Why Andy Reid is beloved for reviving the Kansas City Chiefs ... but for much more, too
Thirty minutes or so northeast of Kansas City on a soybean farm in Orrick, Missouri, Precision Mazes last month unveiled the “Andy Reid Project” — a 27-acre likeness of the Chiefs’ coach.
For some perspective on its dimensions, owner Rob Stouffer’s research told him each letter in the “THANKS COACH!” that underscores Reid’s image is 74 NFL footballs tall and that it would take 723,096 normal-sized face shields to cover the rendering of Reid’s face.
Also, calculated with analytics on the circumference of typical burgers, Stouffer says you could fit 22,058 cheeseburgers within the mouth of the depiction — a fine distinction to offer considering how often Reid refers to cheeseburgers as the ultimate celebratory meal.
Apprised of this by KSHB’s Mick Shaffer during a media Zoom teleconference in December, Reid smiled and quipped, “How ‘bout that? Protein burger, it sounds like, with soybean(s).”
Then Reid joked that he wished Stouffer had had “a little more to work with” when it came to him and added that the work was “a lot better than what the aliens” do — presumably referring to crop circles mysteries. No wonder Precision Mazes has added “Better than the aliens” to its Twitter profile.
But there’s something else that might be taken from Stouffer’s first non-commissioned work, which like their other mazes, he says, are “not really something that you can appreciate from the ground.”
Since knowing Reid as an assistant coach at Missouri, we’ve appreciated and admired him from near and afar for decades now and day-in and day-out since he came to Kansas City in 2013.
But a so-called 30,000-foot view brings it all into focus when it comes to the fifth-winningest coach in NFL history, who guided the Chiefs to their first Super Bowl triumph in 50 years and has them on trajectory for more to come as they enter the AFC Championship Game against Buffalo on Sunday at Arrowhead Stadium.
This mustachioed 62-year-old face of understated charisma actually is a tapestry of thousands of components: a brilliant strategist; nurturing coach and friend; the Patrick Mahomes’ whisperer; infinite poise; humorist; self-deprecator; believer in second-chances; humanitarian; devotion to his roots; resilience through personal tragedy; a modern Renaissance man of sorts who once considered being a writer and perhaps could have been an artist …
Etc, etc., etc. And then some.
Perhaps most striking of all, though, Reid quite naturally exudes an accessibility that makes him an irresistible person — the sort of guy Q39 loves having as such a frequent customer that it confirms there is “a secret menu item” in his name, occasionally offered on the menu, featuring burnt ends, Q39 spiced onion straws served with barbecue aioli, macaroni and cheese with five cheeses and herb breadcrumbs. And ... a diet soda.
“Who doesn’t?” love Reid, said chef and owner Rob Magee, who noted Reid came right to Q39 from the airport after returning from the Super Bowl LIV victory. “He’s got a heart of gold.”
Indeed, there’s a broader reason for that desire for association and that there’s such a thing as St. Andy Reid Prayer Candles that goes well beyond what he’s delivered on the field, a reason that most of the NFL was rooting for Reid to win the Super Bowl last season.
It’s his sheer humanity.
You can see that in how he engages with about anyone, from the endearing way he sits on the sidelines with Mahomes to his manner with other current players and coaches and even in how former players regard him.
“Andy is a special human being … He’s going to always do what he can (for others) even if he’s not benefiting from it,” former Chiefs linebacker Dee Ford said when I asked him about Reid at a 49ers media session before the Super Bowl last season. He later added, “He doesn’t look at this as what he can gain.”
You can see it in how connects to Special Olympics competitors to scenes with his family visible after games and even in how he speaks with media members.
Such as his habit of opening news conferences with a statement and then saying, “Time’s yours.”
“I love that about him,” said Kathy Nelson, president of the Kansas City Sports Commission.
As a former television journalist, she has extra appreciation of both his respectful behavior and his understanding of the media as a conduit.
“To me, that’s him telling everyone in our city that he understands that our time is as valuable as his time,” she said. “And he’s willing to take that time for us.”
She loves the concept behind the saying so much that she’s been known to use it during meetings such as Super Bowl-parade preparation last year … and was pleased at how effective it was.
We know him best for what he’s done as the coach, of course. But it’s our sense of his character that makes him so appealing and reassuring. that helped compel Stouffer to thus honor him and Nelson to say how struck she is by what seems to be a “a caring heart.”
That’s been evident in so many ways across the years, including in ways people have asked not to make public about the helping hands extended by Reid and his wife, Tammy.
That virtue of his is never more clear than in the worst of times.
Like the way Reid responded when he learned Doug Hembrough, a former Mizzou lineman of his, had been diagnosed with brain cancer in December 2004. Even amid what would become a run to the Super Bowl, Reid spoke at length on the phone with Hembrough in the weeks to come.
Weeks later, when Hembrough’s health still was manageable, he and his brothers were Reid’s guests in Jacksonville, where Reid’s Eagles would play the New England Patriots. The day before the game, Hembrough spent hours in Reid’s hotel suite.
While Reid wanted to talk about Hembrough’s family and his battle with glioblastoma, Hembrough wanted to talk about the game.
“I was like, ‘What are you doing (in this game situation)?’ He was like, ‘Will you shut up — how’s your head?’ ” the ever-animated Hembrough recalled with a laugh over lunch in the summer of 2005 in his hometown of Springfield, Ill. “I said, ‘Shut up — what are you going to do to stop that guy?’ ”
A few months later, as Hembrough’s condition dramatically worsened, Reid spoke with him on the phone for some 15 minutes even as Hembrough was unable to respond.
When the Reids’ son Garrett died seven years later, the Philadelphia Inquirer wrote that those who spoke to him at the funeral described Reid as “strong” and seeking to comfort others. At one point, the Inquirer wrote, he wrapped former assistant coach (and current Ravens coach) John Harbaugh in a bear hug and told him, “Everything will be alright.”
Such moving faith of his is part of our faith in who he is.
Which in turn helps explain why Dennis Simmons wrote and recorded a (really fun) song called “We Love Big Red” by Heather and the Waterboys.
“The records are fallin’ … History’s callin’ … The show’s enthrallin’ ...”
“It has to be said … We Love Big Red,” he wrote in part, later adding a reference to owner Clark Hunt hiring Reid. “It’s sweeter than candy since Clark got Andy.”
Simmons previously co-wrote and recorded the “Schottenheimer Polka” during the 1993-94 season. But when the Bills knocked them out of the playoffs, he resolved not to write another Chiefs song until they won the Super Bowl again.
Still, it wasn’t just that long-awaited breakthrough that moved him to write another again, either.
“Coach Reid will be in the (Pro Football) Hall of Fame,” Simmons said in an email. “By all accounts I’ve heard, Andy Reid is already a Hall of Fame human being, and for that We Love Big Red!”
Just like the message, really, implied by the harvested soybean field.
The project wasn’t meant to be permanent, but Stouffer knows it will be fondly remembered and that its essence will endure. And that it will always be a point of pride.
Not just because of the work but because of the subject: He had conviction about singling out Reid, after all, because he knew he was someone that everybody loves.
This story was originally published January 21, 2021 at 5:00 AM.