A new Kansas-Missouri border war over the Chiefs is an expensive, stupid mistake | Opinion
Let me tell you about the time — possibly the only time — I spoke up in defense of Donald Trump.
You might remember the moment. It was early 2020, in the last weeks before the world shut down for COVID-19. Trump was president. And the Kansas City Chiefs won their first Super Bowl after five decades of heartache.
Trump (as was then his custom) took to Twitter to celebrate.
“Congratulations to the Kansas City Chiefs on a great game and a fantastic comeback, under immense pressure,” he wrote. “You represented the Great State of Kansas and, in fact, the entire USA, so very well. Our Country is PROUD OF YOU!”
Almost immediately a howl of delight and derision went up among Trump’s many, many critics on social media. The Chiefs play in Missouri — not Kansas — after all.
“It’s Missouri you stone cold idiot,” former Missouri Sen. Claire McCaskill tweeted.
The New York Times and Washington Post wrote up stories about the goof. And Trump, uncharacteristically, deleted his tweet in the face of widespread mockery and replaced it with a similar post celebrating the “Great State of Missouri.”
Here’s the thing: I figured he was half-right the first time.
Kansas City is both Missouri and Kansas, I told anybody who would listen on Twitter that night. (You’ll have to take my word for this: My social media archives for that period no longer exist.) The Chiefs might play in Missouri, I said, but they surely represent both states.
Watch a Chiefs press conference, and you’ll probably see a logo for the University of Kansas Health System in the background. Go at least as far west as Wichita on a Friday during the NFL season — particularly during the playoffs — and you’re likely to encounter a whole bunch of people wearing red.
And when the Chiefs win a Super Bowl, as they do with stunning regularity these days, Massachusetts Street in Lawrence fills up with celebrating KU students.
The state line is an arbitrary divider. Kansas and Missouri share the Chiefs. Always have.
That’s why it’s ridiculous to see the two states suddenly on the cusp of a tug-of-war for the team.
Move across state lines costly, pointless
You probably know the story. On Tuesday, Missouri-side Jackson County rejected a proposed sales tax that would fund a new downtown stadium for the Royals and improvements to Arrowhead Stadium for the Chiefs. That vote was mostly a referendum on how clumsily the Royals had made the case for their move.
But some folks in Kansas see an opportunity. The Kansas City Star on Wednesday reported that a group led by former Kansas House Speaker Ron Ryckman Jr. is now seeking to bring the Chiefs across the state line.
“Jackson County fumbled,” Ryckman said in a text message to The Star. “Now there will be a mad scramble for the ball and we’re in the best position for a scoop and score.”
Overdone football metaphors aside, this is a terrible idea — for Kansas, for Chiefs fans and for the team itself.
It’s a bad idea for Kansas, because bringing the Chiefs east would be pretty costly. A new stadium would reportedly cost $3 billion or more, likely to be financed with STAR bonds. Let’s skip past the details of how that would work and simply note this: Study after study after study has shown that big new sports stadiums don’t produce the economic benefits their advocates promise.
It’s bad for Chiefs fans. The team has been a unifying presence in disunited times. Who wants to see the fan base divided against itself in a battle over whether the team will make its home a few miles east or west of the state line?
And it’s bad for the Chiefs, who risk losing something special if they’re seen to be much less loyal to those very passionate fans than the fans are to them.
The team gloriously represents both Kansas and Missouri. For now. The Chiefs might win a few extra dollars by pitting the two states against each other. Everybody else stands to lose. That would be the real fumble.
Joel Mathis is a regular Kansas City Star and Wichita Eagle Opinion correspondent. He lives in Lawrence with his wife and son. Formerly a writer and editor at Kansas newspapers, he served nine years as a syndicated columnist.
