization for a small part of its market value. A track on a mid-2000s record that chronicles the story has an low-income worker at the venue revealing that the home he lost to eviction is now a part of the field.
Gustavo Arellano, possibly the region's most influential Mexican American writer and media personality, sees a darker side to the lengthy, dysfunctional dynamic between the franchise and its fanbase. He describes the team the popular snack of baseball, "a business organization with an undue, even harmful following by too many Latinos" that has been exploiting its supporters for years.
"They've acted around Latino fans while picking their pockets with the other hand for so long because they have been able to get away with it," the writer wrote over the summer, when demands to boycott the team over its lack of response to the raids were upended by the uncomfortable fact that attendance at matches remained steady, even at the peak of the demonstrations when the city center was subject to a evening restriction.
Distinguishing the squad from its corporate owners is not a easy task, {
Elara is a seasoned strategist with over a decade of experience in corporate leadership and military tactics.