By: Amannda G. Maphies
It has been nearly 10 years since I attended a Kansas City Chiefs football game live at Arrowhead Stadium. This year, as a complete surprise, a very dear friend asked me to attend the AFC Championship game between the Kansas City Chiefs and the Buffalo Bills. I was flattered, excited, honored, and constantly pinching myself, as I could not believe this was real.
I was not always a Chiefs fan. Heck, I didn’t even like football! I did not understand the game, it just seemed like a bunch of meatheads running around a field, chasing an oblong ball, with fans getting excited over…. what, I was not quite sure. However, I met a man in 2014 that changed my view on football. Specifically, The Chiefs.
Chuck Wiersch was a very familiar face in Springfield, Missouri and the surrounding area. He partnered with John Youngblood at Youngblood Nissan on South Campbell. He was known for his riotous commercials, where he would jump at the end of the reel and yell: ‘What A Place!’, directly into the camera. When I started dating Chuck in 2014, it was never out of the question for folks to ask if he was the owner of the large car lot. While he was not the owner, he was the face of the company. He loved selling cars, advertising, and partnering to build a business he truly believed in. More than that, he loved people. All people. Chuck was known for his outlandish humor, often more outlandish antics, and possessing a true heart for children, animals (dogs, in particular), the many natural lakes in Minnesota, golf, his granddaughter, Tatum, and grandson, Milo, his only daughter, Greta, who was a high school and college basketball star. And later on, down the road, he found an interest in me.
As our romance developed, so did my friendships with his lifelong business associates, friends, and family. Chuck was well-connected in the world and offered many opportunities I likely would never have experienced, but for him. One of those special experiences was attending Kansas City Chiefs games with his friends, who were longtime season-pass holders, Chris and Debbie Moore.
We attended the season opener every year. Tailgating with strangers turned friends, friends turned family, jabbing opponents in good fun, and enjoying the true red and gold camaraderie of each game. There were stifling late summer games, where I thought I would pass out due to the intense heat. There were frigid winter games where I worried about catching frostbite. Despite the gradient in weather, one thing always remained the same, the fans at Chiefs games are some of the best in the world. They cheer with all of their hearts, are (for the most part) gracious to the opposing team’s fans, and display a close-knit fan-ily including the Chiefs arrowhead chant, high fiving every single surrounding person after a touchdown or incredible play, and genuinely sharing a love of a game that seems to defy all differences and unite a stadium of thousands, a true sea of red, with a common desire. To see the Kansas City Chiefs win!
I never really understood the complexities of this game, the many calls that sounded familiar, but had little meaning to this non-football brain of mine. Yet, it was hard to stay detached from the energy of each home game at Arrowhead. The sea of red jerseys, the continual crowd-induced tomahawk chants, the grace of fans when a player missed a much-needed tackle, or failed to catch the ball, and the sheer wave of devastation when our home team suffered a loss. For all intense and purposes, you would think that Chiefs fans suffered the losses more acutely than the actual players. I recall many a long, nearly three-hour car ride home, that was filled with silence, an occasional bout of frustration, calls that should have been made but weren’t, calls that were made but should not have been, discussing certain key players and how their game suffered on that particular day. On the contrary, there were rides home filled with laughter, jubilation, great excitement and celebration from a major win, propelling the beloved Missouri football team toward a future championship.
On a chilly winter Sunday evening, January 26, 2025, as I sat at the AFC Championship game (there was very little sitting, truth be told); we stood practically the whole entire time. All three hours and 37 minutes. I could barely feel my toes, or my face. But my heart was full. Not only was the game absolutely heart-pounding, but simply taking in the atmosphere was a royal treat for this gal who enjoys any opportunity to people watch.
From the young family sitting in front of us, with two young boys, who seemed to disagree with every call the refs made. Their mother and father had to sternly tell them to ‘Calm down, it’s fun no matter who wins’ more than once. Yet, it was quite clear from where the boys’ hot-running athletic emotions came. The dad, who moments after trying to calm his two sons, broke into hysteria when a call was made that he felt was unfair. When the game reached the final seconds of play and it was declared a Chiefs win, that same family of four embraced in bear hugs, high fives, and if I wasn’t mistaken, even tears of sheer delight. Of course, it was very chilly, so perhaps those tears were eyes watering from the cold, but I choose to think they symbolized something much deeper.
There were two brothers-in-law directly behind where I sat. Each rooting for the opposing team. One decked out in Chiefs gear and the other clearly a Bills fan. Yet, they held a sign that stated their relationship and acceptance/grace for the other team, in a show of respect and brotherly love. It was quite adorable. And proof that fans of opposing teams really can be friends!
I am always struck by the hundreds of fans in the full-to-the-brim stands at Arrowhead Stadium. Virtual strangers from the first seconds of the game turned lifelong friends by the finale of the fourth quarter. Collectively weathering the eternal moments of intensity when their team falls behind. Sharing in similar frustration when the refs make the wrong call (according to the armchair refs in the stands). And high fiving their way to victory with each successful play made by their favorite football team in the world. The Kansas City Chiefs.
My dear Chuck unexpectedly passed away in March 2018. The first year the Chiefs made it to the Superbowl, and won, was 2020, right before the terrible covid pandemic managed to shut down the world. I recall watching the Super Bowl on a large-screen TV at a friends’ home with several guests for a Super Bowl party. While the halftime show was particularly not up my alley, the win of this formerly non-triumphant team that Chuck loved so much (even during the days of little to no wins) pierced my heart. This non-football fan who became a fan, based on the sheer delight and exuberance felt by someone she loved very much, was emotional over a Chiefs Super Bowl win over the 49ers in February 2020.
It was a moment that stayed with me and likely always will. A shifting-sands-of-time, tender flush of emotion for a victory I never really cared about until I met someone that did. Chuck was a Chiefs fan before the Chiefs were the winning machine they are today. He believed in the team, the coaches, the Kansas City community where they hail. “It is no coincidence The Chiefs became invincible right after he passed away”, said Greta Wiersch Edmondson, Chuck’s daughter.
While the years of not attending Chiefs games became my off-season of up-close and personal fandom, I always appreciated a win from my living room or watching with friends at a local sports bar. For Chuck. I knew that first year they went to the Super Bowl in 2020 would have made him undeniably happy. I knew he would have cried tears of joy, along with the thousands of fans across the city, state, and country also cheering for the Chiefs. As tears streamed down my face the evening of the 2020 Superbowl win, I texted Chuck’s best friend, who later became one of my own best friends, to share in a victory we both knew would have made him so very proud.
To me, it is not so much about winning or losing. The Kansas City Chiefs is a family. It blends unique and diverse backgrounds into one red sea of commonality. People need something to root for, believe in, get excited about. The Kansas City Chiefs provides that….and so much more. Whether season pass holders that seldom miss a game, a first-time visitor, as I once was, to a special gameday invite, as I was for the AFC Championship game where the Chiefs scored a victory, securing their consecutive third time Super Bowl showing in five years, or cheering on the chiefs from one’s sofa in a comfy living room at home, Chiefs fans are loyal and passionate. They are excitable. They are loud. And they truly love the team in which they invest so much money, time, and energy.
This particular game felt very full circle to me. From attending past games with the man I loved and lost, to attending a present game with one of his dearest friends and now my own, I have to say, The Chiefs have somewhat sprinkled a brand of magic into my life. A non-football fan who has been privy to the camaraderie of strangers, bonding of friends, and bridging the gap between a non-fan to a super-fan. Football is truly a way of life, whether you play, coach, referee, or simply watch. It takes a village to keep a major team running hard, strong, and continually winning. That village, the loyal KC Chiefs fans, seems to have tapped into the mystery of success, victory, and great accomplishments over the past five years.
I wish the Kansas City Chiefs all the best in the Super Bowl, less than two weeks away. I will not be in the stands, but rather watching with my sons, a whole new generation of Chiefs fans that will carry on far into the future. They call it Chiefs Kingdom. And I suppose it is a kingdom…..a large group of people coming together for a common purpose. A victory of magnitude. But the true victory is the magic the fans get to witness, hear, feel, and touch with each subsequent game.
Chuck, your commercials always centered around the slogan: ‘What a Place’. I believe the happiest version of you I ever saw was at Arrowhead Stadium. With your best friends, Chris, Jimmy, and John. With thousands of unknown fans that you came to know and love. And, with me. Your non-football fan girl. Would you ever believe that I have since become a fan? I suppose I have. Or perhaps it is simply one of the many gifts you left with me, the hope for victory, the grace to handle a bitter defeat, the excitement of each play, the appeal of a stadium with thousands of folks all rooting for the same team. You shared all of these gifts with me, dear Chuck. But the most important, after the fanfare has died down, the stadium has emptied, and the season draws to a close, is the fact that you breathed fresh life into my bruised and tattered heart.
You opened your own life up to me and allowed me to experience four of the most amazing, adventurous, loving years I have ever known. Your love for the KC Chiefs was just as much a part of you as the blood running through your veins. And when I am watching a game, whether in the loud and proud stadium at Arrowhead, or from my own living room at home, I still feel your presence. And that is what has taken me from a non-fan to a semi-fan, and now I would say, I might just have joined the ranks of a Super-Fan.
Now, sitting in Arrowhead Stadium, where you once sat and cheered for your favorite team, surrounded by your old friends that became dear friends to me, I felt you here. Your energy, enthusiasm, desire for a big win and subsequent pride in the team you so adored, the Kansas City Chiefs. A team that bridges many gaps. That magically turns non-fans into fans. That brings families together and bonds friendships for life. A field of wide-open possibilities. Many losses, but always holding hope and cheering loud for the next Great Big Win.
