The D-Word
Yesterday, an unseasonably beautiful day to celebrate the arrival of the Chiefs’ dynasty seemed perfect, until it was far from it. PHOTO CREDIT - Nick Bates
Published February 15, 2024
Just over a day has passed since an hour, that was poised to be one of this city’s greatest, quickly descended into one of its darkest. And still, I am unsure how to process it all.
Yesterday began as a beautiful day in Kansas City. After previous iterations of Super Bowl parades had given us gray skies and arctic chills, it was as if even Mother Nature could no longer deny how special this team is and this moment was. The weather cooperated with a rare sunny day in February as a multitude gathered to celebrate a crowning achievement; the anointing of an NFL dynasty.
Ever since the Chiefs won Super Bowl LIV, there has been a rush by local media to prematurely declare a dynasty, and many Chiefs fans followed suit. For years, I warned many of my friends against the perils of uttering “the D-Word” too soon as if the term was the sports antithesis of Beetlejuice. Utter “dynasty” three times and one that seemed certain may never appear.
My fear, and even annoyance, had been so prevalent in recent years that one friend could not help himself. Moments after the winning score, he simply texted me, “D-word.”
In American sports terms, there seem to be two commonly accepted definitions of dynasty. There are many who would tell you that to be a dynasty, you must win back-to-back titles. An opportunity for the Chiefs to do so was firmly halted in Super Bowl LV. Most would agree that you need to win a minimum of three titles within a five year span. When Mecole Hardman caught the walk-off touchdown in overtime of Super Bowl LVIII, the Chiefs had accomplished both.
And so now that no one in the world of sports could deny a Kansas City dynasty, hundreds of thousands lined the streets to see their heroes. Many had camped out for hours, and even overnight. Some foolishly and illegally abandoned their cars. All of this to see their heroes who had brought this moment to our city.
In the early hours, as thousands waited in anticipation of the champions’ arrival, sporadic games of catch broke out between fans who were strangers but united in their fandom. Footballs sailed over the parade barriers across Grand Boulevard, with our police joining in on the fun and providing assists for any stray balls that fell short.
As the double-decker buses arrived, children who had secured front-row spots on the rails held out jerseys and footballs with sharpies taped to them, hoping to meet their favorite players and collect some autographs. For many, their hopes were realized.
Even the NFL Network could not help but remark during their coverage that a large part of what makes parades in Kansas City so special is the level of access that the fans have to the players. This level of interaction was, according to these NFL commentators, unlike any other city and virtually unique to Kansas City. Most of them admitted that it’s why they love coming to parades in Kansas City.
And they said “parades”, as in plural, because of course, we have seen this all before. Five times in the last eleven years, Union Station has been the site of celebration for a major American professional sports championship. While it once seemed unbelievable, these days, we knew what to expect.
We knew these buses would be even less effective at containing these Chiefs’ players than the Fins, Bills, Ravens, or Niners were over the past month. Among the first to be seen taking to foot down Grand Boulevard were unlikely postseason heroes Marquez Valdes-Scantling and Mecole Hardman. MVS carried a Chiefs flag, not too dissimilar from the one that he had planted at midfield in Las Vegas just days prior. Hardman, it seemed, was still in disbelief over the chain of events that led him to scoring an improbable walk-off touchdown.
Justin Reid wore his, now-expected, “In Spags We Trust” shirt as networks reported that Defensive Coordinator Steve Spagnuolo, the first NFL coordinator to win four Super Bowls, had just inked a contract extension with the Chiefs the morning of the parade.
Willie Gay lost his shirt, and his shoes, and all sense of place as he ran down the street with a bottle of Hennessy in hand. He laid on the asphalt to talk to reporters. He jumped on the back of a police car. And all of KC was swept away seeing such unbridled joy and tomfoolery from a player, who sadly, may have played his last game in a Chiefs’ uniform.
Newcomer, and largely unheralded and underrated offseason addition, Drue Tranquill shouted out, “This is so much better than L.A!” several times as the former Charger made his way towards Union Station.
Not only had this team cemented forever their place in American sports lore, but each and every Chief in the vicinity of a microphone promised this city that even more history was to come. What the Kansas City Chiefs have accomplished, while not seen here before, has precedent in places like Boston, Pittsburgh, San Francisco, and Dallas.
This parade, this gathering, this celebration; it is still the kind of thing that, while it has happened often, still does not quite seem real. This run would have been impossible for me to imagine when I first moved to Kansas City just 12 years ago.
We came together as a city to celebrate that which our team had joined others in doing, while the team made it clear they would not be satisfied until they accomplished that which is without precedent. Never in the history of the post-merger NFL, has a team won three consecutive championships. The rings for the most recent championship have not even been designed yet and already, every single Chief spoke of “threepeat”. Perennial All-Pro Chris Jones, who is set to become a free agent, even announced his intent to be a part of that history screaming out, “I ain’t going nowhere baby!”. It seemed as if he was promising Chiefs Kingdom that he would be signing a minimum three-year deal to play here “this year, next year, and the year after.”
And that should have been the story of the day - one of the biggest names in free agency apparently making a verbal commitment to stay with the dynasty he helped build. But, if you’re reading this, you likely know that it wasn’t. One friend expressed concern that Travis Kelce’s inability to speak now when called upon, due to excessive celebration, would be the story of the day and cast this city in a negative light. And while the story today is a negative one, you know it has nothing to do with any of the players.
Even though a day has passed, what came next does not quite seem real. It would have been impossible for me to imagine 26 hours ago.
Once again, if you are reading this, I assume you know the story. Or at least, the version of the story that we know right now.
Minutes after the celebration had ended, shots rang out at its epicenter, in the area between Union Station and Liberty Memorial. As people scattered and even began to run from the area, local news affiliates who were on site struggled to comprehend what they were seeing. As they began to speculate as to the reasons for the crowd’s hurried pace or why “more people are making their way into Union Station than we’ve seen in past years”, it took at least ninety seconds of air time for many of the anchors to even begin to process that something might be wrong.
“And that should have been the story of the day - one of the biggest names in free agency apparently making a verbal commitment to stay with the dynasty he helped build. But, if you’re reading this, you likely know that it wasn’t. ”
As I watched these events unfold on television, I was equally confused. As a friend texted me saying, “this has just become scary” the station on which I had watched the rally was not yet reporting on what had happened. Naturally, I assumed that someone, fan or player, had succumbed to over-indulgence.
As another friend in the same thread texted that this was “so sad” and another asked if I had heard from our mutual friend and my brother, it quickly became clear something was very wrong. And then I saw the headline change at the bottom of the screen, “SHOTS FIRED AT UNION STATION AFTER SUPER BOWL PARADE”.
In the aftermath, we learned that three were arrested, one person was dead, and 22 others were treated for gunshot injuries, half of which were children. This does not account for those who were injured in the act of fleeing the scene due to non-firearm factors.
There has long been a saying that, “Nothing brings together a community like tragedy and sport”, but what happens when sport becomes the source of tragedy? What happens when a city’s shining moment becomes suddenly dim?
As the day began, Kansas City was eager to celebrate the long awaited right to finally apply the d-word to their team. But suddenly, dynasty was the furthest thing from our minds. Danger. Disaster. Dreadful. Darkness. Despicable. Disgusting. These were the words that came to mind.
The headlines should have been about Chris Jones and the fans. Even the most vocal naysayers would have welcomed stories about Kelce’s intoxication or Taylor Swift not being a part of the festivities. But they weren’t. Instead, it became the story of a mass shooting in America, unfolding in real time on live national television.
In the immediacy of everything that was happening, when there was still so much we did not know, all I could think about was what was lost. I thought about potential loss of life as I saw a gentleman in a Patrick Mahomes jersey stretchered into the back of an ambulance on television. I thought about the victims and what they may have lost, even if they survived. I thought of the innocence that many children lost. The sense of security and joy that many people had lost. The fear that had overtaken all of us as I had still seen no proof of life from the many people I knew who were in attendance at the festivities.
One has to wonder if the level of interaction seen yesterday between future Hall of Fame Tight End Travis Kelce and fans will be possible anytime soon in any market.
PHOTO CREDIT - Nick Bates
I found myself thinking about the parade itself. Just an hour earlier the openness and interactive nature had been lauded by national media. Would gatherings of this nature cease to exist in Kansas City altogether? Has the championship parade in the United States been forever changed, or even lost?
I thought about everything that has happened in the last twenty years in Kansas City and the downtown we have built up. As sirens filled the air, I knew that the sense of safety it had taken decades to establish had been destroyed in a moment by the senseless acts of a few.
I knew that it would not take long for those who oppose downtown gatherings of any kind, or who dislike our city in general, to unjustly vilify it. I knew it would not take long for those who oppose the construction of major downtown projects to use this shooting as fodder to their own benefit in a distasteful manner. And sadly, I was right. It took less than half an hour for someone to do exactly that on disKCovery’s page.
Like many, I worried about everyone who I knew at the parade and wondering what they may have lost. (Fortunately at this exact point in time, every person who I know was at the parade is safe and I pray that it stays that way). While I did not personally experience loss (to my knowledge), I know there are many who do not have the luxury of saying so.
I worried about all the friends whose social media feeds had shown them in the vicinity of the rally.
One such friend shared how she, her husband, and their two young boys had been at the rally on the Union Station lawn and left immediately after the last speech. They had no awareness of what was actually happening until they reached the lobby of their hotel because snipers were running to the Crown Center hotel’s roof while others were scrambling to get eyes on a TV in the hotel’s bar.
While she was relieved her family was safe, she had to be assured by her own elementary school-aged children that they would have known what to do if they were still outside due to the “Code Red alerts” and exercises that were a regular part of their curriculum at school. One of her sons even asked his parents, “should we barricade the room?” as this generation prepares for mass shootings as regularly as we prepared for fires and tornadoes.
Because, much like the clinching of a sports dynasty; while this is not an everyday occurrence in Kansas City, tragedies like this are not without national precedent. Before Kansas City’s Super Bowl win on Sunday, it had been just over 19 years since an NFL team had won back-to-back titles. By comparison, a mass shooting happened in America, on average, once every 13 hours in 2023.
This is our reality. And another d-word comes to mind: dumbfounded. That is surely how we will act as we wonder how, in the only developed nation in the world where this is the norm, such an act of senseless violence could have been prevented.
As I consider all these things, I am still incapable of processing it all. My heart hurts for all those affected. It hurts for this city. It hurts for this nation. It just becomes difficult to makes sense of the exact combination of the emotions that I now carry. I expect many in this area feel the same way.
This morning, in a thread of Chiefs’ fans, as some of us recounted all that had happened and tried to make sense of the latest updates, one friend in the thread declared “enough negativity” as he shifted our thread’s conversation back to Patrick Mahomes’ place in NFL history.
But the truth is, that many do not have the luxury of simply putting the events of yesterday away on a shelf. Even now, I still have text messages rolling in from friends across the country to make sure that I am safe. I simply cannot chalk yesterday’s events up as “negativity” and leave it be.
Darkness. Despair. More d-words creep in and it is easy to feel that way. But then I think about what one of my generation’s heroes, Mr. [Fred] Rogers, always had to say. “When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.”
And there has been some solace in that. Quickly, a video spread on multiple social media platforms of a group of Chiefs’ fans who apparently apprehended one of the suspects and took away his gun. They pinned him to the ground until police officers could come to their aid. We saw so many men and women, our first responders and police, rush to secure the area and to step up in order to save lives. What we did not see was the medical professionals at hospitals around the city who took many of these victims from critical condition to stable and in recovery.
As one friend who was at the parade posted, “Killa City strikes again”, I was reminded that all these helpers better exemplified who Kansas City is. While I had thought the Killa City moniker is one we had left behind, as it reared its ugly head once again, looking for the helpers was key.
But it is not enough to just look for the helpers. We have to be helpers. And being a helper means being the change we want to see.
Oftentimes, sports dynasties are built when no one is watching. Championship rosters are built within the walls of a draft day conference room mostly free from outside eyes. All-Pro players earn their stripes in the months of July and August, putting in the work far from the cameras and the eyes of fans. Each and every day, coaches and players made decisions that ultimately bring sports success to the organization and to this city.
If the Kansas City Chiefs are to achieve that which no one has done before, winning three consecutive Super Bowl titles, they are going to have to do that which no one else has thought to or been able to do.
And now, that is where our city finds ourselves. Right now, we are in the thoughts and prayers portion of the cycle for this particular tragedy. And there is nothing wrong with that, but at some point we have to realize they are not enough.
“Killa City’ is not who we are. It never has been.”
It has often been said that, “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.” I refuse to dismiss the belief that many place in thoughts and prayers but I firmly believe we have seen enough to know that they cannot equate to the power of policy and change. Actions have always spoken louder than words.
Thoughts, prayers, mindfulness, intention must be the driving force behind how we choose to act. Getting a world we have not had before means we will have to do things we have not done before.
Yesterday, we united to celebrate this absolutely incredible team and all they have accomplished. And regardless of anything that has transpired, it is still more than appropriate to celebrate what this team has done and be excited about their future. But, it is also appropriate to take a step back for a moment and fully digest everything that transpired in the parade’s aftermath.
Yesterday we united to celebrate this team and today, we find ourselves united for a far different, and much sadder, reason.
Because of that, what must loom even larger than thoughts of dynasty or disaster is our determination. We must be determined to show the country and the world that “Killa City” is not who we are. It never has been.
For eighteen years, a team won the Super Bowl and every year they talked of winning one the following year. A few came close but none could do it. A lot of them talked of doing so, but until this year, none had done it. However they did it, the Kansas City Chiefs acted when others were just content to talk.
Actions have always been stronger than words. As a city, as a state, as a country, thinking and talking needs to be just a starting point. We must be determined to act.
I have a hope and belief that I believe many in this city share. And even if they don’t share it, it is one they want to share. It is the hope that tomorrow can, and will, be better than yesterday. But in order for that to be true, it is clear that something has to change. It cannot be reasonably expected that the world tomorrow will organically be a better place without some measure of intentional action towards that goal, today.
Yesterday was one of our city’s darkest in modern memory but in the aftermath, there has been enough of a glimmer to know that our future can still be bright. As Kansas Citians, we know that the thoughtless acts of a few is not who we are. It is the brave and quick actions of dozens of others that show who this city is and who we aim to be.
I do believe that this city is determined to make sure that today’s headlines are not the final epitaph on who we are. This is not the end of our story. It is a dark chapter that must spurn the action needed to make sure it remains just a chapter. What has happened is absolutely tragic, but to do nothing in light of what happened would be even more so. It is that which we as a city and a region choose to do next that will make all the difference.
I believe that this time next year we will have the chance to celebrate NFL history. I believe that red snow will be in the forecast. We will be able to celebrate our football team.
But in that time I also believe that it will be important to remember and support those impacted by this senseless tragedy. We must take time to honor the many heroes who shone a light in the presence of absolute darkness and despair.
Yesterday, the Kansas City Chiefs stood on a stage, moments before tragedy struck, determined to do the things necessary in order to make history.
In the aftermath of this tragedy, we must now stand together as a city, determined to do the things necessary not to repeat it.
In light of yesterday’s events, I am glad that anyone reading this is able to do so and I sincerely hope that you and your loved ones are safe. If needed, do not be afraid to seek the help you need. Plenty of resources do exist. While events like this are precedented, nothing about this is normal. I wish you nothing but good things in these difficult times.
