"Government is government. Team is team." That's how Vartan Golbodaghians, a player for Los Angeles-based Arya FC, drew the line ahead of Iran's 2-2 World Cup opener against New Zealand at Los Angeles Stadium. For plenty in Southern California's Iranian diaspora — one of the largest outside Iran — it's not that clean a separation.
Inside the stadium, the divide was visible from the stands. Some fans waved the flag of the Islamic Republic. Others held the pre-revolution Lion and Sun flag. The same split runs through communities across the San Fernando Valley and beyond, where people who share a language, a sport, and a homeland don't always agree on what cheering for the national team means.
Arya FC and the 90-minute truce
Arya FC, a recreational over-48 club founded about a decade ago and made up largely of Iranian-born immigrants, held a playoff match the Sunday before Iran's opener. Co-founder Nader Adeli coaches the side and has lived outside Iran for 47 years. He still gets emotional about it.
"I've lived 47 years outside of Iran, but I still get goosebumps when I think about Iran, and I support that team," he said.
Adeli's read on the community is that opposition softens the moment goals start flying. "When Iran scores the first goal against New Zealand, everybody will jump off your seat and start saying, 'Hooray,'" he predicted. Given the 2-2 draw that followed, he may have had a point — though two goals conceded leaves Iran's group-stage odds looking fragile.
For the team itself, Adeli has genuine ambition. "This is probably the first time that we can go beyond the group stage," he said. That's an optimistic take, but not a delusional one — Iran have shown flashes in recent tournaments without the results to match.
The disconnect some fans won't ignore
Not everyone is ready to separate the shirt from what it represents. Amin Jafari, a former soccer player in Iran now based in Southern California, hasn't moved on from the protests and the people killed during them.
"There is nothing more important than the people who lost their lives for Iran," Jafari said. "I was expecting those players to show some respect to people who died for the country."
His conclusion is blunt: "The connection between the players and the people is already gone."
That's a harder thing to dismiss than a flag disagreement. For Iran's World Cup betting markets, the story off the pitch may matter less than what happens on it — but a fanbase this fractured rarely creates a unified home crowd. In Los Angeles, at least, they're playing in front of both versions of themselves.
