It’s World Series season in Los Angeles, and you can feel it in the air. People are wearing Dodgers hats and T-shirts, and conversations about an 18-inning game have replaced small talk about weekend plans while waiting for your coffee to brew in the break room. You can feel the collective energy — the pride, the tension, the sense of belonging that comes from rooting for something bigger than yourself.
But beneath all that excitement lies something fascinating about human nature.
The way people rally behind a team — the way they defend it, celebrate it, and sometimes lose sleep over it — reveals how easily our beliefs can become extensions of our identity. Whether it’s baseball, politics, spirituality, or self-image, we all have something we cling to for a sense of meaning and belonging.
That’s where a mental model I love — adapted from Don Miguel Ruiz Jr.’s “The Five Levels of Attachment” — offers a powerful lens. It helps us see how our attachments to beliefs shape our identity, and how tightening our grip on them can trap us in ego.
And since the Dodgers are giving us plenty to talk about this week, let’s use baseball to break it down.
Level 1: The Observer — Authentic Self
You’re at Dodger Stadium just for the atmosphere. You love the energy, the peanuts and crackerjacks, the wave rippling through the crowd. You don’t care who wins—you’re here for the vibes.
At this level, your sense of self isn’t attached to the outcome. You can engage with life without needing to possess it.
Level 2: The Supporter — Preference
You start rooting for the Dodgers because your friends do. You buy a shirt, learn a few players’ names, and cheer when they hit a home run. If they lose, you shrug—it was still a good night out. You don’t take it personally when they lose.
Here, you enjoy the story without identifying with it. You have a preference, not a dependency. Your preference adds flavor to life but doesn’t define it. You can play the game without needing to win.
Level 3: The Loyalist — Identity
This is where things start to get personal. You’ve got season tickets, a favorite player, and strong opinions about the lineup. A tough loss ruins your night. A bad call sparks debate.
At this level, you’ve internalized the belief: “I’m a Dodgers fan.” Your team’s performance now reflects on you.
Level 4: The Zealot — Internalization
You can’t stand rival fans. Every umpire call feels like a personal attack. You defend the Dodgers online as if your worth depends on it. Winning means validation; losing feels like humiliation.
Now, your belief isn’t something you hold—it’s something that holds you. Your self-worth rises and falls with your team’s performance. When your self-worth hinges on external performance, you’re no longer in relationship with your belief—you’re enslaved by it.
Level 5: The Fanatic — Fusion
At this level, the team is your identity. Everything you do or say revolves around proving your loyalty. Relationships fracture if others don’t share your enthusiasm. You’re not just rooting for a team—you’re defending your ego.
At this level, the belief system owns you. You’ve lost sight of where the team ends and you begin.
Beyond Baseball
Our “teams” show up everywhere. Sometimes they’re the roles we play—the caretaker, the achiever, the misunderstood one. Sometimes they’re our ideologies, faiths, or relationship labels.
The more we fuse our identity with these roles or beliefs, the more fragile we become. A challenge to the belief feels like a challenge to our existence. That’s when arguments escalate, curiosity dies, and ego takes the mound.
Authentic identity, on the other hand, is fluid. It doesn’t fear challenge—it invites it. It can say, “I love the Dodgers, but I’m not defined by them.” Or “I value this belief, but I’m open to learning something new.”
That’s where freedom lives.
How to Loosen Your Grip
If you’ve noticed yourself getting defensive about your “team”—whatever that looks like—try detaching one level at a time:
- Notice when you’re protecting instead of connecting.
Ask yourself: Am I trying to be right or to relate? - Pause before reacting.
Not every pitch deserves a swing. Sometimes awareness is the real win. - Trace the belief back to its origin.
Who taught you this? Does it still align with who you are now? - Meet the emotion underneath.
What are you afraid of losing if you let this belief soften? - Ask reflective questions.
- Who would I be without this story?
- What part of me feels unsafe without it?
- What new possibility opens when I let go?
Detachment doesn’t mean indifference—it means reclaiming the freedom to choose what you believe on purpose.
The Real Win
When we stop clinging to our beliefs the way fans cling to their teams, we create space to rediscover who we are beyond them. We become capable of loving people who see the world differently, of changing our minds without shame, of living from truth rather than ego.We may not all be on the same team, but we’re still playing the same game: trying to feel seen, safe, and significant. The real mastery isn’t about changing teams; it’s about changing how we play.
