If you’re from Kentucky, your blood bleeds blue. I know this because I lived it. Being a sports fan was just part of growing up in the Bluegrass State, and my family was no different from any other in this regard. We were different in a lot of other ways, but not when it came to sports. I realized from an early age that being a fan of the home team makes you feel like part of a larger family, one that enthusiastically embraces all those wearing the right color. Going with my parents and siblings to baseball, basketball, and football games (or watching or even just listening to the games) from an early age nurtured a bond between us that felt different from any other. That bond carried over to everyone else who was cheering on the UK basketball and football teams and the Cincinnati Reds baseball team. (We were called the Red Legs back then, in an effort to make sure people knew we weren’t a Communist organization. That's me in the photo above, sporting my beloved and well-worn Red Legs t-shirt.)
I became a hard-core Kansas City Royals and Chiefs fan once Eddie and I landed in KC in 1980. I was lucky enough to be in the stands when the Royals won the World Series in 1985 and to be at one of the championship games when they won it again in 2015 (homemade sign that proclaimed my love for Eric Hosmer in hand). I donned my favorite royals sweatshirt and waved my rally rag as needed. Nothing can compare to yelling or singing or stomping or celebrating with 37,902 of your closest friends, all of whom love one another unconditionally at that moment in time.
I can’t think of anything else that unites us quite like sports do. During the run-ups to the World Series in 1985 and 2015, every Kansas Citian loved every other Kansas Citian. Period. We were giddy and filled with hometown pride. When your team wins, especially at that level, you feel invincible, as if you’re the one banging out the home runs or pitching the no-hitters. It’s a crazy and wonderful feeling.
Eddie and I have remained KC sports fans even though we’ve moved to Oregon. Needless to say, we can hardly wait until Sunday. We’ll be at a watch party in New Orleans with family, and we’ve made sure to get Chiefs shirts for our kids and grandkids who’ll be cheering alongside us. If I could go to the game in Miami, I’d bring a homemade sign that professes my love for Patrick Mahomes. We’ll all be cheering madly for our team to win, but I have to admit I’ll feel embarrassed whenever the cameras pan the stadium to show Chiefs fans doing the Tomahawk chop while calling out war whoops, especially those folks who are decked out in war paint and Indian headdresses. Apparently, not all Native Americans are offended by this stuff and deem it as fairly innocuous, but the National Congress of American Indians takes a clear position against derogatory and harmful stereotypes of Native people, including sports mascots, so I think the issue needs to be addressed.
A little bit of quick research on the topic points to the fact that progress in being made in this area. Since 1963, no professional sports teams have established new mascots that use any sort of racial stereotypes, and a lot have already been eliminated. So that’s good. But will I really have any good explanation for my young grandchildren (who are ever so enlightened and will be watching their first Chiefs game) when they ask about the beating drums and the tomahawk chopping fans?
I’m so happy the Chiefs have made it to the Super Bowl (it’s been 50 years!), and I’ll be over-the-top elated if we win. Kansas City will paint itself red, Andy Reid and the players will be heroes, everyone there will love everyone else, and we fans will feel special and invincible… like we threw the touchdown passes ourselves. Yay! I’m excited.
I love KC, whether we win the Super Bowl or not. But, please, let's move into the 21st century and add respect for all people to the agenda. It’ll put us in the win column for sure.
GO CHIEFS!!!
