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The last time Angelenos sacked an incumbent city attorney in the primaries, almost 30% of them were unemployed.

That was May 2, 1933, the nadir of the Great Depression, when sprawling encampments blanketed downtown, King Kong ruled movie theaters and violent crime reached a fever pitch not seen again for almost half a century.

Incumbent City Atty. Hydee Feldstein Soto’s near-certain defeat on Tuesday may have little in common with Erwin P. Werner’s primary loss 93 years ago, but themes of Depression-era Los Angeles echo through the contest.

Marissa Roy, a deputy attorney general with the California Department of Justice who leads the race with ballots still being counted, wooed voters with shoe-leather and social media savvy, promising to use the office to fight for wage workers and tenants. But it was the city’s powerful unions and its increasingly democratic socialist bloc that propelled her to the top spot, mirroring the coalition that drove California’s sharp left turn in the early 1930s.

Meanwhile, county prosecutor John McKinney tapped into voter frustration with homeless encampments, a blighted downtown and general distrust of City Hall to pull off a last-minute heist of the second runoff spot. McKinney only started campaigning in earnest five weeks ago, but managed to win votes with a tough-on-crime campaign — even as some categories of city crime have dipped to historic lows.

L.A. Mayor Karen Bass, left, shares a laugh with L.A. City Atty. Hydee Feldstein Soto, right, at Avance Democratic Club’s politics and tacos event on May 16.

(Christina House / Los Angeles Times)

As of Thursday morning, Roy had nearly double the number of votes of Feldstein Soto. McKinney led the incumbent by 13 percentage points for the second runoff slot. The race has not yet been called, but Feldstein Soto issued a statement effectively conceding the race Wednesday morning. She acknowledged that “the voters had spoken” and referenced “her successor’s administration.”

Her campaign did not respond to a request for comment for this story.

The ouster of Feldstein Soto would be nearly unprecedented. Werner’s 1933 loss is the only similar instance since the city adopted its current primary ballot process in 1917, according to the City Clerk’s office. No other incumbent city council member or mayor has ever failed to advance out of the primary when facing two or more opponents.

“This is not something that has happened in the lifetimes of most people who follow city government,” said Mike Bonin, former City Council member and executive director of the Pat Brown Institute for Public Affairs at Cal State L.A.

McKinney’s sudden emergence in the race in May saw him hijack the incumbent’s support from law enforcement. His campaign received $3 million worth of independent expenditures. An official with a group supporting McKinney — who spoke on condition of anonymity because they were not authorized to speak to the media — said an internal poll showed Feldstein Soto falling nearly 10 points outside the runoff a week before election day.

Since Roy had already captured the support of the county Democratic Party and energized left-leaning voters, that put Feldstein Soto in the center, analysts said, which left her vulnerable in a race that most people casting ballots hadn’t closely followed.

“To the extent that people had any information, they knew that one of them basically wanted to be tougher and somebody on the other side wanted to be kinder, that left her with very little room to maneuver,” said Roy Behr, a longtime consultant to veteran politicians in the city.

Roy “micro-targeted” likely progressive voters in social media spots, experts said, presenting as an affable presence in her ever-present purple blazer while sharing her vision of serving as the “people’s lawyer.”

Marissa Roy, a deputy attorney general with the California Department of Justice, appears poised to finish first in the June 2 primary race for L.A. city attorney.

(Gary Coronado / For The Times)

Boosted by a massive influx of cash from rental giant Airbnb, some of McKinney’s ads played up his hard-luck upbringing in one of New Jersey’s most violent cities. His campaign also sent out texts that painted his opponents as “George Gascón”-style Democrats, invoking the former progressive district attorney as a bogeyman for voters anxious about crime.

AI-generated videos depicted McKinney as a stoic, suit-clad crime fighter walking through a dystopian version of L.A.’s Metro system.

“The debate isn’t necessarily two candidates on one stage appealing to one person, it’s for attention and information in the same sphere,” said Spencer Slovic of Mycorrhiza Digital, who ran Roy’s digital advertising. “That battle of information will play out almost in different realms.”

Without a compelling story for her powerful but poorly understood role, Feldstein Soto often struggled to explain her achievements in office.

In a recent interview with The Times, she said she delivered on “public safety, public integrity and public services.” She went on to discuss granular improvements she made to the office, such as limiting access to law enforcement databases by former employees, modernizing internal systems and improving the rapport between the city attorney’s office and LAPD. By her own admission, she doesn’t often publicly celebrate her accomplishments.

“I didn’t hold some big press conference and hop up on a white horse and declare myself Joan of Arc and the savior of all things Los Angeles,” she said. “Which I could have done.”

Tumult during Feldstein Soto’s lone term in office was easier for voters to identify. The cost of litigation exploded. A high-ranking city lawyer accused her of abusing her power, prosecuting political enemies, mistreating employees and engaging in “inappropriate alcohol consumption.” Feldstein Soto claimed she improved her office’s rapport with the LAPD, but the police union’s decision to rescind its endorsement of her and instead back McKinney cost her a key voting bloc.

Feldstein Soto’s messaging was at times muddled and lacked the flair of her challengers, political observers said. Campaign finance records show she paid for 80 email blasts, mailers and other messages that sought to influence voters.

John McKinney, a Los Angeles County prosecutor, appears set to advance to a run-off against Marissa Roy in the race for L.A. city attorney.

(Kayla Bartkowski / Los Angeles Times)

In one video, she stood in front of a static background and talked for three minutes straight about her record while describing her opponents as representing the “extreme left” and “extreme right.” She attacked both for receiving large sums of money from “special interests,” especially McKinney for accepting Airbnb’s largesse. Feldstein Soto sued the rental giant for price gouging in the wake of the 2025 wildfires.

Roy’s campaign sent out 180 communications, records show, the bulk of them ads for Instagram and Facebook, where her team said they saw instantly which stories resonated with likely voters and which were duds.

Slovic said a “clip of Hydee talking about how she wasn’t going to prosecute the Trump administration” seemed to touch a nerve with voters.

“That was by far our best performing ad,” he said, adding, “What Democrats really want in primaries is someone who will fight and have some sort of backbone.”

McKinney had just 23 communications, campaign records show, plus 19 more made by independent groups. He often leaned into the same gritty visuals that defined mayoral candidate Spencer Pratt’s viral AI spots.

In a race for a position most voters don’t understand, McKinney’s and Roy’s ability to play a consistent character may have proved critical, political analysts said.

“The vast majority of voters started off with no strong feelings about the race,” Behr said. “Nobody had any votes locked down other than their friends and neighbors.”

Chris Clarke had gone the traditional route, pitching for three years at USC after starring at Newbury Park High, then toiling for six more seasons in the Chicago Cubs’ minor league system after being a fourth-round draft pick in 2019.

But his big-league dream abruptly became a wake-up call last August when the Cubs released him a week before his wife gave birth to their first child. No more paychecks. No more health insurance.

So imagine how jarring it was for Clarke to take the mound in front of a record 102,000 fans in the Texas A&M football stadium Saturday, which had been converted to accommodate (sorry Dodgers) the most popular team in baseball: the Savannah Bananas.

“It was surreal,” Clarke said. “In fact, it was so incredible, I didn’t feel anything. My body went numb. There was a moment in the third inning when everybody was screaming. I couldn’t hear myself talk.”

It was the most people ever crammed into Kyle Field, the nation’s fourth-largest college stadium, trailing only Michigan (107,601), Oregon (106,572) and Ohio State (102,780).

Clarke pitched for the opposing team, the Texas Tailgaters, one of five squads created by Bananas founders Jesse and Emily Cole that serve as touring partners to face the yellow-clad star attraction. All six teams practice at a complex in Savannah, Ga.

The game in College Station attracted the largest crowd in the Bananas’ six-year history, and Clarke shined, striking out five in four innings. He also entertained, as all players in the Banana Ball Championship League are cheerfully required to do.

“The amount of joy it brings to fans and even people online, it’s really something,” Clarke said. “There definitely is a winner and a loser — which holds some weight — but for the most part, fans are there because it’s a really good show.”

Clarke, a 6-foot-7 right-hander, was the third overall pick in the inaugural Banana Ball draft held in November. Tailgater coaches contacted him beforehand to gauge his interest and he told them, “Pick me.”

March 2019 photo of former USC pitcher Chris Clarke during the 2019 Dodger Stadium Classic.

(John McGillen/USC Athletics)

That level of bold fits right in. Banana Ball is fast-paced, hilarious and maximizes fan engagement. It features innovative rules: Fouls caught by fans count as outs, for example, and batters who walk get to run the bases until all nine defensive players have touched the ball. Choreographed dances, acrobatic tricks, a pitcher on stilts and other antics keep the entertainment flowing.

“I like to think of every game as a stepping stone to the next show,” Clarke said. “Whether it goes well or is terrible, we will make it better for next time. Banana Ball is a relaxed culture, so when it comes to the entertainment stuff, there is no fear of failure. We are seeing what works and what doesn’t.”

Guest stars are frequent and on Saturday, the Bananas sent Texas-grown YouTube sensation Tyler Toney, a member of the sports comedy troupe Dude Perfect, to the plate as a pinch-hitter. Clarke struck him out on four pitches: a called strike, a swinging strike, a ball Clarke purposely launched high into the stands for laughs, then strike three swinging on a cut fastball.

It was a rare humbling moment for Toney, who, with fellow Dude Perfect members Cody Jones, Garrett Hilbert, and twins Cory and Coby Cotton, generates more than $20 million annually from YouTube, merchandise and tours.

Clarke had watched Dude Perfect videos religiously when he was at USC and was starstruck to meet them in person.

“Dude Perfect is the reason I failed econ twice,” he said. “I watched every single Dude Perfect video. To meet them and shake their hands was fun. It was the only moment in my life where I was a fanboy.”

He’s also a breadwinner again for his family. The burgeoning popularity of Banana Ball has made the gig more lucrative than playing in the minor leagues.

“I’m making five times as much and playing half the time,” Clarke said. “My contract is also for 12 months of the year. In affiliated baseball, it’s only six months. So, there’s that. I’ve never met anyone in baseball who has had the luxury to spend time with a newborn child. To come to Banana Ball and actually feel like there is respect, a culture and guidelines, that was something I hadn’t experienced.”

It is also giving him notoriety. Twenty-five Banana Ball games this year are being streamed on the ESPN app and Disney+, with select games airing across ESPN networks and ABC. The first Bananas broadcast on ABC will take place at Autzen Stadium in Eugene, Ore., June 27 and 28. The games have been sold out since October.

Highlights from Saturday’s game flooded social media and traditional outlets alike. Family friends and former teammates reached out to Clarke. What was it like pitching in front of 100,000 people? Are you improving your dance moves?

“The entertainment side of it takes pressure off performance,” he said. “Performing well is still very much there, but there is a level of relaxation that makes it easier.”

Clarke admits he thinks back to USC and the 2019 season, when he posted a stellar earned-run average of 1.03. He also occasionally misses the heightened competition and quest to make the major leagues of affiliated baseball.

He pitched two seasons in triple A and is only 27. Would he leave Banana Ball next year if an MLB team offered him an invite to spring training?

“I’m not in a situation to close any doors,” he said. “That’s the mindset that got me here. I wanted to investigate Banana Ball and I told them I’d give them a full year for us both to evaluate it. Either way, I think it’s a win. Just comes down to what’s best for my family.”

Meanwhile, more games in packed stadiums await. In addition to a handful in football stadiums against the Bananas, the Tailgaters will play three games a week against other Banana Ball League teams throughout the summer, mostly in minor league baseball stadiums from Tulsa, Okla., to El Paso, Texas, to Nashville, Tenn., to Charlotte, N.C.

Exponentially larger crowds than those venues are accustomed to are a given.