Dear reader, this is a difficult column to write to you. So many things I could say, but I’ll simply start out by saying that I am sorry.
The Catholic Church and my mother taught me to always accept responsibility and apologize because Jesus would want it that way. I’m not sure even Jesus could forgive what I did over the weekend.
It all started like most Sundays do – by sleeping in and being awoken by a very angry dog who had run out of water. I stumbled from my slumber and made it downstairs to refill her bowl. I opened the drapes and was greeted with a beautiful Midwestern winter sky. Blue as the deepest oceans above and nothing but barren trees as far as the eye could see.
My game day routine began. And it began normally with the usual things you do first thing in the morning which included brushing of teeth, a couple of shakes near by and heading to the grocery store to buy everything I’d need for an AFC Championship Sunday meal.
The pork shoulder was nearly to 205 degrees and the bark was thick. Recently, my grocery store closed on Englewood, so I went to a different one nearby. I usually like to get some celebratory cupcakes for a day like this because my son likes to have friends over. We love the chocolate ones. They only had strawberry on this day. I had 13 items which seemed cautiously optimistic, so I opted for the standard checkout line – not wanting to draw the ire of anyone in the Express lane.
Then I headed home. It was time to change for the game. Sadly, my Patrick Mahomes jersey had not been washed since the incredible comeback last week. So I went with a new shirt I’d purchased over the past few days that had :13 in bold gold numbers on a red shirt. This would be fine. It was in celebration of how incredible the team had been. Besides, there are more players to celebrate than just Patrick Mahomes.
We ate a wonderful pulled pork lunch and watched the Chiefs embarrass the Cincinnati Bengals for an hour through halftime. It was time for cupcakes! I bit into the first one and spit it out because I hate strawberry cupcakes.
You know the rest.
I come to you with hat in hand, dear reader. As I realized that my actions likely changed the fortunes of our boys at GEHA Field at Arrowhead Stadium. If I’d only done laundry. If I’d only gone to my normal grocery store. If I’d only found chocolate cupcakes. If I hadn’t worn a giant THIRTEEN on my chest through the game. Maybe things would’ve worked out differently.
But they didn’t. And that is on me. Solely and completely. I need to take some time to reflect on my actions. Sadly, I’ll have the entire offseason to do that. I just wanted to come here and say that I’m sorry. I let you and the Chiefs down with my calloused lack of lucky routines. I think it comes down to not wearing the Mahomes jersey, frankly. But there were a lot of other areas to point to. The point is, I have a lot to work on. And I will. Just as soon as I can bring myself to get out of bed. At least we have baseball season whenever Major League Baseball decides to get its act together.
Anyway, I’m sorry. I promise to do better.
(Do better with Chris Kamler on Twitter, where you’ll find him cracking wise as @TheFakeNed)
