Patrick Mahomes’s Legend Grows With Gutsy Performance Against Jaguars
Patrick Mahomes had the kind of injury to his left ankle that would leave most of us looking for crutches and a bottle of pills. Mahomes did not even want an X-ray. He said afterward that “it’s all in God’s hands,” and because he was in pain, I will forgive him for referring to himself in the third person.
Mahomes left and came back, but the Chiefs are still here. They beat the rising Jaguars, 27–20, and added another sprinkle of legend to the Mahomes era. Now the Chiefs are headed to their fifth consecutive AFC championship game, a stunning achievement, and maybe we can’t tell the whole modern story of this franchise by focusing on one position in one game. But let’s try.
First: Mahomes. He is only 27, which is disturbing because some of us don’t have much left to say about the guy. Take everything you ever wanted in a quarterback, and a bunch of stuff you never dreamed possible, and here he is. He is one of the most physically talented players in history and one of the smartest and toughest players in the league. Saturday, Mahomes earned a superlative that nobody ever thought to dole out before: Most Likely to Make Plays When He Can’t Put Pressure on His Foot.
He cracked afterward, “Luckily for me, I’m not in the right foot position all the time, so I’m able to make some throws like that anyway,” and it was the most beautiful mix of self-deprecation and bragging. Mahomes routinely fires on-point darts when his feet are twisted or not even on the ground. So when he says “There was a couple throws here and there where I tried to plant off that foot and it didn’t let me kind of plant like I usually do,” that was both true and a minor inconvenience.
Second: Coach Andy Reid. Nearly everybody who has worked with him describes him as a lovable person and a wizard as a play-caller, and in this game, he was both. First, Reid insisted that his franchise player get that X-ray. We should not give a man any humanitarian awards for telling a limping employee to get an X-ray, but in pro football, any show of restraint and care deserves acknowledgement.
“I wanted just to continue to play,” Mahomes said. “I told him I would do it at halftime. But Coach, in the best interest of me, he made me go back there and get that X-ray before he put me back in the game.”
Mahomes said in the training room, “They don’t ever show the TV, man … I have to focus on myself and get myself better more than focusing on the game.”
While he was out, Chad Henne entered. The Chiefs brought Henne in four years ago at a salary of nearly $7 million, and he has stuck around at lower salaries because he loves the organization and this is the best backup job in the sport. It comes with a chance at a ring and a bucket of confidence from the head coach.
Henne entered with the Chiefs on their own 2-yard-line, leading 10–7. Most coaches would play scared there: run, run, maybe pass on third-and-long, punt. It is self-defeating. Reid sent Henne out with an empty backfield and implicit orders to take the team down the field.
“You feel the rhythm and you kind of get that first first down,” Henne said. “And you just go with the flow. And I think all the plays that were coming in, I felt confident in.”
Reid catered his offense to his backup, which sounds obvious but is not easy to actually do. Henne does not get first-team reps during practice: “Patrick is up there on offense, and we’re in the back doing the drops, doing our run reads as well,” Henne said of himself and the other quarterbacks. So we’re always in the back doing mental reps. After practice, we get with a couple of receivers, and we throw at them—not that they’re the starters.”
Still, Reid has given a lot of thought to what works best for Henne, who led Kansas City on a 98-yard drive—the Chiefs passed seven times and ran five—and finished it with a one-yard touchdown pass to Travis Kelce.
“They brought some heat whenever he came to the game,” Mahomes said. “And he made some big throws and was able to get us into the end zone. That was a big point in the game.”
Jacksonville responded with a field goal. But at halftime, the Chiefs led 17–10. Kansas City doctors told Mahomes that nothing was broken, so as long as he could sort of walk on an injured ankle, he might as well participate in a horribly violent game, or something like that. Mahomes said he got his ankle spatted (a method of taping) and went back in.
“I told Coach, ‘I want to still throw it downfield,’” Mahomes said.
He did, a little. He was clearly not himself; even as he left the field and high-fived Chiefs fans on his way to the locker room after the game, he was limping a bit. But Mahomes said, “You don’t want to let guys down. I’m not coming out of a playoff game unless they take me out. I love this sport too much.” At least two teammates referred to him Saturday as “the ultimate competitor.” The Chiefs signed him to a $450 million contract and got a bargain.
The injury could have cost Kansas City, and it did in small but ultimately inconsequential ways. Late in the game, as it tried to kill the clock, it had no threat of Mahomes making a play on the move, and the Jaguars knew it. Isaiah Pacheco ran into the line and got stuffed.
Ultimately, though, the Chiefs got the quarterback play they needed. This isn’t how they usually do it. But it’s what they pretty much always do.