Putting U.S. on your chest and going out there and competing obviously means the world. As Venezuelan players, we are playing for our country, and, of course, putting Latin America in a high position, showing that we have great baseball, we have great talent.
Removing the United States as co-host of the 2026 World Cup would hurt for pretty much everyone. Fans would miss out on seeing the sport's pinnacle in their home towns (or somewhere nearby). Cities and businesses small and large would lose the financial benefits they had banked on. It would be a logistical and political nightmare on an international scale, the likes of which have never been seen before in sports. It would be eminently sad. And it would be entirely justified.
Five months out from the World Cup the politics are impossible to avoid. There are concerns relating to one of the host countries, the US, with armed immigration officials roaming through its cities and visa restrictions ramped up against foreign visitors. One qualifying nation, Iran, is experiencing a public uprising against its leadership, with the regime attacking its citizens in response.
A perfectly friendly-looking American guy, sharp suit, early 50s is wandering around Miami. He tells me that in the last 10 years the city has turned into a magnet for dreamers, doers and visionaries, a launchpad where ideas take flight, where connections spark movements, where legacies are born. I nod sagely, pretending to know what that means before clicking the X in the top right of the YouTube tab.
Zohran Mamdani, our current mayor-in-waiting, emphasized that David Dinkins, as a member of the Democratic Socialists of America, played a pivotal role in bringing the US Open to New York City. His legacy is a reminder of a different era of political engagement and sports as a unifying force.
The unfolding saga highlights the intersection of sporting events and national identity, demonstrating how historical and cultural narratives can influence contemporary politics and international relations.