Everything’s the Best: All the World’s a Stage
Here in Southern California, early-to-mid June is probably the time of year where everything looks like what everyone else thinks Southern California looks like. I mean, yes, we don’t get “seasons” in the way lots of other places do. But I guess this time of year is maybe the most prominent in terms of the sun being at a level where a day out really leaves you feeling much more nuzzled by it as opposed to being outright punched.
The flowers are in bloom, the days are longer, and this year, Los Angeles is host to the World Cup. So, in the middle of what is arguably the best time to be here, we are also the epicenter of the World’s Game.
It is such a weird experience, though, to be confronted with the joy and celebration that hosting this massive event brings knowing all that I know about the politics of the US government and the experience of seeing its policies made viscerally manifest in Los Angeles. In some ways, as we’ll discuss more pointedly, LA has felt more prominently that experience; at the very least, it’s been ground zero for what we’ve seen since in Chicago, Minnesota, and now in New Jersey.
What might not be so clear to folks in other part of the world is that LA is still being occupied – that we’re enduring and piecing ourselves back together, right now as welcome the world into our city.
Perhaps most sobering is the fact that the first match on US soil, which was hosted in LA – the US’s most devoted soccer fanbase (I’m saying: the deepest collection of people that love the game, not necessarily about the fandom of any particular team) – coincided with the one year anniversary of the first wave of mass deportation raids that upended the community in 2025.
I remember those days – watching SEIU President David Huerta being assaulted and then unjustly arrested by ICE, driving north to Santa Barbara to deliver remarks at a solidarity press conference only to be told that as we were speaking a large scale raid was taking place less than an hour away in Ventura, and then being tear-gassed for the first time as I took part in a peaceful solidarity march. That was my experience of the first 13 days of June 2025 and all of that took place within a 4 day span.
I watched as the National Guard occupied my city, received updates daily about pick-ups taking place in the neighborhoods adjacent to where I frequent, and then saw footage of immigration officials marching through MacArthur Park. And since that time I’ve mourned people that I know who’ve made the difficult decision to self-deport or who’ve been detained. Just this week, I was told of a community member who’d been sent to our local detention center which happens to be perhaps the worst of the lot in the nation. I found out soon after that I know their daughter, someone who’s close in age to my own.
Which is to say: I’m carrying a ton of grief and confusion and pain. Pain and grief, obvious enough in terms of the source. But my confusion comes from the why of this exceedingly gaudy and, in many ways, offensive display taking place in my town.
I ask why mostly because I don’t think the World Cup should have been hosted here given all of that taking place. Which is to say that folks knew the political environment that would eventually lead to the Iranian team opting to change their base of operations to Mexico due in large part to the treatment given them by US officials, the Somali referee being denied entry to this country, and the threats by the administration to have ICE provide security at US events.
FIFA officials had every opportunity to make different choices and instead opted for this.
I feel like it’s important for me to name that LA – and indeed nearly every community that’s witnessed these fascist actions in their neighborhoods – has resisted at every turn and continues to persist now. In fact, in the days leading up to the opening match, the union representing workers at SoFi Stadium in Inglewood (which hosted the opening match) notched a historic labor victory as they secured a new contract for workers that includes a first-of-its-kind win: the union retains its ability to strike even with the contract being ratified if, for any reason, its workers feel threatened by immigration enforcement.
It isn’t a perfect contract by any means – I’ve certainly got mine as an immigrant rights worker – but it is symbolic of the truth that Los Angeles sees its immigrant community as very much knitted into the fabric of the city itself. That you can’t tell the story of LA without speaking about immigrant hands that shape it, immigrant families that breathe life into its spaces, immigrant people that we consider Angelenos to the very core.
On my commutes in, I’ve seen the effect that that hosting an event of this size has on any place: the sudden business of public works and civil engineering in places that the powers that be has allowed to fall into disrepair. A familiar story for me having grown up in a community just like that. The investments that we’d been told couldn’t be done to support the people who live and work in this area – new train cars, increased service, and rail line extensions, for example – were suddenly able to be got. Ironically, to support the influx of foreign people into the region.
Migrants, again, helping lift the local conditions for everyone.
There’s no way to avoid the political choices taking place in order to support this entire endeavor. And, in particular, the choices of FIFA – most obviously being Gianni Infantino creating a peace prize out of whole cloth in order to stoke the ego of a particular head of state.
It reeks, I think, of a certain level of arrogance that only exists among this tier of folks that you can bend the world to cater to your vision, not willing to view the obvious limitations and, most importantly, the dire consequences of getting it wrong. Ask the Scottish and Senegalese fans denied visas how they must feel about it all.
But even looking at the matches themselves, you can’t escape the residue of trying to remove the political context of international soccer. For example, Haiti – who opened their tournament against Andy Robertson’s Scotland – had to make a change to their home kit, which included a tribute to the Battle of Vertieres which is regarded as the final battle in Haiti’s fight for independence from France. FIFA penalized Haiti and deemed this tribute “political speech” in violation of its policies. It is a tremendously wild thing to hold given the many, many times FIFA representatives have held up the potential for football to be a force for inclusivity and progressive change, often in the face of critiques for holding the World Cup in nations that have taken up positions against different minoritized groups.
Nations like the USA.
Ultimately, I’m kind of stuck in a bind: I love this sport and I love the place that I live. I wouldn’t be so concerned nor so committed to working towards change if I didn’t love either this much, nor if I believed that it wasn’t possible. But I see Los Angeles and I see in it the people that helped shape me. In America, I see the opportunities I’ve received. In football, the welcome and home I’ve always longed for.
I know that there’s a lot at stake and it’s a long way to climb, but I also know it’s worth attempting. Because this stuff is too beautiful, too meaningful to just leave to the wolves and vultures who maybe want to be a part of it, but can’t understand – by choice or by nature – the why of what makes it all hold together: the people.
Maybe I’ll tune in to a match or two. I’m certainly eyeing a few of those kits (Germany, France, and Spain away – the latter of which is already sold out; Haiti – pre-censoring – home; and maybe the Senegal) and have considered getting my first Panini sticker book.
I saw a post from a friend that said something like, “the football isn’t the problem; it’s the ones in charge that don’t get the game that are the problem.”
So, yeah, I’ll maybe check in. But I’ll also be thinking of ways to protect the game for us and looking to connect with others who want to do the same. Because that post is right: the football isn’t the problem. But I have a responsibility to doing what I can to preserve the beauty that sparked something in me so many years ago. A spark that I can only now identify as inspiration.
Football – soccer – has helped me to dream. I hope we can work together to make sure it still offers that avenue for others in the future.
Source: liverpooloffside.sbnation.com
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