When I was a kid, every weekend, my mom and dad would head to Strawberry Hill in KCK to bowl at a little four-lane bowling alley underneath a Catholic church. While they did that, us kids would be dropped off at our Grandma and Grandpa Kamler’s house on Pacific Avenue.
La noche estaría llena de juegos de damas y de llenarnos el estómago con comida polaca casera que preparaba la abuela. Pero observarnos a los cuatro tenía que haber sido una tarea para ellos, por lo que gran parte del tiempo nos sentaban frente al televisor a mirar y estar en silencio por unos minutos. La televisión era increíble en aquel entonces y veíamos Love Boat o Knight Rider o incluso Battlestar Galactica si teníamos suerte. Sin embargo, la mayor parte del tiempo la abuela se sentaba en su silla y miraba sus cuentos. Si nos dejaban durante el día, era el Hospital General y Los Días de Nuestras Vidas. Pero los fines de semana eran Dallas y Dynasty.
Nos quedamos sin aliento cuando le dispararon a JR y la abuela se reía cada vez que uno de los Carrington abofeteaba a otro Carrington.
I can’t get those memories out of my mind when we start throwing the sports term “dynasty” around. To me, they are inseparably linked. Dynasties in sports are so rarely seen and all of the dynasties of the past are as fuzzy as those memories of sitting on Grandpa Kamler’s lap having him razz me about being left handed. “I don’t have a left-handed set of crayons for you to use, Christopher Robin.”
All day today, I’m watching ESPN and hearing the word “dynasty” applying to the amazing Chiefs run. It is completely applicable. Three Super Bowl wins in five years. Four AFC Championships. Five appearances in the AFC Championship game. Eight straight AFC West titles. Even before Patrick Mahomes came along, the Chiefs started their dynasty slapping around the Broncos and Raiders two times a year. With Patrick, it became a dynasty. And it isn’t going anywhere.
I wrote in this space two weeks ago to never take these moments for granted, and we should never. And especially this year. This wasn’t a perfect team by any stretch. Wide receivers dropping balls left and right. Patrick Mahomes playing like Ryan Leaf at times. Andy Reid’s continuing obsession with not challenging calls. Travis Kelce with whatever he did to Andy during the first half.
But just like those fuzzy memories on Pacific watching Knight Rider, the Dynasty memories I have at Grandma and Grandpa’s are of only the good times. The laughing. The wrestling around on the floor with her dog Cuddles and my siblings. The continuous game of “got yer nose” with my grandpa and his comically large schnoz.
We won’t remember the warts. That’s how dynasties are. You’ll remember the glitz and glamor. You’ll remember the rings. The touchdowns. And you’ll remember the main stars. J.R., Alexis Carrington, Taylor Swift, Patrick Mahomes.
I look forward to hearing the word “dynasty” more because each time it will bring a flood of memories of fried chicken and perogies and it sure seems like the dynasty talk won’t be ending any time soon. Na Zdrowie.
(¡Saludos! De Chris Kamler, a quien puedes encontrar en X como @TheFakeNed)