Sam McDowell

Patrick Mahomes wasn’t great vs. Vegas. But the Chiefs didn’t set him up to succeed

In the aftermath of what should have been a game-altering play — one that turned the punter into a quarterback — the Chiefs earned a new set of downs, prompting Patrick Mahomes to spin around and hurry his offensive line back onto the field. And a few strides away on the sideline, head coach Andy Reid was busy for a moment, instructing a staffer not to return a slammed helmet to tight end Travis Kelce.

The play clock ticked toward 35 seconds.

A surreal sequence has been the center of plenty of conversations over the past couple of days, including my column immediately after the Chiefs lost to the Raiders 20-14 on Christmas Day.

What I didn’t know yet: It was simply a piece of a larger sequence that best tells the story of the worst Chiefs offensive performance at Arrowhead Stadium in recent memory.

I’ll warn you in advance this column begins with a pretty lengthy string of events, but stick with me here, because you’ll soon see why the length is part of the point.

Back to the fake punt: With just 14 seconds left on the play clock for the next snap, Kelce was without his helmet, so his replacement, Blake Bell, sprinted on the field. It was a late change in personnel that prompted a late arrival to the huddle, and therefore a late rush to the line of scrimmage.

Too late, it turned out. Bell scurried to the line but was flagged for not coming completely set before the snap because, well, he didn’t have time to get set.

That’s one play. One glitch in the operation.

There were more.

Just two plays earlier, the Chiefs double-huddled after Mahomes evidently saw players were not lined up properly. But even after a second huddle, the alignment still didn’t look right, and a frustrated Mahomes burned a timeout.

More still.

On the final play of that same drive — yes, these are all packed into a two-minute drill burst — the Chiefs attempted to rush some substitutions onto the field, even though there were just 17 seconds left on the play clock. As a result, they broke the huddle at 10 seconds, and Mahomes then had conversations with individual players, presumably about their assignment on the play. He hurried to snap the ball, barely in time, which seemed to startle running back Isiah Pacheco — he was still tucking in his mouthpiece. Oh, he was the intended receiver on the play, by the way.

After it fell incomplete, a perturbed Mahomes looked toward the sideline.

“Call the (bleeping) play, man,” he said.

The Chiefs would complete the next pass for a short gain, though inbounds, and as Reid called the team’s final timeout with nine seconds remaining rather than letting it drain closer to zero, Mahomes mouthed one word that might has well have encapsulated the previous two minutes in its entirety:

“Why?”

Warned you it was a long description.

A telling sequence, though.

The Chiefs’ offense was downright painful to watch against the Raiders, and Mahomes had one of the worst statistical outings of his career. (PFF graded it as his worst day in the NFL.)

He certainly didn’t play well. But it wasn’t all on him. This is the needed context.

You cannot re-watch that sequence and believe those in his headset put him in the very best position to succeed. Because they didn’t. At times, the operation worked against him more than it did to his benefit.

The re-watch of the entire game prompts something obvious to stand out that had little to do with Mahomes and more to do with those piloting the ship.

Disorganization. The Chiefs were a mess. Gone are the days of lining up a foot offside; they were struggling to know where to line up at all.

I’ll remind you this is a review of a Week 16 performance, not an August morning in St. Joseph.

So much of the conversation revolving around the Chiefs offense has focused on the receivers — with good reason — that sometimes we forget a separate issue can arrive before the play’s intended conclusion. Or, as was the case Monday, before its intended inception.

You wonder why Mahomes played like he was in a hurry? Like he was sped up all day?

Well, he was. By his team’s own alignment issues. By its collective confusion.

Not just in the two-minute drill, either. That was the most glaring stretch but far from the only one. He burned a timeout later in the game after Richie James and Isiah Pacheco found themselves occupying nearly the same blades of grass in the backfield. That was a fourth-down call. Kind of a big play.

“Yeah, that’s mine. That’s my fault on that,” Reid said Wednesday, tapping his chest when I asked him about pre-snap confusion. “I have to make sure that’s right. When I stand up here and tell you that I’ve got a piece of that pie, that’s directly pointed at me. I have to make sure guys can do that. I have to make sure we’re right there.”

We are often in search of a clean and tidy reasoning for why the offense hasn’t played up to the standard it set over the last half-decade, which has invited a national narrative around the old offensive coordinator or the young wide receivers. But the most truthful one is much more complicated and layered.

We can have real conversations about the receivers, the tackles, Kelce becoming a year older yet still garnering plenty of attention, the play-calling, Mahomes not being at his best, and on and on.

But on Monday?

Chaos pre-snap.

Chaos post-snap.

Why wouldn’t we link the two? Is it so unreasonable to believe the former changed the way Mahomes played? It effectively robbed him of the chance to survey the defense, or ponder what he might be looking to do with the ball once he received it, or ponder much of anything other than getting everyone lined up and beating the play clock.

This isn’t trying to deflect blame from Mahomes, who, as I mentioned earlier, objectively played poorly. But don’t stop there.

There was no synchronization to the offense, and that particular sentence isn’t strictly about a loss to the Raiders. But against the Raiders specifically, Mahomes quite evidently played without certainty and with hesitation. You might argue the uncertainty derives from throwing to a group of wide receivers who collectively lead the NFL in drops. There’s probably something to that.

But I’d argue we’re overlooking another factor playing a role. If it’s disorganized before the snap, as it was Monday, what’s to provide confidence it will be run perfectly after the snap? Mahomes was as hesitant as he’s been all season in pulling the trigger to open receivers, which should be his primary focus this week, but it’s enough to make you wonder how much confidence he had the receivers would actually be in the windows we all see all film. Only he knows that answer.

Which is where the Chiefs are — or at least where they were earlier this week. It does not necessarily mean it’s where they will be on Sunday, or in two weeks or the postseason.

But only if they learn from it.

Mahomes said Wednesday the goal is to play the game fast.

The Chiefs have to catch up to the game first, because it looked too fast for them Monday. And that’s before the ball even arrives in his hands.

This story was originally published December 28, 2023 at 7:00 AM.

Sam McDowell
The Kansas City Star
Sam McDowell is a columnist for The Star who has covered Kansas City sports for more than a decade. He has won national awards for columns, features and enterprise work. The Headliner Awards named him the 2024 national sports columnist of the year.
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