"HeisMendoza": Migration, Diplomacy, and the Global Reality of College Sport

When Mendoza became the first Cuban American athlete to win the Heisman Trophy, it marked a historic moment in college football.

But almost immediately, his achievement became more than just a headline.

Since the ceremony, nearly every major sports outlet has returned to the same video clip.

Mendoza turned toward his grandparents and spoke to them in Spanish on one of the biggest stages in American sport. In a space that usually feels scripted and is overwhelmingly English-only, this scene stands out. 

It was intimate. It was cultural. It was unapologetic. 

Mendoza reminded the audience that this achievement was not an individual accomplishment. It was a generational win.

"Although I grew up in America, my four grandparents are all from Cuba," he said. "I had the opportunity to go there and that was important to me. I credit the love to my grandparents and the Hispanic community."

Yet still, how did a routine Heisman ceremony with a few seconds of Spanish language become such a big deal?

Mendoza wins 2025 Heisman Trophy - Todd Van Emst/ Heisman Trust/Pool Image

Because it revealed something college sport rarely names.

Let’s walk.

Mendoza’s story is rooted in migration. All four of his grandparents immigrated to the United States from Cuba. While Mendoza himself is U.S.-born, his pathway cannot be separated from a family history shaped by displacement, political disruption, and resettlement. The history of U.S.-Cuba relations is complicated and defined by a blockade, exile, and restricted mobility.

“HeisMendoza” carries meaning far beyond college sport.

This was sports diplomacy in real time. 

Sport has long served as a soft-power bridge where formal diplomacy falls short. A Cuban American athlete holding one of the most iconic trophies in American sport offered a shared moment of pride, visibility, and possibility.

I am curious to see how Indiana University chooses to engage the Cuban diaspora community in the near and distant future. Not as a branding exercise, but as an acknowledgement of the cultural, historical, and family ties that Mendoza brought into focus.

When sport places an institution in a position of cultural visibility, it also creates an opportunity for relationship. 

This also matters because internationalization in college athletics is still too narrowly defined. 

We count international athletes. We monitor visas. We celebrate flags on uniforms.

Mendoza’s moment reminds us that internationalization is not only about borders and visas, but about diaspora and global histories carried through generations.

This lens is especially important given how rare Latino recognition has been at college football’s highest individual level. Since 1935, the Heisman Trophy has been awarded to the top player in college football and is widely considered the most prestigious award in the sport. Before Mendoza, there had been only two Latino winners, both tied to Mexican heritage: Jim Plunkett (Stanford, 1970), Bryce Young (Alabama, 2021). This rarity reflects deeper patterns about who is recruited, developed, promoted, and ultimately celebrated at the highest levels of college football. 

Mendoza’s distinction, rooted in his Cuban American lineage, adds another layer. It disrupts assumptions about where Cuban and Hispanic athletic excellence belongs. For decades, their identities and perceived value in U.S. sports have been tied almost exclusively to baseball and soccer. His Heisman-winning performance in American football draws new eyes to a different pathway in sport and should expand imagination for Hispanic and Latino youth interested in pursuing American football at the collegiate level. This possibility aligns with the global growth of flag football as an accessible entry point into the game.

Mendoza’s story also invites us to widen the lens for how we think about college sport.

Mendoza Family

While he is not an international athlete, his visibility opens space to examine how college sport engages other athletes whose lives are shaped by migration, diaspora, and transnational realities.

I invite us to consider the following questions: 

• How many Hispanic and Latino international athletes are currently competing in Division I football and across the NCAA while navigating limited immigration guidance or unequal academic support?

• How often are athletes with transnational ties moving through career development systems built on strictly domestic assumptions?

• How frequently are global and diasporic athletes celebrated for performance while quietly managing cultural isolation or uncertain post-graduation pathways?

  
  

College sport benefits enormously from international and diasporic identities through performance, branding, and revenue, yet its support structures are insufficient to helping them navigate complex systems and prepare for life after competition.

Mendoza is another reminder that college sport is already global.

I look forward to celebrating the day when an international football athlete lifts the trophy on that Saturday night in New York City – fully supported by systems that recognize their humanity and prepare them for life after competition.

It’s happening. We walking!

TFB