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 finale last Saturday, when her squad pulled off one death-defying comeback feat after another before winning in overtime against the Toronto Blue Jays.
It came a game earlier, when two supporting athletes, Kike Hernández and the Venezuelan infielder, executed a thrilling, game-winning sequence that at the same time upended numerous negative misconceptions promoted about Latinos in the past years.
The moment in itself was stunning: the outfielder charged in from the outfield to catch a ball he at first lost in the stadium lights, then fired it to second base to secure another, game-winning play. the second baseman, at second base, caught the ball just a split second before a opposing player barreled into him, sending him to the ground.
This wasn't just a remarkable sporting achievement, perhaps the key turn in the series in the team's favor after appearing for most of the games like the weaker side. For Molina, it was exhilarating, on multiple levels, a much-required uplift for the community and for the city after a period of immigration raids, security forces monitoring the neighborhoods, and a steady stream of negativity from official sources.
"Kike and Miggy presented this counter-narrative," explained the professor. "Everyone saw Latinos showing an infectious enthusiasm in what they do, being leaders on the team, having a distinct kind of confidence. They're energetic, they're yelling, they're taking off their shirts."
"It was such a juxtaposition with what we see on the news – enforcement actions, Latinos detained and chased down. It is so simple to be disheartened these days."
Not that it's exactly straightforward to be a team supporter these days – for Molina or for the legions of other Latinos who attend faithfully to matches and fill up as many as half of the venue's fifty thousand seats per game.
After aggressive immigration raids began in Los Angeles in June, and national guard units were deployed into the city to respond to ensuing protests, two of the city's soccer teams quickly released statements of support with affected communities – but not the Dodgers.
The team president has said the organization prefer to stay away of political issues – a stance colored, perhaps, by the reality that a sizable portion of the fans, even some Hispanic fans, are supporters of certain political figures. After considerable public pressure, the organization subsequently committed $one million in aid for individuals personally affected by the operations but made no public criticism of the government.
Three months earlier, the team did not delay in accepting an offer to mark their previous World Series win at the official residence – a move that local writers labeled as "disappointing … spineless … and hypocritical", considering the Dodgers' boast in having been the pioneering professional team to end the color barrier in the 1940s and the frequent references of that history and the values it embodies by executives and current and past players. Several players including the manager had expressed unwillingness to travel to the White House during the initial period but then reconsidered or succumbed to demands from the organization.
A further complication for supporters is that the Dodgers are controlled by a large investment group, Guggenheim Partners, whose investments, according to sources and its own published balance sheets, involve a share in a detention corporation that operates enforcement facilities. The group's leadership has stated repeatedly that it aims to remain neutral of political matters, but its critics say the inaction – and the investment – are their own type of acquiescence to current agendas.
These factors contribute to significant conflicted emotions among Latino supporters in especial – feelings that emerged even in the euphoria of this year's hard-fought World Series triumph and the ensuing explosion of team pride across Los Angeles.
"Can one to support the team?" area writer Erick Galindo reflected at the start of the playoffs in an thoughtful article pondering on "Dodger blue in our veins, but doubt in our minds". Galindo was unable to finally bring himself to view the championship, but he still felt deeply, to the extent that he decided his one-man boycott must have brought the team the fortune it needed to win.
Many fans who have Galindo's misgivings seem to have decided that they can keep to back the team and its lineup of global stars, including the Asian megastar Shohei Ohtani, while expressing disdain on the team's corporate overlords. Nowhere was this more clear than at the championship parade at Dodger Stadium on the following day, when the packed audience roared in approval of the coach and his players but booed the team president and the chief executive of the ownership group.
"The executives in formal attire do not get to take our players from us," Molina said. "We have been with the team longer than they have."
The issue, though, goes further than just the organization's current proprietors. The agreement that brought the Brooklyn Dodgers to the city in the 1950s involved the city demolishing three working-class Latino communities on a hill above the city center and then selling the property to the organization for a fraction of its market value. A track on a 2005 album that chronicles the events has an impoverished worker at the venue stating that the house he forfeited to eviction is now a part of the field.
A prominent commentator, possibly southern California most influential Latino 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 popular snack of baseball, "a corporate entity with an excessive, even unhealthy following by too many Latinos" that has been shortchanging its supporters for decades.
"They have acted around Hispanic followers while profiting from them with the other for so long because they have been able to get away with it," the writer wrote over the summer, when calls to avoid the team over its lack of response to the raids were contradicted by the awkward fact that turnout at matches remained steady, even at the peak of the protests when downtown LA was under to a nightly curfew.
Separating the squad from its corporate owners is not a easy task, {
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