INGLEWOOD, Calif. — As I walked into SoFi Stadium on Monday for Iran's World Cup opener against New Zealand, I couldn't help but think about where I was about four years ago.
When Iran played the United States at the 2022 World Cup in Qatar, I spent much of that tournament conflicted about how I felt watching Team Melli. Like many Iranian-Americans, I had grown up rooting for Iran in every World Cup and every major tournament. Team Melli was my team. It was the team my family gathered around the television to watch. It was the team that connected us to a country we loved despite being thousands of miles away.
But the 2022 World Cup came during one of the darkest periods in modern Iranian history. The Mahsa Amini protests had sparked a movement that transcended sports and politics. Every day seemed to bring another heartbreaking story out of Iran. The players found themselves caught in the middle of something far bigger than soccer, representing a country they loved while being forced to answer questions about a government many Iranians despised.
After the United States defeated Iran 1-0 and eliminated Team Melli from the World Cup, there were photographs of American players embracing and consoling emotional Iranian players. I wrote at the time that sports are often an escape from reality, but sometimes they become a platform for realities we cannot ignore. Looking at those images, I couldn't stop thinking about the pressure those players had carried throughout the tournament. They weren't just playing for a place in the knockout round. They were navigating a political and social crisis unfolding in front of the entire world.
As I entered SoFi Stadium on Monday, I realized many of those same emotions were still with me. The headlines have changed and the circumstances are different, but the reality facing Iran has not fundamentally changed. The regime that took power in 1979 remains in place. The tensions that have divided families, communities and generations remain. The conflict many Iranian-Americans feel when watching Team Melli remains.
What has never changed is my love for Iran.
I was born in the United States to Iranian parents who came here to study and planned to return home after finishing school. Like many immigrants of their generation, they expected their time in America to be temporary. Then the revolution happened. The country they intended to return to became a different place, and the life they envisioned was suddenly no longer possible.
Instead of growing up in Tehran, I grew up in Los Angeles, a city that has become so closely connected to the Iranian diaspora that many people simply call it Tehrangeles. I grew up surrounded by Persian culture, food, music and traditions. Iran was never some distant place on a map. It was part of our everyday lives.
That connection extended to Team Melli.
I've been fortunate enough to cover Super Bowls, World Series games, NBA Finals, Stanley Cup Finals and some of the biggest sporting events in the world. Yet some of my favorite sports memories have nothing to do with press boxes or championship celebrations. They took place in a living room with my family gathered around a television watching Iran play in the World Cup.
My mother has never been much of a sports fan. She doesn't spend her Sundays watching football and isn't checking scores throughout the day. But when Team Melli plays in the World Cup, everything changes. Suddenly every pass matters. Every chance creates tension. Every goal becomes a family celebration.
Like so many Iranians, my parents have never confused their love of Iran with support for the government that rules it. That distinction is obvious to most Iranians but often misunderstood by people outside the community. The Islamic Republic is not Iran. Iran is a civilization that stretches back thousands of years. It is poetry, music, food, art, culture and history. It existed long before the current regime and it will exist long after it.
That is what so many of us are supporting when Team Melli takes the field.
For the first time in my life, I wasn't watching a Team Melli World Cup match with my family. Instead, I was covering the game as a journalist. Covering the World Cup has been a dream of mine for as long as I can remember, and I wouldn't trade the experience for anything. But sitting in SoFi Stadium press box on Monday, I found myself thinking about how much I missed sharing that moment with my parents and my brother.
There is something special about watching Team Melli with people who understand exactly what those matches mean. The politics may be complicated. The emotions may be complicated. But celebrating a goal with family never is.
I also couldn't stop thinking about the players themselves. Perhaps nobody understands this conflict better than they do. For years they have been placed in impossible situations, expected by some to become political symbols while being criticized by others no matter what they say or do. At the end of the day, they are athletes who simply want to represent their country on the biggest stage in sports.
Like many young Iranians, they are trying to navigate realities they did not create. They understand the frustrations. They understand the hopes. They understand the dreams millions of Iranians have for the future. Yet for 90 minutes at a time, they are simply trying to play the game they love.
As I watched Iran begin another World Cup campaign Monday night with a thrilling 2-2 draw against New Zealand, I realized my feelings were no longer as conflicted as they had been in 2022. The sadness is still there. The frustration is still there. The hope for a better future for Iran is still there.
But so is the pride.
So is the connection to my family.
So is the feeling I had as a kid sitting in front of a television with my parents, hoping Team Melli could pull off something special.
For all the complicated emotions that come with being an Iranian-American in 2026, that feeling still feels like home.