From becoming the first Muslim Mayor to the first Asian-American Mayor to the first Democratic Socialist Mayor, Zohran Mamdani has shattered quite a few glass ceilings over his three weeks in charge of New York City. And on Sunday, he became the first-ever Mayor to hold a public watch party for the Africa Cup of Nations Final.
When I first received my invitation on Friday night, I wasn't convinced. Did I really want to wake up at the crack of dawn and go all the way up from Maryland to New York?
The AFCON 2025 finale delivered a jaw-dropping spectacle
But then I remembered July 19, 2019. I remembered walking through the Big Apple, watching as Senegalese rickshaw drivers gathered around to watch the game on their phone, and as Algerian street vendors cried in mirth seeing their team win the trophy after 29 years.
And I realized that, apart from the Prince Moulay Abdellah Stadium, there wasn't a better place in the world to watch the AFCON Final than New York City.
Excitement was already building in the Surrogate's Courthouse when Mamdani, donning an Arsenal kit beneath his blazer, walked onto the stage.
During his brief discourse, he reminisced on two of his favorite footballing memories: Morocco's run to the 2022 World Cup semi-finals and Senegal's win against France at the 2002 World Cup.
"Whether you are here today cheering for Sadio Man or Yassine Bounou and Brahim Daz, I know that what bonds so many of us today is a love of a continent where many of us come from, and a love of the game that gives so much of us life on a day-to-day basis. As a man who is proud to have been born in Kampala, Uganda, I am rooting for Africa today.
"While I know we wish we could be in Rabat 3,600 miles away, I am excited that we can take this moment to celebrate what it can look like to bring the world's game to New York City in just five months," Mamdani added.
"Today is a chance for us to enjoy this game, to enjoy the city that we call home, and to enjoy the places that we come from."
With every crunching tackle, every sight at goal, and every counter-attacking surge, the decibels continued to rise to the point where you couldn't really hear the TV commentary: instead, it was fuzzy background noise dominated by a commotion of languages ranging from Arabic to English and Amazigh to Wolof, as well as an ear-splitting drum beat.
And then came the deafening silence when, after a 16-minute delay, Brahim Daz finally stepped up to take the last-second penalty, only to squander his attempt with a horrific Panenka attempt.
Just like that, it seemed Morocco had missed their best chance to bring home Africa's most illustrious prize after 50 years. Shortly after, Pape Gueye scored the game's only goal to secure the win for Senegal.
As the final whistle sounded, I witnessed a stunning dissonance. Over in Rabat, both sets of nationalities disgraced themselves, be that Senegalese fans throwing chairs onto the pitch, or Moroccan ball boys attempting to assault Yehvann Diouf and steal douard Mendy's towel, or Walid Regragui and Pape Thiaw clashing at full-time, or Senegalese and Moroccan fans coming to blows in the press box.
Over on 31 Chambers Street, though, there was no such animosity. Instead, there was compassion and dignity. Moroccans congratulated and embraced their rival supporters, whilst Senegal fans helped wipe their counterparts' tears away and motivated them to keep going. There was an understanding that, while they are separated by many differences, they are unified by a common love of football and Africa.
For a fleeting moment, these fans no longer had to worry about being terrorized by a United States Immigration and Customs Enforcement agent, or about not seeing their relatives after the U.S. State Department paused immigrant visa processing for 75 different countries. For four hours, all they needed to focus on was the game that they love and cherish.
"Right now, we have to be vigilant and protect our neighbors," stated event co-host Christian Polanco to FourFourTwo. "That should be the priority -- getting people to the games, growing the game, and welcoming everybody. Those concepts seem to be at odds with this current World Cup, but I'm hoping we see some pushback with everything we're seeing right now."
As I walked through the snowy Manhattan night, I became overwhelmed by a sense of dja vu. It was just 125 years ago that my maternal ancestors walked these same streets after departing poverty-stricken Southern Italy, whilst my paternal ancestors fled the Russian Empire in the wake of pogroms aimed at expelling Jewish residents from the area.
They could have gone anywhere in the world, but instead, they settled in the same exact city. They were greeted by a copper-clad, torch-bearing woman, and a message that still rings true to this day: "Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door."
