Ira Gorawara
By Ira Gorawara
PASADENA, Calif. — A broad-mouthed ladle tapped the rim of a
gleaming steel pot heavy with pozole, sending steam into the last cobalt
streaks of the evening. The smell of hominy and pork wound through
this chilled pocket of Lot H, curling around the regulars in a memory
they’d worn for years.
On Saturday night, that comfort doubled as something warm, trying to
cling to something slipping away.
“You can’t leave before trying pozole,” Javier Flores told a reporter,
portioning out a bowl before crowning the stew with precise wrist flicks
— shredded lettuce, diced onions, radish, lime, a stripe of deep-red
salsa.
The bowl burned like a signal in the dusk, maybe the last gathering of a
family soon to face an uncertain future if UCLA closes on its talks to
relocate home football games from the Rose Bowl to SoFi Stadium. The
modernized, indoor arena with glass, LED glow and the luxurious home
to the Los Angeles Rams and Chargers is a far cry from the sunlit
sprawl and foothill backdrop of Pasadena’s 103-year-old stadium that
UCLA has long called home.
UCLA has been in talks since at least March about playing in SoFi
Stadium as soon as next season, a process now at the center of a
lawsuit filed by the City of Pasadena and Rose Bowl Operating
Company. The city alleges UCLA has been secretly negotiating with
SoFi officials and breaching a lease that runs to 2044, while UCLA
insists that “no decision has been made.” A judge on Nov. 12 denied
Pasadena’s request for an emergency order to halt the Bruins’ talks.
The Rose Bowl argues a move by UCLA — the stadium’s anchor tenant
since 1982 — could cause operational instability and jeopardize
Pasadena’s ability to repay roughly $184 million in bond debt tied to
stadium renovations.
The potential move has split Bruins faithful, some welcoming of the
modern amenities SoFi promises, while others are apprehensive of the
unwinding of nearly 50 years of ritual in Pasadena — particularly the
slow-boil of a tailgate like this one.
This corner of Lot H grew into an insular little world over the decades —
stitched together six Saturdays a year. Presiding over it was Albert
Garcia, a 16-year season-ticket loyalist with a stained apron, manning
the hulking grill he’d muscled in at dawn after beating the longest
parking line he could remember — one swollen, in part, by fans who
turned around before kickoff or later streamed out once the Bruins fell
behind 20-0 to Washington in the second quarter. Saturday’s home
finale drew an announced 38,201, right about the season average that
often looked far thinner inside a 90,000-seat Rose Bowl, 26 miles from
the Westwood campus.
Garcia’s family’s milestones lived in that patch of grass. His son’s first
drink, his daughter’s 16th birthday. The village came from Anaheim, the
Valley, even Birmingham, England — all folded into one organism on
Lot H.
“Tailgating here is so special,” Birmingham local Nigel Thompson said,
“because of meeting people you’ve never met before that welcome you
as a brother or sister.”
Flores exhaled, seemingly batting away a nagging thought. His gaze
slid across the lot, to the friends of 15 years and the low fog of charcoal
that had always signaled home.
“We’re undefeated at tailgating,” he said.
Alana St. Crois hurried over, “Javi!” she yelled, folding into Flores. He’s
watched her daughter grow into a 16-year-old dreaming of becoming a
cheerleader for UCLA. And St. Crois wants that dream to bloom in
Pasadena.
“I’m hurt,” she said. “It makes you feel they (UCLA) don’t care about us.
This is my release. And now it’s gonna possibly come to a halt. I’m
ready to cry.”
Flores pointed to the cousins he’d flown in from El Salvador to witness
this sliver of his world, the bond he’d built with St. Crois, the rotating
menu each Saturday — rotisserie lamb one week, alligator another,
pozole in mid-November — before recognizing the San Gabriel
Mountains, looming over it all like unmoving guardians.
“Everybody’s generous. We share with everybody,” he said. “A mixture
of ethnicities, cultures, food — that’s what makes this.”
A decision far beyond the parking lot — one filed in court documents
and filtered through rumors — hovered over every conversation.
Some voices focus on the benefits of the move, like a recent editorial in
UCLA’s student newspaper that noted SoFi is 13 miles closer to campus
and wired for modern revenue streams the athletic department says it
badly needs. UCLA athletic director Martin Jarmond and chief financial
officer Stephen Agostini said at a UC Regents meeting in May that the
Rose Bowl’s lease restricts the program’s ability to capitalize on
sponsorship and premium seating amid the school claiming a $51.8
million athletic department deficit in 2024.
Flores could view the conflict with a wider lens, saying that should
UCLA football reside in Inglewood down the line, the on-field product
still matters more than where the games are played.
“Alabama would not be anything if they were 0-4 every year,” he said.
“The brand is directly affected by victories.”
But in Lot H, for the regulars who’ve built their falls around these
Saturdays, it wasn’t hard to see why the prospect of leaving hit
differently.
“It’s a money grab,” said 12-year season ticket holder Eddie Quillares Jr.
“If you’re not making money here, do something to fix it here. Moving to
another stadium is not going to fix what we’re putting on the field.
“(UCLA is) gonna lose the heart of the fans that have been coming here
through the ups and downs.”
A few tents down was Gaurav Datta, whose Bruins were 3-7 and hours
from a 42-14 drubbing to Washington in his 27th year as a season ticket
holder. Each game week, he wears his “UCLA BRUINS LOT H CREW”
T-shirt and shows up at his “home away from home.”
“It feels like we’re getting kicked in the teeth,” Datta said. “After being
kicked in the teeth for years with the product on the field — with a no
fun, incompetent football program — now they’re taking the fun that we
have from following the football program.
“We’re going from a losing program to a losing program in a stadium
that’s no fun.”
Datta and his longtime friend Dan Moore, a season ticket holder since
the late 1990s, had already made their customary laps around the Rose
Bowl lots, clinging to every small ritual. Neither planned to renew their
season tickets if UCLA moves on — a sentiment that hummed true
under many canopies.
They feared it would be financially out of reach. NFL parking for Rams
and Chargers games starts at about $80, double the Rose Bowl. A
tailgating space in the lone lot that allows it might run roughly around
$250. UCLA hasn’t announced what its pricing structure would be, but
regulars — many of whom are older fans who have paid full freight for
years, unlike students who might use a Den Pass for discounted entry
— worried that what they pay for an entire season at the Rose Bowl
could disappear on one game day in Inglewood.
“(Right now), we’re in section 16, row eight — eight rows off the actual
turf of the stadium,” Datta said.
“I would rather save that money and do an away game at another
stadium and make a family trip out of it,” said St. Crois, who is not
planning to renew her season tickets. “We can’t even fill this stadium,
and then we’re going to SoFi, and you’re going to charge me more for a
team that’s not winning? I can’t justify that.”
A move to SoFi would likely erase jobs of UCLA’s longtime game-
management staff — those who’ve kept Saturdays humming for years
— since SoFi operates on its own workforce.
“We’re all saying our goodbyes,” said Josh Lemus, who’s worked for
UCLA at the Rose Bowl since 1999. “We’re exchanging numbers. It’s
just a big question mark right now. ... It’s been a sweet, sweet ride. We
don’t want to let go.”
Keith Myrick, known among coworkers as “Legend” for just three
absences through 20 years on the job, paused as Luke Duncan’s fourth-
quarter touchdown lifted the Rose Bowl out of its lull and UCLA out of a
shutout. Section 19 fans took the moment to snap photos with Myrick,
thanking him for his service.
“I love college football,” Myrick said. “If I don’t get to come back, I’m
really gonna miss it.”
In seats aligned with the UCLA end zone, Tracy McNiven sat beside her
mother-in-law, with her husband, son and six of his friends packing the
row behind. Around 9 p.m., McNiven stayed bundled in a UCLA scarf
and blue-and-gold fuzzy socks. The Rose Bowl had become the family’s
landmark.
“I don’t want to imagine watching UCLA football at SoFi,” she said.
“People don’t say their dream is to see a game at SoFi.”
The Rose Bowl lights bled into the dark hills, casting a glow over an ugly
UCLA performance. A man drifting toward the exit stopped only long
enough to offer the closing word.
“We’re out,” he said. “If they go, we’re out.”
And with that, he disappeared through Gate F, through which he might never pass again.
JUDGE'S COMMENTS: "An excellent combination of prose, vivid description and
traditional reporting, without overwhelming the reader. Relevant, timely
coverage of a controversial topic affecting several groups beyond the
sidelines (fans, employees, students, neighbors, etc.). I was transported
to the Rose Bowl's Lot H by the author and offered multiple perspectives to consider."
GORAWARA BIO: Ira, a UCLA graduate in June 2026, won first-place in Features and is perhaps the youngest person to claim a first-place in the FWAA Best Writing Contest in its 34-year history. She just moved to New York City and has joined The Athletic as a full-time staffer after working for the entity her senior year in Los Angeles. Growing up in Hong Kong, she had to acclimate herself to college football. But it didn' take Ira long after working for the Daily Bruin her first three years in Los Angeles (sports editor her junior year) and interning at the Los Angeles Times. She also recently won the prestigious 2026 Associated Press Sports Editor's Student Contest.
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