"It doesn't matter what team is playing here, there are always Mexican fans." Jacqueline Damian said it standing outside Los Angeles Stadium ahead of Switzerland versus Bosnia and Herzegovina — a game Mexico had nothing to do with. She was surrounded by green shirts anyway.
That's Los Angeles in the summer of 2026. The World Cup is technically co-hosted by three countries, but in a county with nearly 5 million Latinos — the largest such community in the United States — there's an unofficial fourth host. It's not on the FIFA schedule. It's just the reality of southern California.
A crowd that never needs an invitation
Even at the U.S. team's opening group game, Mexico shirts competed with Team USA colours inside a 70,000-seat stadium. Some supporters wore both — a U.S. scarf over a green jersey, a quiet signal of dual identity rather than divided loyalty. Many Mexican Americans are quick to say they root for both teams. The green shirt isn't a rejection of anything. It's an assertion.
"Our culture runs deep and we're not afraid to come out and show it," said Alejandra Navarro, a 29-year-old nurse from LA whose parents are from Michoacán.
That depth has a historical dimension too. California was Mexican territory until the U.S. seized the Southwest in the 1846–1848 war. The place names — Los Angeles, San Diego, San Francisco — are a permanent reminder. The football fans showing up in green are, in some sense, not guests in this city at all.
At a watch party in Boyle Heights, a historically Latino neighbourhood east of downtown, Mexico fans shared the streets with Korean and Korean American supporters during Mexico's group match against South Korea. Mexican fans waved small Korean flags — a callback to 2018, when South Korea's victory over Germany helped Mexico advance from the group stage. "We love the Koreans!" shouted Andrew Gomez, 20, wearing a green and red lucha libre mask.
What this means beyond the atmosphere
For Mexico as a footballing brand, this World Cup is a chance to remind everyone — sponsors, broadcasters, FIFA itself — that their fanbase doesn't stop at the border. The commercial weight of Mexican football in the U.S. market is already well understood by Liga MX clubs and MLS franchises alike, but a home World Cup puts it on the biggest possible stage.
Whether Mexico can match the noise their supporters generate on the pitch is another question. But in Los Angeles at least, the result barely changes the atmosphere. Damian's father, Jose Roman, 48, grew up playing football on dirt streets in Mexico. His daughter grew up in Anaheim. Same shirt. Same noise.
"Mexico is football," Damian said. "That's why anytime you go to a soccer game in Los Angeles, you'll always see someone repping Mexico."
