On Monday, Kansas lawmakers unanimously approved a STAR bonds package, creating the conditions for the Chiefs to relocate from Missouri. Chiefs chairman and co-owner Clark Hunt and team president Mark Donovan appeared before an ensemble of dignitaries during a late-afternoon press conference held in Topeka. It was there that Kansas Governor Laura Kelly made a “special announcement” about the unanimous vote on the STAR bonds and the Chiefs’ decision to relocate at the end of their lease term at One Arrowhead Drive.
It’s easy to turn this stadium issue into an assessment of Missouri voters and Kansas City’s civic leadership for their perceived failures. One reading of how this situation unfolded since the April 2024 sales tax ballot measure was rejected is that all parties simply did not deliver what the Chiefs needed and, in doing so, opened the door to this relocation. In fairness, Jackson County voters did vote no on the measure, but that was less a denial of support for the franchise and more an expression of apprehension toward what many viewed as a half-baked plan.
Does anyone legitimately believe that, had the Chiefs separated their interests from Royals majority owner John Sherman’s pursuit of a new stadium site, the city of Kansas City wouldn’t have funded more renovations for Arrowhead? The outcome of that vote was less a statement of ambivalence by the city of Kansas City and more hesitation with the proposal’s packaging. To be clear, the Chiefs tethered their interests and complicated what would’ve otherwise been a straightforward issue.
Kansas City upheld its end of a decades-long partnership, even as the Chiefs chose a different path.
What has followed is an odd framing that casts voters and city leaders as unwilling participants who gambled and lost their biggest civic asset. That flattens a complex issue and turns it into a morality play, obscuring other important variables that shaped the outcome. It makes villains of Jackson County, which has supported this team through far leaner times, and casts the Kansas Legislature as the white-hatted savior that rescued the Chiefs from an ungrateful community partner. It’s an unfair and disingenuous interpretation of what actually occurred.
More importantly, it lets a miserly owner—one who has routinely kept the Chiefs in the bottom third of the NFL in cash spending—off the hook. In the annual NFLPA Report Card, this organization has ranked among the league’s lowest-scoring teams in recent years, and not just once. Players have cited concerns with the locker room, the training environment, and the training staff, all of which reflect longstanding operational problems that lead directly back to Hunt. All of it provides convenient cover for his pursuit of the most generous deal available.
Kansas City didn’t fail this organization. It’s been a trusted partner since the team moved to its current site in 1972, long before the dynastic years. The city supported renovations, absorbed the financial and logistical demands of a two-stadium complex, and consistently met the franchise where it was. Fans poured into Arrowhead long before team brass fielded a respectable product, and they kept showing up through the franchise’s darkest stretches. For decades, Kansas City provided stability, investment, and unwavering support. The idea that this city turned its back on the Chiefs is asinine. It also collapses the convenient narrative that this moment can be reduced to a simple business decision. This has been a longstanding partnership, not a sterile landlord-tenant arrangement.
I’m not upset that broader business considerations are part of this equation. Clark Hunt is entitled to pursue a new stadium and the hopeful profits that come with one. Besides, there are legitimate questions about the remaining life expectancy of Arrowhead. But I am concerned about how premium seat licenses will reshape the demographics of season-ticket holders, and early projections of a lower-capacity venue raise real questions about affordability. It’s also difficult to imagine a future in which a defining tailgating culture remains unchanged. I can’t predict what the next decade will look like, but these are reasonable concerns that deserve more than a dismissive shrug.
The smug commentary certainly doesn’t help what feels like a legitimate loss for so many. This notion that Kansas “won” and Missouri “lost” obscures the reality of what’s actually at stake: lost jobs, displaced workers, and fans who will be priced out of an experience they helped build. And what becomes of the site that will close its doors for the final time in 2031? It has anchored that community for fifty years, and its future is now uncertain. Perhaps that scoreboard talk satisfies some people, but for me, this isn’t a moment to tally points. The last time the franchise moved stadiums, the community surrounding Municipal Stadium bore the consequences—particularly Black residents whose neighborhoods absorbed the impact. That history is too substantial to gloss over here. I’ll take that up in a separate piece.
Kansas City has every right to its negative feelings about this moment. This city has supported this franchise through thick and thin across a long, storied history, and no narrative spin can undercut that fact. The community showed a level of commitment that the team’s leadership ultimately seemed unwilling to return. That’s unfortunate on its own, but the demonization that has accompanied the decision to relocate makes it even harder to swallow. And yes, the team is staying in the metro, but that doesn’t lessen the sting.
If you’ve ever had to move a grandparent out of the home they lived in for decades, you know something fundamental shifts in that transition. Continuity, belonging, and shared history don’t simply transfer to a new place. They’re rooted in the spaces you’re leaving behind. In the end, we owe it to Jackson County and the city of Kansas City to be honest about what happened here. The community held up its end of the bargain, and the team chose a different path. They have the right to make that decision, and their host city has the right to have the truth recorded plainly.