Miami Dolphins: How Immigrant Families Weave Fandom Into Their Cultural Heritage and Community Ties

In Miami’s Little Haiti neighborhood, every Sunday, the Jean family gathers around their living room TV—grandma Marie, dad Jean-Luc, mom Sophia, and 10-year-old twins, Leo and Luna—to watch the Miami Dolphins. The room smells like griot (fried pork) and pikliz (spicy slaw), Marie’s signature Haitian dishes, which she’s been making for Dolphins games since she moved to Miami in 1998. On the wall hangs a framed photo: Marie, then 30, at her first Dolphins game, holding a sign that reads “Haiti Loves the Fins” in both Creole and English. Next to it is a photo of Jean-Luc as a teen, wearing a Dan Marino jersey to his high school prom, and a recent snapshot of Leo and Luna in mini aqua-and-orange soccer cleats (their first Dolphins gear). This scene is a microcosm of how Miami’s immigrant families have integrated Dolphins fandom into their cultural identities—turning game days into a blend of heritage, tradition, and shared passion. Miami Dolphins: How Immigrant Families Weave Fandom Into Their Cultural Heritage and Community Ties captures this unique dynamic: for Miami’s diverse immigrant communities—Haitian, Cuban, Colombian, Jamaican, and more—the Dolphins aren’t just a football team; they’re a bridge between their home countries and their new lives in the U.S., a way to pass down cultural values while building roots in Miami. Marie, who left Haiti during political unrest, says the Dolphins gave her a sense of belonging when she felt adrift. “When I first came here, I didn’t speak much English, but I could understand the joy of a touchdown,” she says, stirring a pot of griot. “Watching games with other Haitian families helped me make friends. Now, making this food for my kids and grandkids? It’s my way of saying, ‘This is our home, and this team is part of who we are.’” The Jean family’s rituals are deeply tied to their Haitian heritage: before kickoff, they say a prayer in Creole for the team; during halftime, Marie teaches Leo and Luna Haitian folk songs while they decorate Dolphins-themed masks (a nod to Haitian carnival traditions); and after a win, they dance to compas music (a Haitian genre) while waving aqua-and-orange flags. These traditions aren’t just for fun—they’re a way to pass down culture through fandom. “Leo asked me why we make griot for games,” Jean-Luc says. “I told him, ‘Because your grandma brought this from Haiti, and the Dolphins brought us together here. It’s our story.’” This blend of culture and fandom is visible across Miami’s immigrant neighborhoods. In Little Havana, Cuban families host “fútbol y Fútbol Americano” tailgates—watching a Spanish-language soccer game before the Dolphins kickoff, serving medianoche sandwiches and café con leche. In Hialeah’s Colombian community, families play a Dolphins-themed version of tejo (a traditional Colombian throwing game) before games, with prizes like autographed Tyreek Hill jerseys. The Dolphins organization has recognized this, launching the “Fins for All” initiative—a series of community events that celebrate immigrant cultures through fandom. At a recent “Haitian Heritage Game Day” at Hard Rock Stadium, fans enjoyed Haitian music, dance performances, and Creole-speaking Dolphins legends (like former player Pierre Thomas, who is of Haitian descent) sharing their stories. “Immigrant families are the heart of Miami, and they’re the heart of our fanbase,” says Dolphins community relations director Ana Rodriguez. “We want them to know the Dolphins see them—to see their culture, their traditions, and their love for this team.” For the Jean family and thousands like them, the Dolphins are more than a sports franchise—they’re a thread in the fabric of their cultural heritage, linking past and present, home and homeland.

Miami’s Cuban-American community, one of the largest and longest-established immigrant groups in the city, has a decades-long history of weaving Dolphins fandom into its cultural identity—turning game days into a celebration of both Cuban heritage and American belonging. In the heart of Little Havana, 82-year-old Carlos Ruiz has been hosting Dolphins watch parties in his backyard since 1975, the year he fled Cuba with his wife, Maria. The parties are legendary: Ruiz grills lechón asado (roast pork) over a wood fire, Maria makes arroz con gandules (rice with pigeon peas), and friends and family—some who knew each other in Cuba, others who met at the parties—gather around a vintage TV to cheer for the Fins. On the fence, there’s a sign that reads “Cuba y Dolphins: Unidos Forever” (Cuba and Dolphins: United Forever), and Ruiz’s walls are covered in photos: his son, Carlos Jr., in a Dolphins jersey at his 1980s quinceañera; his granddaughter, Sofia, at her first Dolphins game, holding a Cuban flag and a team pennant; and Ruiz with former Dolphins player Nat Moore, who learned to speak Spanish at Ruiz’s parties. “When we first came here, we had nothing but each other and a love for this team,” Ruiz says, flipping burgers. “The Dolphins gave us something to celebrate when we were homesick. Now, these parties are our way of keeping Cuban culture alive for the kids—and keeping the Dolphins alive in our hearts.” The Cuban-American community’s love for the Dolphins runs deep, rooted in shared values of resilience, family, and community—values that mirror the team’s own legacy. For many Cuban-Americans, the Dolphins’ 1972 “Perfect Season” became a symbol of hope during a difficult time: it was a year when many Cubans were adjusting to life in the U.S., and the team’s undefeated run offered a sense of pride and unity. “My dad used to say, ‘If the Dolphins can be perfect, we can build a perfect life here,’” says Sofia Ruiz, 28, who now helps her grandpa host the parties. Today, Cuban-American fans continue to blend their heritage with Dolphins fandom. At Hard Rock Stadium, you’ll see fans waving Cuban flags alongside Dolphins banners; concession stands sell “Fins Fritas” (a twist on Cuban frita burgers, with aqua-colored buns); and the team’s Spanish-language broadcasts often include Cuban slang and references to Cuban culture. The Dolphins have also embraced Cuban traditions, hosting an annual “Cuban Heritage Night” that features performances by Cuban son bands, cigar-rolling demonstrations (for adults), and a “Dominoes and Dolphins” tent (dominoes are a beloved Cuban pastime). At the 2024 event, former Dolphins quarterback Dan Marino even learned to play dominoes with Cuban-American fans, laughing as he tried to keep up with their fast-paced strategy. “This isn’t just a game—it’s a celebration of who we are,” says Maria Ruiz, passing out plates of arroz con gandules. Miami Dolphins: How Immigrant Families Weave Fandom Into Their Cultural Heritage and Community Ties highlights how the Cuban-American community has made the Dolphins their own—turning fandom into a way to honor their roots while building a future in Miami. For Ruiz and his family, the backyard parties aren’t just about watching football—they’re about keeping their Cuban identity alive, one touchdown and one lechón asado at a time.

Miami’s Caribbean-American community—including Jamaican, Trinidadian, and Barbadian families—has also forged a deep bond with the Miami Dolphins, blending vibrant Caribbean traditions with fandom to create a unique and joyful game-day experience. In North Miami, a Jamaican-American neighborhood known as “Little Kingston,” the Brown family’s Dolphins watch parties are a weekly tradition that draws dozens of friends and neighbors. Mom Sharon Brown bakes jerk chicken and festivals (sweet fried dough), dad Michael mixes rum punch (spiked for adults, non-alcoholic for kids), and everyone dances to reggae and dancehall music during commercial breaks. The highlight of the party is the “Dolphins Reggae Chant,” a custom Michael created: to the beat of Bob Marley’s “One Love,” guests sing, “We are the Fins, strong and true, Miami’s pride, we cheer for you!” “In Jamaica, we love sports—cricket, soccer, track—and when we moved here, the Dolphins felt like a natural fit,” Sharon says, handing a plate of jerk chicken to a neighbor. “The energy, the teamwork, the joy—it’s just like the Caribbean spirit. We wanted to bring that spirit to our game days.” For Caribbean-American families, the Dolphins represent more than a team—they represent a sense of community. Many Jamaican-American fans, for example, connect with the team’s speed and agility (a hallmark of Caribbean athletes) and see players like Tyreek Hill (known for his lightning-fast runs) as reflections of their own cultural pride. “Hill’s speed? That’s Jamaican speed!” laughs Michael, who grew up watching Usain Bolt in Jamaica. “When he scores a touchdown, we feel like we’re scoring too—like we’re part of his success.” The Dolphins organization has embraced the Caribbean-American community, hosting a “Caribbean Heritage Game” that features steel drum bands, limbo dancers, and Caribbean food vendors. At the 2024 game, former Dolphins player Patrick Surtain II (who has Jamaican roots) joined a steel drum band to play the team’s fight song, and fans were treated to free jerk chicken samples from local Jamaican restaurants. “We want every fan to feel like the Dolphins are their team—no matter where they’re from,” says Dolphins president Tom Garfinkel. “The Caribbean-American community brings so much energy and joy to our games, and we’re proud to celebrate their culture with them.” For the Brown family’s 12-year-old daughter, Maya, the parties are a way to learn about her Jamaican heritage while connecting with her Miami home. “I love dancing to reggae with my grandma, and I love cheering for the Dolphins with my friends,” she says, wearing a Dolphins jersey with her last name stitched on the back. “It makes me proud to be Jamaican and proud to be a Miami fan.” Miami Dolphins: How Immigrant Families Weave Fandom Into Their Cultural Heritage and Community Ties underscores how Caribbean-American families have turned Dolphins fandom into a celebration of their culture—using music, food, and tradition to create a sense of belonging that spans borders. For the Browns and thousands like them, the Dolphins aren’t just a football team—they’re a bridge between Jamaica and Miami, between past and present, between family and community.

The multicultural Miami Dolphins have taken intentional steps to support immigrant families, creating programs that make fandom accessible and inclusive—ensuring that no matter where a family is from, they feel welcome as part of the Dolphins community. One of the most impactful initiatives is the “Fins for New Americans” program, which partners with local immigrant advocacy groups to provide free Dolphins tickets, bilingual game-day guides (in Spanish, Creole, Haitian Creole, and Portuguese), and English-language classes focused on sports terminology. The program was launched in 2023 after the Dolphins noticed that many immigrant families were hesitant to attend games due to language barriers or cost. “We had a Haitian-American mom tell us she didn’t want to go to a game because she was worried she wouldn’t understand the rules or the announcements,” says Ana Rodriguez. “That’s when we knew we needed to do more—to meet families where they are.” Through “Fins for New Americans,” over 5,000 immigrant families have attended Dolphins games, and the bilingual guides have become a hit—featuring simple explanations of football rules, key player bios, and even phrases like “Touchdown!” translated into multiple languages. The English classes, taught by Dolphins staff and volunteers, use football as a way to teach vocabulary: students learn words like “quarterback,” “end zone,” and “cheer” while talking about their favorite players. “My son, Leo, took the class, and now he’s teaching me English using Dolphins terms,” says Marie Jean, the Haitian-American grandma from Little Haiti. “He says, ‘Grandma, “sack” means the defense tackles the quarterback!’ It’s fun, and it brings us closer.” The Dolphins have also hired multilingual staff and cheerleaders—including Creole, Spanish, and Portuguese speakers—to help fans feel more comfortable at games. At Hard Rock Stadium, there are “Language Help Desks” where fans can ask questions in their native language, and the jumbotron features translations of key announcements (like “Please remain in your seats during the play”) in multiple languages. For immigrant families, these small gestures make a big difference. “When I heard a cheerleader speak Creole at the game, I almost cried,” says Marie. “It felt like the team was saying, ‘We see you. You belong here.’” The multicultural Miami Dolphins have also partnered with local immigrant-owned businesses to create “Dolphins Heritage Packs”—gift bags filled with team gear and products from immigrant-owned shops (like Haitian coffee, Cuban cigars, and Jamaican jerk seasoning). The packs are given to families in the “Fins for New Americans” program, supporting both immigrant families and local businesses. “We want to lift up the entire immigrant community—not just through fandom, but through economic support,” Rodriguez says. Miami Dolphins: How Immigrant Families Weave Fandom Into Their Cultural Heritage and Community Ties showcases how the team’s commitment to inclusivity has turned immigrant families into some of its most loyal fans. By speaking their languages, celebrating their cultures, and removing barriers to fandom, the Dolphins have become more than a team—they’ve become a symbol of welcome for Miami’s newest residents.

Immigrant families have also turned their Dolphins fandom into a force for good, using their shared love for the team to support other immigrant communities in need—creating a cycle of generosity that reflects both their cultural values and their commitment to the Dolphins. In Little Havana, the Ruiz family organizes an annual “Dolphins for Cuba” drive, collecting donations of food, clothing, and medical supplies to send to families in Cuba. The drive is timed to coincide with the Dolphins’ home opener, and fans who donate get a free Dolphins-themed Cuban flag pin. “In Cuban culture, we believe in helping each other—‘la comunidad’ (the community) is everything,” says Carlos Ruiz Jr. “The Dolphins bring us together, so why not use that unity to help others? It’s what the team would want.” Similarly, in Little Haiti, the Jean family hosts a “Fins for Haiti” fundraiser every year, where fans pay to attend a Dolphins watch party (with Haitian food and music) and all proceeds go to Haitian relief organizations. In 2024, the fundraiser raised over $15,000 to help rebuild schools in Haiti damaged by an earthquake. “When we watch the Dolphins, we see a team that works together to win,” says Jean-Luc Jean. “We wanted to work together to help our home country. That’s the Dolphins way—and that’s the Haitian way.” These efforts have caught the attention of the Dolphins organization, which now partners with immigrant families on their charitable projects. The team donates autographed gear to auction off, and players often attend the fundraisers to show their support. At the 2024 “Fins for Haiti” event, Dolphins wide receiver Jaylen Waddle joined the Jean family for a photo op and spoke about the importance of community. “You guys are doing something amazing—using your love for this team to help others,” Waddle said. “That’s what being a Dolphin is all about.” For immigrant families, these charitable efforts are a way to honor both their heritage and their fandom. They’re a way to say, “We’re proud to be from Haiti/Cuba/Jamaica, and we’re proud to be Dolphins fans—and we’re going to use that pride to make a difference.” Miami Dolphins: How Immigrant Families Weave Fandom Into Their Cultural Heritage and Community Ties highlights how these families have turned fandom into activism, using the Dolphins as a platform to support their home countries and their local communities. For the community-driven Miami Dolphins immigrant fans, this is the true meaning of being part of the team: not just cheering on Sundays, but working together to make the world a better place—one touchdown, one fundraiser, one act of kindness at a time.

As the Miami Dolphins look to the future, the bond between immigrant families and the team continues to grow stronger—shaped by shared traditions, mutual respect, and a commitment to building a more inclusive Miami. For the Jean family, the Ruiz family, the Brown family, and thousands like them, the Dolphins are no longer just a football team—they’re a part of their cultural identity, a way to pass down heritage to their kids, and a symbol of the American dream. “My grandma came here with nothing, and now we’re a family that celebrates Haitian culture and Dolphins fandom together,” says Leo Jean, 10, as he decorates a Dolphins mask with Creole patterns. “Someday, I’ll teach my kids to make griot and cheer for the Fins. It’s our legacy.” The Dolphins organization is committed to nurturing this legacy, with plans to expand the “Fins for New Americans” program to include more languages (like Arabic and Vietnamese, reflecting Miami’s growing immigrant communities) and to host more heritage game days (including a “Vietnamese Heritage Game” and a “Nigerian Heritage Game” in 2025). The team is also working on a “Dolphins Immigrant Legacy Project,” a digital archive where immigrant families can share their stories of how the Dolphins became part of their cultural journey. “We want to preserve these stories—to let future generations know how immigrant families helped shape the Dolphins’ legacy,” says Ana Rodriguez. For Miami, a city built by immigrants, the Dolphins’ connection to these families is a reflection of what makes the city great: its diversity, its resilience, and its ability to turn differences into strength. On any given Sunday, at Hard Rock Stadium or in a backyard in Little Havana, you’ll see it: a Haitian family praying in Creole, a Cuban family grilling lechón, a Jamaican family dancing to reggae—all united by their love for the Miami Dolphins. Miami Dolphins: How Immigrant Families Weave Fandom Into Their Cultural Heritage and Community Ties captures this magic—the moment when culture and fandom collide, when home and homeland come together, and when a football team becomes a family. For the Dolphins and their immigrant fans, this is just the beginning. As more families move to Miami, as more traditions are woven into game days, and as more stories are shared, the bond between immigrant families and the team will only grow—stronger, deeper, and more vibrant than ever before. Because in Miami, and for the Miami Dolphins, diversity isn’t just celebrated—it’s the heart of the team.