Here’s a clean Kansas City Chiefs-related joke for you to share at your next watch party of tailgate.
Fast forward 50 years from now.
Saint Peter is checking his watch, expecting the newest addition to the Kingdom of Heaven to arrive at any minute. On Earth, folks in Ann Arbor, New England, and Tampa Bay mourn the loss of one of the greatest to ever play the game: Tom Brady.
Brady’s 90+ years on Earth provided some of the best football that anyone had ever seen. 7 Super Bowl wins in 10 appearances, 5 Super Bowl MVPs, 3 NFL MVPs, and just about every record passing record in the book by the time he retired. Nearly unanimously lauded as the GOAT during his playing days, Brady’s legacy will live long past his time on Earth.
As Peter gets ready to take a smoke break, he sees a pearl white Rolls Royce pull up to the gates. It’s him. It’s Tom Brady.
“Mr. Brady, welcome to Heaven! We’ve been waiting for you, right this way!” Peter exclaims with childish glee.
“Great to be here, Peter.” Brady says with class, dignity, and that million dollar smile.
Tom follows Peter through the gates and down a street paved with gold. While he doesn’t know exactly where they’re going, he has an idea. They pass Moses and exchange salutations. They walk by Noah’s Ark and say hello to the original zookeeper himself. They even see Jesus playing pickup hoops with Michael Jordan. Can’t confirm whether or not there were any wagers placed on the game.
They finally get to God’s office. “Tom, welcome.” The Almighty bellows. “I’ve got something to show you.
God, Peter, and Brady hop in God’s Hummer and head down to a gated community. They make a turn on one of the streets and see the mansion where Brady will live for the remainder of eternity. “Pretty nice, right?” God asks. “Oh yeah, this will definitely do.” Brady replies instantly.
Brady is loving it in Heaven. He’s got 24/7 access to the most Golden Gold’s Gym in the universe, he’s throwing routes on a pristine practice field to Gronk and Randy Moss, he’s next door neighbors with his parents, and Gisele and the kids aren’t there yet. Post-life couldn’t be better for Tom Brady.
After he’s been there for a couple weeks, he decides to take a different route on his morning walk. He winds through his neighborhood and finds a long, winding cul de sac. “Hmmm, I wonder who lives at the end of this?” he thinks to himself. So he saunters down the road a little ways and checks out the houses along the way. His house is nice, but these are some criiiiiibs in this part of Heaven.
He gets to the end of the road and becomes enraged. He finds a gargantuan house—at least 3 times the size of his—with a red and yellow picket fence, a gigantic Chiefs flag in the front yard, and in numbers 10 feet tall and 5 feet wide on the front doors a gigantic number 15.
“This is ridiculous.” Brady scoffs as he immediately heads towards God’s office.
He burst in the door without even saying hello to the receptionist and confronts God at his desk. “God, look, with all due respect, I won 7 Super Bowls in my career. I played in 10! I was the MVP 3 times and the Super Bowl MVP 5 times! I held every single passing record by the time I retired. I had, by all accounts, one of the most successful careers in the history of professional sports! Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the setup you’ve got me in. But how is it that when I get to heaven I find out that Patrick Mahomes has a house three times the size of mine?!”
God looks at Brady as if asking “Are you done?” without actually saying it. What he does next puts Tom into a complete mental pretzel.
He laughs. Not just a chuckle, a big bellowing laugh. Brady looks at him like a dog looks at an answering machine when it hears it’s owner’s voice but cannot physically see them.
God calms down and wipes the tears from his eyes that were created by his raucous laughter. “Oh, Tom. I apologize if you’re a little thrown off by that. But that’s not Patrick Mahomes house. It’s mine.”