Rams and Chargers fans still debating over the

Tangled shades of blue flooded the SoFi Stadium concourse. Powder blue jerseys brushed past royal blue horns in burger strains. Bolt-painted faces mingled with fans in throwback Rams gold.

“Whose house?” blared the stadium announcer.

“Rams House!” a lot of the crowd replied.

Though in pockets of powder blue, the response got here with a shrug, or with nothing at all.

That query — whose staff actually owns the Los Angeles professional soccer market — lingers almost a decade after the Rams and the Chargers settled into the metropolis’s soccer panorama.

The Rams, who received a Super Bowl title in 2022, sport a polish that no argument over fan bases can scrub away. Meanwhile, the Chargers’ growing base insists this is just as a lot their city.

During the Rams’ 23-22 victory Saturday, the rating felt secondary to the fans staking out territory.

Jerry Quinones, 59, is a four-year Chargers season ticket holder. A retired first responder, he hardly ever misses a home sport. But even from his normal seat in part 330, he acknowledged the nuance between the groups.

“Rams got more of a family base,” Quinones said. “I wish the Chargers [would] have it, but they don’t. They got cheerleaders, we don’t.”

Three ranges below, on the field-level patio behind the end zone, Rams fan Gill Marquez, 25, yanked proudly at his Britain Covey jersey and repeated, “We run L.A.”

“It means a lot to be a Rams fan,” Marquez said. “I feel it deep down in my soul. We brought a championship to L.A. and that made a great point that we’re the real team here.”

Not every Rams fan put it fairly so forcefully. Bob Gerard said he moved to L.A. from Chicago and hitched onto the Rams when they returned in 2016. The 58-year-old, who donned a Puka Nacua jersey, joked that he’s nice letting the Chargers crash at SoFi — so long as the association isn’t mistaken.

“It’s actually the Rams’ house,” Gerard said, “we just kind of Airbnb it out to [the Chargers] every other weekend.’”

Chase Hay, outfitted in a palm-patterned Hawaiian shirt splashed with Rams logos, cut a looser determine while chatting with Chargers and Rams fans at the discipline degree bar. For Hay, 36, the Rams are a household custom more than a rivalry — a staff he caught with because of his grandfather, and one he believes can share the metropolis without dropping its roots.

“Being NFC and AFC, there’s a lot of room to coexist with both of us here — until we’re playing each other,” said Hay, a advertising skilled. “But I don’t see the Chargers as a threat.”

Eric Robles, 22, said his reply to “Whose house?” comes from two hours south. The San Diego native, carrying a Justin Herbert jersey, stood as Rams fans cracked jokes around him, his lifelong allegiance rooted in the Chargers’ past — and Herbert, who he said is the staff’s future.

Herbert, the Chargers’ star quarterback, is a resounding motive for Chargers fans to trust in the trajectory of their membership.

Ed Kim had a powder-blue flag wrapped around his shoulders, the Chargers’ lightning bolt stretching across his back.

“We’re the greatest organization in Los Angeles right now,” he said. “The Rams are the Clippers of Los Angeles — they’re second fiddle to us. Because we have the greatest quarterback in Justin Herbert. So basically, we’re the alphas.”

If Kim introduced conviction, Angel Herrera introduced theater: he was dressed in a gleaming blue-and-gold luchador masks, a flowing Chargers cape and a thick chain of metallic beads in Chargers colours. A heavy WWE championship belt hung over his No. 97 jersey.

By halftime, he had posed for close to 30 photographs with younger Chargers fans.

Chargers fan Angel Herrera says L.A. is a Rams city, but is hopeful Justin Herbert can lead the Chargers to greatness.

(Ira Gorawara / Los Angeles Times)

“Honest truth, L.A. is more of a Rams town — only because they recently won,” Herrera said. “It’s gonna be a long route before more Chargers fans come around, but it’s gonna happen. We got Herbert, so it’s not gonna be that long.”

As fans streamed out of the stadium, the debate continued. Some would possibly level to Super Bowl banners and shout, “Rams House!” Others would possibly shake their heads, trusting San Diego roots and Herbert’s promise.

For now, it’s a home divided, but one with room for all.