Five years ago, that question wouldn’t have existed. It would’ve been a punchline—something muttered sarcastically in AFC meeting rooms as defensive coordinators tried to decipher the unsolvable equation that is #15. Back then, everyone was aboard. The bandwagon was packed, the highlights were endless, and the magic felt limitless.
But look at the graphic again. Look at the caption.
The question isn’t being asked because times are good. It’s being asked because the energy around the NFL has shifted. The narrative has taken a turn. And suddenly, standing with Patrick Mahomes isn’t the automatic choice—it’s a statement. A declaration. A planting of the flag.
As the noise gets louder, as the critics sharpen their takes, one truth remains buried beneath the overreactions and the social-media chaos: the ride is far from over. In fact, the most dangerous version of the Mahomes era may just be emerging.
The Weight of Greatness
To understand why the question “Who’s still here?” even exists, you have to recognize the unreal standard Patrick Mahomes created for himself. He rewrote the rules of the sport. He made the extraordinary feel ordinary—sidearm lasers, left-handed throws, retreating 30 yards before launching darts to the end zone. He made sorcery look routine.
But greatness comes at a steep price: only perfection will do.
When you’re elevated to mythic status, anything less feels like collapse. One interception is treated like a crisis. A narrow loss becomes a headline about the “end of a dynasty.”
This is the mental battlefield of modern sports. Fans love to crown a hero—but they love the idea of that hero falling even more. The “Who’s still standing?” sentiment suggests the crowd is thinning. The fair-weather fans are looking for the next big name, the next hype train.
But for the ones who stay? This isn’t fear. It’s clarity.
The Goldfish Memory of the NFL World
The league forgets quickly.
The question “Who rides with Mahomes ’til the end?” acts as if we don’t already know how these stories tend to finish. But we’ve watched them. We’ve lived them.
Did everyone suddenly forget 13 Seconds? Forget the double-digit Super Bowl comebacks—plural? The defining trait of the Mahomes era has never been the easy wins; it’s the comebacks that should’ve been impossible. It’s the resilience. The defiance. The refusal to bow to the numbers.
Those still standing with Mahomes aren’t being blindly loyal. They’re looking at the evidence.
And the evidence says this:
As long as #15 has the ball and breath in his lungs, you’re not safe.
Doubting Mahomes because of a clunky offense or a few dropped passes is like leaving a movie before the final act. The struggle isn’t a sign of doom—it’s the setup.
What “Riding Until the End” Really Means
The phrase resonates because it taps into the identity of Chiefs Kingdom.
Standing with Mahomes isn’t simply fandom—it’s belonging. It’s sitting through icy nights at Arrowhead. It’s remembering the decades before the golden age. It’s loyalty forged long before the confetti started falling.
Those jumping off the bandwagon now? They were tourists. They showed up for the parades, not the process.
Look at the image: Mahomes, focused, ball in hand, eyes scanning downfield. He’s not checking the crowd. He’s not reading the headlines. He’s locked in on the solution.
That’s why you stay with him. Because while everyone else obsesses over the problem, Patrick Mahomes is already diagnosing the answer.
The Danger of Underestimating the Magician
And then there are the doubters.
Some say the league has “figured him out.” Some say the deep ball is gone, or the roster has thinned, or the magic has faded.
Here’s the warning:
Be careful what you ask for.
There’s nothing more frightening than a generational talent with something to prove. Jordan had that gear. Brady had that gear. Legends become monstrous when the world stops cheering and starts questioning.
Every doubt, every hot take, every prediction against Kansas City—it’s all ammunition.
And if you hop off now, don’t expect a seat when the next parade marches down Grand Boulevard.
The Bottom Line
So who’s still standing with Patrick Mahomes?
The people who understand how greatness works.
The ones who know that every dynasty faces turbulence.
The ones who realize the season isn’t decided in November—or by narratives crafted online.
The “end” referenced in the graphic isn’t this week or next month. The end comes when the final seconds of February expire. Until then, the story belongs to the man in red with the ball and the brilliance to rewrite the script at any moment.
Riding with Mahomes when the path gets rough isn’t weakness—it’s wisdom. Because when the smoke clears and the next unbelievable comeback unfolds, the ones who stayed won’t be shocked.
They’ll simply be correct.
The ride continues. And the best part may not have even started yet.
