‘‘Sometimes the fight takes awhile; that doesn’t mean we won’t win.’’ — Vice President — and presidential hopeful — Kamala D. Harris

‘‘Look what happened. Is this crazy? This is a movement like no one has seen before.’’ — President-elect Donald J. Trump

‘‘I’ve missed more than 9,000 shots in my career. I’ve lost almost 300 games. Twenty-six times I’ve been trusted to take the game-winning shot and missed. I’ve failed over and over and over again in my life. And that is why I succeed.’’ — GOAT Michael J. Jordan

In sports, it’s called an ‘‘I told you so.’’ Or, depending on the direction from where it comes, an ‘‘I warned you all.’’

Identity politics. Identity sports. American politics and sports exist independently of one another yet almost always — especially more recently as the lines and margins between the two have become more blurred and hazy — find themselves sharing the same bedroom without actually sleeping together.

Sports itself, specifically at the professional level, can be an oligarchy. Pugnacious in nature. Existing in a segregated state of sovereignty. Misappropriately demonizing ‘‘the enemy from within’’ for self-preservation. For control. For the win.

Sports, much like politics and elections, give us direct insight and incisive mindfulness into who we are as a people and a society, even when we aren’t functioning as either. In Trump’s ‘‘anything is possible’’ moment, we just witnessed what would be considered, nowadays in sports, a mini-dynasty. Two victories in his last three tries with an attempted government overthrow/insurrection in the middle.

More than anything, there exists an identifier between sports and the politics those sports seem to align with. There’s more red in the ‘‘Shield’’ than blue. More blue in the ‘‘Logo’’ than red. The MLB emblem? Perfectly imbalanced. RFK Jr. It’s all symbolism, but it’s too often accurate as hell.

Sports, less polarizing and divisive than the politics they serve. Similar energies, same engagement. Loyalty might not matter, but it carries powerful and empowering weight. Evil empires often run rampant in both.

As Andscape.com reminded us with its post-election post Wednesday on Twitter/X of a piece we did upon Obama’s election: ‘‘Obama’s impact on the game encouraged NBA players to do more on and off the court.’’

Welcome now to the other side.

The NFL won. WWE won. The PGA Tour/LIV Golf won. Dana White won. Barstool Sports won. Outkick won. Madison Square Garden won. Tom Brady won. Colin Cowherd won. Jason Whitlock won. Herschel Walker won. Curt Schilling won. Nick Bosa won. Make Sports Great Again, essentially, won.

Much like in politics, true democracy in sports takes a backseat to power and wealth — or plays the game those in power and with wealth decide how it shall be played. Sports will stand as the reminder that, with all the power Taylor Swift carries with her in global pop culture and the business of entertainment, bringing a few hundred million more eyes to the NFL because of her romance with Chiefs tight end Travis Kelce, her very loud endorsement for Kamala Harris didn’t and doesn’t carry the weight of Bosa’s MAGA-cap flex on ‘‘Sunday Night Football’’ or Patrick Mahomes wife, Brittany — not Patrick Mahomes — in speaking to just how the real NFL fan base rolls.

‘‘Shut up and dribble’’ flipped to ‘‘Shut up and vote.’’ While the NBA gave its fans a ‘‘day off’’ to prioritize their right to speak their political alignments through paper or electronic ballots, the NFL, in a far less quiet and more powerful manner, dog-whistled its base to seize the opportunity to prove that its power is far more than just its popularity, game attendance and TV ratings. Its s— worked.

In 1973, famed sociologist Dr. Harry Edwards wrote in his book ‘‘Sociology of Sport’’: ‘‘What is happening in sports today results from the impact of the 20th century, with its affluence, its speed, its mass communications — all of which have combined to create a much smaller world and new definitions of reality. As tradition has become less and less relevant to contemporary perceptions of reality, tremendous strains have resulted.’’

In the wake of Nov. 5, 2024, many will return to sports for the escape, not realizing that there really is none. The camouflaged-in-plain-sight connectivity of both governances will only amplify as Trump’s term builds absolutism, as each will be harder to distinguish from one another. ‘‘Gladiator III’’ unscripted, in real, modern time.

What we have to do in this American life of ours is stop forever equating winning with greatness, rightness or righteousness, truth and identity. Winning is victory, often eristic, not perfection. Not a provocation of triumphalism. Not superiority. Not absolute.

In sports, we love a good comeback. And regardless of how you individually or as a voting bloc feel about Trump’s presidential comeback, know this: Fait accompli is real. Really, really real in this country and in the politics that speak for the sports that shape our lives. Defeated we stand. Let the games begin.