The Kansas City Chiefs have spent much of the last 50 years creating crippling anxiety for their fans. Suddenly, that’s all starting to disappear.
Just writing this column is terrifying.
Unless you root for a team that has broken your heart, taped it back together and then laughed while ripping it up again, you can’t understand. I hope you don’t.
These days, I cover the NFL for a living. It’s a privilege to be a national NFL reporter here at FanSided. When I write, when I report, I don’t play favorites. Don’t believe me? Read my story when Kansas City traded for Frank Clark.
To say no punches were pulled would be a gross understatement.
However, when I watch the Chiefs, I’m an invested, emotional wreck for three hours. They’ve been a shared religion between my father and I for 26 years and counting. A blood kinship.
Throughout that span, the Chiefs have found every way to lose in January. Lin Elliott. Elvis Grbac. The No Punt Game. 38-10. Marcus Mariota catching his own touchdown pass. Dee Freaking Ford.
Sunday wasn’t about to only add to the lore, but trump it all. From when the Chiefs won in Week 17 until their Divisional round tilt with the Houston Texans began, Kansas City bumped from a third seed to the second, saw the New England Patriots and Baltimore Ravens get eliminated in the playoffs, and earned home-field advantage. Everything was lining up.
24-0.
It was the ultimate hammer to the heart. Then, suddenly, it was the greatest moment in team history since 1969. The Chiefs destroyed the Texans, going on a 51-7 onslaught to advance to the AFC Championship Game for the second straight season. It’s back at Arrowhead, a place it had never been until a year ago. Now, two straight appearances. Patrick Mahomes will make that happen.
Of course, the wave of belief is about more than a 24-point comeback. It’s about more than winning a home playoff game for the first time in 25 years (last year’s Divisional victory over the Indianapolis Colts). It’s about something even bigger than playing on the NFL calendar’s penultimate weekend for a second consecutive time. It’s about a paradigm shift in believing what’s possible.
That shift begins with Mahomes and took hold in the aforementioned rally, one that finally proved the Chiefs aren’t the same, tired version of themselves dressed up as someone more appealing.
With Mahomes, the absurd seems mundane. Against the Texans, he threw four touchdown passes in the second quarter. The feat is Ruthian but seems normal, considering he did the same in Week 2 against the Oakland Raiders. All told, Mahomes eclipsed 300 passing yards with five touchdowns. Ho-hum.
Including the playoffs, Mahomes has started and finished 33 games for the Chiefs. He’s thrown for at least 300 yards 18 times, which means it’s rarer for him not to hit said threshold than to do so. The five touchdown passes are the third-most for him in a game, so the 24-year-old was testing his limits there.
Mahomes’ showcase on Sunday was legendary by any reasonable standard. It was a career game for almost anybody else. For Mahomes, it was merely above average.
While losing in playoff games obviously remains a possibility for the Chiefs, it’s not a probability anymore. Kansas City is laying 7.5 points against the Tennessee Titans this weekend in most sportsbooks, and both the majority of the bets and money laid have been on the Chiefs.
So now I’m sitting here, telling you the torture chamber that is Arrowhead Stadium in January no longer exists. That’s a dangerous thing to write, with Derrick Henry and the Titans on their way to town. Henry is running like a cross between Jim Brown and Earl Campbell, and Tennessee is coming downhill. The Titans believe they are going to win, and that’s half the battle.
Still, Mahomes is the baddest man on that field. He’s the baddest man in the NFL. For once, the Chiefs have the ultimate ace up their sleeve. They also have a brilliant offensive mind in head coach Andy Reid to play the cards.
The terror is real headed towards Sunday. So is the reality for the Chiefs’ opponents, with Kansas City no longer being under a constant cloud of dread.