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Running free during a game of catch on the empty field at SoFi Stadium is a fantasy most Angelenos will never experience. For comedians Jo Koy and Gabriel Iglesias, it’s just a warm-up to a dream that’s been a lifetime in the making.

Gripping the football with fingers covered in Filipino tribal tattoos extending in a sleeve up his arm, Koy looks across the expanse of emerald green turf at his son jogging toward the south end zone of the Inglewood stadium on a recent afternoon. “To be able to throw at SoFi is crazy,” Koy said with a sparkling grin of bright white veneers.

The 54-year-old comedian with a beard full of gray stubble drops back to pass, launching a tight spiral underneath SoFi’s massive technicolor halo scoreboard hovering above a sea of empty stands. Joseph Jr. — a wiry 22-year-old with a head full of curly dark brown hair — runs briskly toward the goal line with a black cast on his left arm. He raises his right arm just in time to scoop it into his chest for a touchdown. The imaginary crowd goes wild.

“Yes!!!” Koy shouts, his excitement echoing in the stadium. He jogs over to Joseph in his navy blue coverall jumpsuit and L.A. Dodgers cap to deliver a satisfying father-son chest bump.

A few yards away, Iglesias is watching Roka, his tiny black chihuahua, dart around the field like four pounds of rambunctious entitlement. The plus-sized comedian — better known as “Fluffy” — is sporting his typical loose-fitting vintage Hawaiian shirt, denim shorts and black flat cap. Whenever they stand together, the duo’s dynamic is like a modern-day Laurel and Hardy.

Nearly 70% of tickets for Koy and Iglesias’ SoFi show sold within days, making this the largest stadium stand-up performance to date.

(Christina House/Los Angeles Times)

“The fact that we’ve known each other as long as we have is wild … we’ve known each other since we both had hair,” Iglesias, 49, says as they both lift up their caps in unison, laughing and exposing their shiny bald heads.

On March 21, this stadium will be filled with more than 70,000 guests as the pair takes center stage at the Super Bowl of comedy — the largest stadium stand-up show to date. Koy and Iglesias are now part of a small fraternity of comics, including Kevin Hart, Dane Cook, Bill Burr and Larry the Cable Guy, who’ve sold out stadiums across the country.

The one-night-only show, which won’t be televised or recorded as a special, is meant to be one giant party for comedy fans who’ve supported Koy and Iglesias since their early days. The comics will be passing the mic back and forth throughout the night, which will feature special guests, surprise moments and plenty of other unplanned interruptions that will make for a roughly four-hour show. Though the L.A. comedy scene tends to exist in the shadow of Hollywood, this feat managed by two of its biggest names puts a historic spotlight on stand-up.

“It’s more sweet because it’s taken so long,” Iglesias said. “This wasn’t an overnight thing. Nowadays, everybody wants everything so fast. Between the two of us, we’ve got about 60 years of comedy experience.”

“It’s insane. I can’t explain it,” Koy adds, staring up at the stadium’s glass roof, preparing to crack it with decibels of laughter. “Every time we come in here and look up, I’m like, ‘There’s going to be a stage here the size of the end zone.’ We took the stage from the arenas that we normally play and injected steroids into it.”

For comedians who’ve witnessed their ascent, which now literally includes hands and feet cemented in front of TCL Chinese Theatre and a star for Fluffy on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, the journey has been incredible to watch.

“It’s huge for stand-up, it used to be just in dingy clubs and bars and always something small and intimate and kinda like an afterthought,” said fellow comedy star Tiffany Haddish, a longtime friend to both Koy and Iglesias. “To be honest I never thought comedy would be this big.”

Jay Leno, a confidant to Iglesias and the man who inspired him to start his own insane car collection and offered Koy his first late-night appearance on “The Tonight Show,” agrees that a show like this is a huge step for comedy.

“My attitude when I came to this town was if you can’t get in through the front door, go in the back door,” Leno said. “And they didn’t do it the traditional way, they got to where they are as comedians, one audience member at a time.”

For the two L.A. comedians, the historic milestone represents decades of work and signals comedy’s arrival in mainstream entertainment venues.

(Christina House/Los Angeles Times)

When the pair of arena-selling comics announced last year they’d be joining forces to perform at SoFi, the task of filling the massive concert venue and football stadium seemed laughable. But within a week, it clearly wasn’t a joke. Nearly 70% of the tickets were sold just days after going on sale. Now, weeks before the gig, the show is completely sold out with more seats being added. If there’s one person who is not necessarily surprised, it’s Iglesias. By his calculations — including his ability to sell out Dodger Stadium twice for the filming of his 2022 Netflix special, “Stadium Fluffy,” and Koy’s ability to sell out the Forum a record-setting six consecutive times (more than any other comedian) — the math checked out.

“At a certain point it’s like we’ve been doing [huge stand-up shows] for so many years, it becomes normal,” Iglesias said. “What do you do to change things? What do you do to grow? The worst thing that happens is it fails. But at least we know we tried it. Then we know what our ceiling is. But as of now, this isn’t the ceiling.”

Despite the logic, looking at the stadium’s massive seating chart during an initial meeting with the venue made the task feel akin to climbing Mt. Everest.

“SoFi is the size of like five Forums. That seating chart on a wall was the most discouraging thing I could possibly look at,” Koy said. “And then looking at the amount of money it was gonna cost us even before we sell one ticket. Me and Gabe should’ve been looking at that and been like, ‘What … are we thinking? Hell nah we ain’t doing this … !’”

It took more than a little convincing from Iglesias to get Koy on board. “[Jo] does not like change. I had to break down the math for him and I pushed it a lot,” Iglesias said. “And I’m glad we did because now that it’s sold out, the hard part is over. We just have to show up and deliver a kick-ass show. And then we can both celebrate after, crack a couple bottles and I know I’m taking a week off after that.”

Unlike a typical arena show, which takes several months to coordinate, their big night at SoFi required a full year of planning. The production and stage will be three times the size of the comedians’ normal stages and will be managed by the same team that produces stadium shows for acts like Los Bukis and Bad Bunny.

“It’s more sweet because it’s taken so long,” Iglesias said. “This wasn’t an overnight thing. Nowadays, everybody wants everything so fast. Between the two of us, we’ve got about 60 years of comedy experience.”

(Christina House/Los Angeles Times)

“It’s almost like a chessboard,” Iglesias said. “You got to do a bunch of moves in order to pull something like this off, it’s not just we’re gonna do it. This took a lot of planning, a lot of coordinating.”

When asked how the tickets could’ve possibly moved so fast, outside of typical avenues of good marketing and promotion, Koy says it was really comedy fans making a statement of support for them and for stand-up.

“There’s no such thing as marketing on this one, to me it’s a phenom,” he said, noting the pride both he and Iglesias have to see the excitement and support from local fans, especially Filipino and Latin communities across L.A. that have been a major part of their respective fanbases. “That type of reaction and that response to us saying we’re gonna be at SoFi is almost like a bragging right and it’s ‘our night, we’re gonna be there, I don’t care where we’re sitting.’”

The SoFi gig was conceived in February of 2024 during Koy’s sixth sold-out show at Kia Forum. In the hoopla of Koy breaking his own audience record at the venue, Iglesias crashed the show, presented his friend with a plaque and laid down the gauntlet in front of 17,500 fans. When Iglesias asked Koy if they should contemplate performing “across the street” together, the crowd erupted with excitement.

“Our agents and managers were like, ‘Are you sure you wanna do that?’’’ Iglesias said. “I think they missed a couple bonuses. But at the end of the day, it’s part of history.”

“That’s what’s beautiful about Gabe, he’s not scared to take on those big risks,” Koy said. “But the whole thing was a risk. We gotta alter our tour dates and sacrifice other opportunities to make this happen.”

“Every time we come in here and look up, I’m like, ‘There’s going to be a stage here the size of the end zone,‘” Koy said about the upcoming SoFi show on Mar. 21. “We took the stage from the arenas that we normally play and injected steroids into it.”

(Christina House/Los Angeles Times)

For Koy, a life of comedy was a risk inspired by his heroes while growing up in Tacoma, Wash. He traces it back to being 15 and seeing Eddie Murphy perform at Climate Pledge Arena during his “Raw” tour in Seattle. He remembers taking a panoramic look at the sold-out crowd roaring in the darkness before the leather-suited legend even took the stage. “I’m like, ‘Wait a minute, this guy got this many people in here?’ I just thought that was the most impossible thing,” Koy remembers. “And now I get to share this moment with my son and let him walk with me and let him see that this is possible.”

When Koy was moving up the comedy ranks under his real name Joseph Glenn Herbert, the thought of calling himself a comedian felt like a pipe dream. Koy, the son of a white father and Filipina mother, saw comedy as a way to channel an overactive personality and need to make people laugh into a career. Going from coffee shop open mics in Tacoma to clubs and casinos in Las Vegas in 1989, Koy scratched out a living doing random jobs to move to L.A. in 2001 with hopes of making it big.

Working at a bank or Nordstrom Rack offered some stability as he drove up and down Sunset Boulevard in his battered Honda Prelude with one broken headlight, looking for a way forward to pursue his passion. Haddish, his longtime friend, spent years working with Koy, who served as her mentor at the Laugh Factory. Between sets on stage, the two would often take breaks to fantasize about fame.

“Jo and I would sit outside of the Laugh Factory and have these conversations and we’d be eating hot dogs wrapped in bacon and we’d be dreaming about being in a big movie, playing big theaters and helping people heal through laughter,” Haddish said. “Now here we are.”

“At the end of the day, this is a big stamp. And I think it also lets other comics know, ‘Hey, man, step up your game. Let’s grow this,’” Iglesias said.

(Christina House/Los Angeles Times)

Pulling off a show of this magnitude is jaw-dropping to think about, Iglesias said, even after having achieved a similar feat just a few years ago at Dodgers Stadium where he filmed his special over the course of two shows. He also set a record for fines incurred by a performer for going over his allotted time slot (a hefty $250,000 for not leaving the venue until 4 a.m.). The SoFi gig leaves him only one shot to get it right. This time around, Iglesias feels infinitely less pressure despite the bigger venue.

“[Dodger Stadium] for me was grueling,” Iglesias said. “I didn’t know what to expect, I didn’t know how it was gonna go. Every day we were pulling our hair out trying to figure it out. Fortunately we were still able to pull it off and we learned a lot from it. This time around, believe me when I tell you the stress of this show is not even there.”

Iglesias, a native of Long Beach, has spent over 30 years rising up the comedy ranks. Among his accomplishments are seven major comedy specials, a TV show (“Mr. Iglesias”) and becoming the first Mexican American comic with a top-grossing worldwide tour. Like Koy, who also has seven major specials, Iglesias went through a lot of metamorphosis on stage prior to finding his calling as a gregarious, fun-loving comedian with a penchant for doing cartoon-ish voices.

Leno says one of the key factors in Fluffy’s mass appeal is his likability.

“The great thing about Gabriel is that the kindness comes across, there’s not a mean spirit in his body,” he said. “There’s a lot of comics who are really funny but people don’t like them because they think they’re mean-spirited. … When you watch Gabe even when he does something that’s not fall-down hysterical, you smile because you like him. … I find him a joy to watch.”

Much of what Iglesias learned about marketing himself was inspired by the WWE. The costumes, witty banter and theatrics of the wrestling ring influenced his consistent look and even allowed the name “Fluffy” to become his calling card.

Comedians Gabriel Iglesias, aka, “Fluffy,” in front, and Jo Koy are photographed at SoFi Stadium in Inglewood on February 10, 2026, ahead of their March 21st show.

(Christina House/Los Angeles Times)

“There is a certain level of pandemonium, as they say in wrestling, that’s needed to get people excited,” Iglesias said. “Then there’s the marketing and the way that you do it — so I did study wrestling a lot.”

Handing the kingdom of SoFi over to the court jesters for a night is a feat worthy of celebration.

“At the end of the day, this is a big stamp. And I think it also lets other comics know, ‘Hey, man, step up your game. Let’s grow this,’” Iglesias said. “And it’s not, ‘Step up your game,’ like we’re competing with each other. It’s more so like, ‘Let’s elevate the game of comedy.’”

Right now Koy feels plenty elevated, as though he’s floating every time he enters the stadium and looks up at the stands — like the night he saw Eddie Murphy all those years ago.

“You should’ve heard the whispers me and Gabe had to ourselves walking out of the stadium tunnel, like, ‘Yo, is this really happening?!’” Koy said with a megawatt smile. “Coming from an open mic night at a coffee house, never in my wildest dreams did I say, ‘Someday, a football stadium’ … we’re literally living our dreams right now.”

Kyiv, Ukraine – Hennady Kolesnik never expected the full-scale Russian invasion to last this long.

“These are the worst and longest years of my life,” the 71-year-old retired welder told Al Jazeera four years after the aggression that began on February 24, 2022.

In the first days of the war, he and many Ukrainians were afraid Kyiv would be lost, as well as the third of their France-sized nation that lies on the left, eastern bank of the Dnipro River.

Tens of thousands of Russian troops, including elite airborne units and motor rifle brigades, occupied north of the Kyiv region, while the Kremlin’s supporters triumphantly touted that the capital would be seized “within three days”.

Months later, “we were ecstatic about what we’d regained” after Russian forces withdrew from around Kyiv and were ousted from northern Ukraine, said Kolesnik, a grey-haired, pallid-faced and emaciated pensioner, clutching a cane.

He is recovering from a case of pneumonia that he feared he would not survive amid days-long power outages and disruptions of central heating caused by Russian drones and missiles during a cold spell, when temperatures plunged to as low as -23 degrees Celsius (-9.4 degrees Fahrenheit).

“But we’re still standing, and that’s the most important thing in a fight,” Kolesnik, who used to dabble in boxing, said with a smile.

His wife, Marina, 70, agreed: “Nobody expected us to last that long, and we’re still here.”

However, Ukraine’s 2023 counteroffensive failed to cut Moscow’s “land bridge” from western Russia to annexed Crimea, and Russian troops keep inching forward.

But their advance is glacial amid staggering losses. Last year, they occupied less than 5,000 square kilometres (1,930 sq miles), or about 0.8 percent of Ukraine’s total area, according to Ukrainian officials and Western analysts.

Overall, Russia controls about 19 percent of Ukraine’s territory.

“The front line froze like during World War I,” Nikolay Mitrokhin of Germany’s Bremen University told Al Jazeera. “So far, Russia doesn’t have enough forces or new technologies for a decisive and successful advance, but it can still squander thousands of [its soldiers’] lives.”

This month, Russian forces encountered a dual communication problem that reversed their progress.

Elon Musk’s SpaceX company shut down smuggled Starlink satellite internet terminals used by Russian soldiers, while Moscow’s efforts to block the Telegram messaging app further disrupted coordination.

Ukrainian forces counterattacked, regaining about 200 sq km (77 sq miles) in the eastern Zaporizhia and Dnipropetrovsk regions.

But in other front-line areas, the pressure is mounting.

Russian drones with attached optic fibre immune to jamming began reaching a heavily-fortified town in the southeastern Donetsk region.

“It has gotten a lot noisier. There are more outages; some locals are panicking,” Sviatoslav, a serviceman stationed in Kramatorsk, told Al Jazeera. He withheld his last name in accordance with wartime protocol.

Moscow insists Kyiv surrender Kramatorsk and the rest of Donetsk – about 1,000 sq km (386 sq miles).

What could affect Ukraine’s stance is further Russian strikes on energy infrastructure.

“Ukraine keeps the front line well, but the functionality of its energy system is hanging by a thread, which may affect a lot,” Mitrokhin said.

Eighty-eight percent of Ukrainians think Russia’s strikes are designed to “force them to capitulate”, according to a survey by the Kyiv International Sociology Institute (KMIS) conducted in late January.

Nevertheless, two-thirds of those polled said Ukraine’s armed forces should fight for “as long as it takes”.

“People en masse are more ready to keep resisting [the invasion] than to capitulate,” Svetlana Chunikhina, vice president of the Association of Political Psychologists, a Kyiv-based group, told Al Jazeera.

And even though there is a spike in depression, anxiety, and chronic stress among Ukrainians, there are no “abrupt jumps” in these conditions, she said.

“People adapt – including through depression – to the war’s horrible circumstances; people keep functioning,” she said.

Ukrainians still hope for a better future, she said.

Only one in five polled Ukrainians hopes the war will end this year, but two in three are sure that in 10 years, Ukraine will be a “thriving” member of the European Union.

“This is the literal realisation of the philosophic principle: ‘get ready for the worst, hope for the best,’” Chunikhina said.

However, brain fog and cynicism are on the rise, she said.

“For the Ukrainian public whose fight against the Russian aggression is largely fuelled by moral virtues – including high ones, such as altruism, patriotism, responsibility to future generations – cynicism could be really destructive,” she said.

News brings little relief.

United States President Donald Trump has so far failed to deliver on his pre-election pledge to end the war “in 24 hours”.

Meanwhile, Russian public figures who support the Kremlin still try to present the invasion as a step to “protect” Russian-speaking Ukrainians.

Moscow-based analyst Sergey Markov claims that the war began on February 23, 2014, when pro-Russian protesters began rallying in Crimea, urging the Kremlin to annex the Ukrainian peninsula.

“It was a peaceful uprising of the Russian people for freedom, peace and true democracy,” he wrote on Telegram on Monday.