If you know me at all, you already know I’m a die-hard Kansas City Chiefs fan. Like, the kind of fan who can tell you exactly where I was standing during that play, who plans Sundays around kickoff, and who thinks “Arrowhead” isn’t just a stadium—it’s a whole feeling.

And now we’re here.

Are we happy the Chiefs are moving out of Arrowhead?
Ummm… NO. Absolutely not.

Arrowhead Isn’t Just Concrete and Seats—It’s Magic

Arrowhead is one of those places that hits you the second you pull in. The energy starts before you even see the stadium. The tailgating is its own event. Smoke rolls off grills. Music fills the air. Strangers greet you like family. And yes… you already know Kansas City brings the best BBQ to the parking lot like it’s a competitive sport.

Then you walk through the gates and it’s like stepping into a different world.

The noise. The sea of red. The tradition. The chants. The absolute chaos (in the best way) when something big happens on the field. It’s hard to explain to someone who hasn’t been there, but if you’ve felt it, you know.

Arrowhead is a memory-maker. It’s where generations of families have watched the Chiefs together. It’s where people have celebrated, cried, screamed, hugged strangers, and lost their voices by halftime without one ounce of regret.

It’s not just an NFL stadium.

It’s home.

And Yeah… I’m Disappointed

I’m going to say the part out loud that a lot of us are thinking.

I’m disappointed in our local and state leadership. They are not doing enough to keep the Chiefs at Arrowhead. If you live in Jackson County, Missouri, you know exactly what I mean. It feels like we are watching something priceless slip away. Meanwhile, the people in power argue over pennies and politics.

And that frustration isn’t just about football.

It’s about what Arrowhead represents for Kansas City. It’s about pride. It’s about identity. It’s about the fact that the Chiefs aren’t just a team here—they’re part of the heartbeat of the community.

But Here’s the Complicated Truth…

On a business level?

I 100% understand why they’re moving.

Sports is emotional for fans, but it’s also a business for organizations. Stadium deals, revenue, long-term growth, infrastructure, partnerships—those decisions aren’t made with nostalgia. They’re made with spreadsheets and forecasts.

And as much as I hate that… I get it.

Teams are going to go where the path is smoother, the future looks stronger, and the investment makes sense. I don’t have to like it to understand it.

The Fan Side of Me Is Still Grieving, Though

Even if the move makes sense on paper, the fan side of me is grieving a little. Because this isn’t just changing a location—it’s changing a tradition.

It’s changing the pregame rituals. The familiar drive. The same entrances we’ve walked through a hundred times. The “this is where we always sit” stories. The feeling of being in a place where history lives in the walls.

And honestly? I’m not sure anything can replace that.

So Where Do We Go From Here?

I’ll tell you one thing: my loyalty isn’t going anywhere.

I’ll still wear red. I’ll still cheer until I’m hoarse. I’ll still plan my fall around game days. I’ll still get emotional when that hype video hits.

But I’m also allowed to say this:

Arrowhead was special.
And it’s okay to be mad, sad, and disappointed—even while understanding why it happened.

Because being a fan isn’t just about the wins.

It’s about the places, the people, and the memories that made you fall in love with the team in the first place.

And Arrowhead?

Arrowhead did that for a whole lot of us.