Last game at Arrowhead will be sad day for this Chiefs fan | Opinion

I was born in 1978, so thankfully I didn’t know about Chiefs football for much of the 1980s. I remember my first game in 1989 like yesterday. I was 12 years old, sitting in the top row of the stadium. Troy Aikman and the Cowboys were in town. They went 1-15 that season, and we won 36-28 — but that’s not what I remember.

Back then, there was an open-air coaches’ box at the top of the stadium. When we scored, I’d stand on my seat, turn around, and high-five the coaches. James Dixon ran a kickoff back for a Cowboys touchdown and promptly did the Nestea Plunge. It made the score more respectable, but the Chiefs rolled that day.

I was hooked — the smells, the music, the tailgating. The home of the CHIEFS.

My parents were teachers and didn’t have a lot of money but my dad found a way to take me to Arrowhead at least once a year after that. I insisted he take I-70, even though Highway 36 from Hannibal was faster. I loved how Arrowhead appeared as you crested that last hill near 40 Highway in Independence.

In the early ’90s, opposing teams coming to Arrowhead knew two things:

1. They would experience crowd noise like nowhere else; and

2. They were going to get hit.

Derrick Thomas, Neil Smith, Bill Maas, Dino Hackett, Lloyd Burruss, Albert Lewis, Kevin Ross, Dan Saleaumua, Jayice Pearson, Deron Cherry — just to name a few — were going to make sure of it. Those names roll off my tongue not just because they were great, but because they were on a poster called “The TRIBE” hanging in my bedroom — the same poster every young Chiefs fan had at the time. I’d still argue it’s the best sports poster of all time.

There wasn’t much offense — three yards and a cloud of Nigerian dust — but we always thought it was our year. Surely Marty was going to take us to the promised land this year.

In college, I majored in Hospitality and Restaurant Administration. I know you don’t need a degree to work in that field — but I wanted to work in sports. I was hired by Levy Restaurants to manage the suites at Arrowhead Stadium. I was 21 and “officing” inside Arrowhead. It was surreal, and I loved every second of it.

I loved the team — and now the Chiefs were my client.

Then the Chiefs hired me directly. Lamar had just built the Pavilion at Arrowhead. For five seasons, I managed the building and, on game days, oversaw the Wolfpack Club, the Chiefs Ambassadors Tent, and the Tailgate Tent. My department worked with the Red Coaters and the Ambassadors — some of the same people I idolized as a kid.

In 2006, we had our first child. We returned to Springfield to advance my career, but I struggled to replicate the excitement of a game day at Arrowhead. I knew I wanted to get back — I just didn’t know how.

In 2012, I got the call. I didn’t hesitate.

Arrowhead was newly renovated and felt different — but was still Arrowhead. I was home. In 2014, I was a finalist for my dream job with the Chiefs. I didn’t get it. I was gutted, and once again, it was time to return to Springfield.

I either attended or worked approximately 175 events at Arrowhead, including roughly 125 Chiefs games. Countless memories — both good and bad: my first game, Joe Montana coming to Kansas City, DT being DT, Trent Green and Priest Holmes, Alex Smith and Jamaal Charles. The no-punt playoff game. Marcus Mariota catching his own pass for a touchdown. I was there the day of the Jovan Belcher incident.

Then Andy, Pat, Travis, and Chris changed everything. They brought magic back to Arrowhead.

I never felt the need to look at my phone while I was there — no emails, no Instagram. Being present was effortless.

The bottom line is this: Arrowhead is special. It’s different.

I’m not here to say this is a stupid move. From a business standpoint, I understand. But some venues transcend business — Wrigley, Fenway, Chavez Ravine, Lambeau … Arrowhead.

Now Arrowhead will be remembered like the Boston Garden or the Astrodome.

Maybe I should be angry, but I’m not — I’m just sad. Angry at a state that had 2 NFL franchises and will soon have none. Angry at billionaires who largely support politicians that cut welfare from fans that live on Troost but have no problem taking taxpayer-funded handouts benefiting their business. Angry my friend’s 103-year-old grandmother wants to watch the Chiefs but struggles with all the damn streaming services. Angry that enough is never enough. But in the end, I’m sad for the city I love, for the little boy I once was, and for everyone like me who holds Arrowhead so dear.

I’ve watched the Chiefs play in cities across the country. I’ve been to some of the new retractable-roof stadiums, and to Jerry’s World. One thing is crystal clear: you may get the Super Bowls and the Final Fours, but you will never replicate an atmosphere like Arrowhead.

The NFC Championship game in St. Louis felt like I was in a shopping mall. Vegas is only cool because of its convenience. The marketing will say, “It’s about the fans — we make the atmosphere.” That narrative has already started. But those who’ve traveled with the team know that’s not true.

Those days will soon be gone.

I’ll enjoy the next five seasons at Arrowhead. I’ll try to stay positive. But that last game at Arrowhead will be a very sad day for this Chiefs fan. I know I won’t be alone.

I said if the Chiefs stayed in the market, I’d stay with them — and I will. I’m sure I’ll go to the new stadium, and I’m sure it will be spectacular.

Lord knows, I can always catch up on emails.

Bob Newell lives in Springfield.

This article originally appeared on Springfield News-Leader: Chiefs will never replicate Arrowhead's atmosphere in Kansas | Opinion