This is what structural neglect looks like when it puts on a team jersey instead of a police uniform. For years, ownership allowed the Coliseum to crumble, then pointed to the decay as proof that Oakland was unworthy of investment. Who was at that table when the future of Oakland baseball was decided, and whose voices were left outside the room? Now, after a unanimous vote in a closed room in 2023, they carry the franchise to Las Vegas and ask us to call it progress. When a city that is largely working class and Black and brown loses its last major men's team, that is not a neutral economic adjustment, it is a wound to community dignity. By contrast, hundreds of millions in public money are promised in Nevada to make a billionaire's vision shine brighter on the Strip. We have seen this pattern before: neglect a neighborhood, declare it blighted, then move opportunity elsewhere and tell people they should be grateful for televised nostalgia. Justice would mean a process where the voices in Oakland's bleachers counted as much as the owners' spreadsheets, where public dollars followed public need rather than private leverage. Until we build those structures, every cheer in a new Vegas stadium will echo with the silence of the people who were never invited to vote on losing their team.