I’m not old enough to remember the first Super Bowl. It was actually called the AFL-NFL Championship Game and later became known as Super Bowl I. That was January 1967 and the Kansas City Chiefs lost to the Green Bay Packers. But I remember the rest of them, from II to LIV.
“A Tradition in Red” by Ken Wilson. Oil painting on birch panel. 24 inches x 48 inches.
1968 is probably when I did my first sports drawing. I think it was in colored pencil or crayon. Probably on ruled paper with a ragged edge from being pulled out of a spiral notebook. I recall it was of Bart Starr leading the Packers down the field against the Raiders, who I had already labeled evil (I was right). My mom hung it in the kitchen above our little table the week leading up to Super Bowl II, which Green Bay won. The following year I got caught up in Joe Namath fever and was elated when the Jets shocked the world and beat the heavily favored Colts. I had drawings of Broadway Joe all over my room.
But everything changed in this fan’s life in 1969. The Royals began playing in Kansas City that summer and I became a die-hard fan of the boys in blue. When summer rolled into fall I tied my loyalty to the Chiefs, which also began a lifelong journey.
Len Dawson and the Chiefs huddle during Super Bowl IV. Graphite on paper.
It was January 11, 1970. My family was visiting my grandparents. Two television stations had broadcast towers near enough their farm in southwestern Kansas that their antenna could pull in a signal. I know one was NBC, because I always loved getting to watch Johnny Carson when I stayed with Grandma and Grandpa. The other, fortunately, was CBS, which broadcast Super Bowl IV that day.
I watched, spellbound, as the Chiefs dominated the fiercely favored Vikings. A Len Dawson pass to Otis Taylor, who knocked over a Viking defender on his way to the end zone. The Chiefs defense—Willie Lanier, Bobby Bell, Buck Buchanan, Curley Culp, Emmitt Thomas—shutting down the Minnesota offense. Jan Stenerud deftly soccer-style-kicking field goals through the uprights. Johnny Robinson, picking off a Joe Kapp pass in the fourth quarter and signaling with an index finger, “We’re Number 1” as he sat on the Tulane Stadium turf. Hank Stram being hoisted on the shoulders of his jubilant, victorious players. What a day to be a Chiefs fan! It was obviously going to be a long, glorious run with many more championships ahead. Or so I thought.
Mark and me, still huge Chiefs fans 50 years later.
Christmas Day 1970 the entire family came to our house. There may have been dinner and presents, I don’t know. They didn’t have my attention that day. I settled in with my “brother” cousin Mark, whom to this day is the biggest Chiefs fan I know, to watch the Chiefs take on Miami in the AFC championship game. A trip to Super Bowl V was on the line, and we just knew our team was on its way to a second consecutive title. We were giddy with anticipation.
The Chiefs, behind Len Dawson and running back Ed Podolak, scored on their first two possessions to go up, 10-0. But the Dolphins, led by Hall of Fame quarterback Bob Griese, tied it at halftime. Late in the fourth quarter the Chiefs took a 24-17 lead. But with just under a minute and a half to go in the game, the Dolphins scored a game-tying touchdown. Ed Podolak took the ensuing kickoff 78 yards to the Miami 22 yard line. We were jumping up and down, screaming with excitement. After three more plays the ball was on the 15 and only 35 ticks were left on the clock. The crowd in Kansas City’s Municipal Stadium (the final game the Chiefs played there) roared as Jan Stenerud trotted onto the field for the apparent game-winning field goal to send the Chiefs back to the Super Bowl. A chip shot, for sure. This game looked to be over. But the kick sailed wide to the right and the game went into overtime. Both Stenerud and the Dolphin’s Garo Yepremian missed possible game-ending field goal attempts and the contest, which remains the NFL’s longest game, moved into a second overtime. Halfway through the period Yepremian got a second chance. This time, he made it count. The Dolphins were headed to the Super Bowl and Chiefs fans got their first taste of what would be a nearly fifty-year cycle of hopefulness followed by heartbreak.
Derrick Thomas. Graphite on paper. One of the sketches I used for the painting.
I often wonder “what if”… what if Stenerud’s kick had been true? What if the Chiefs had won that game? It would have been their third appearance in the first five Super Bowls. Could they have beaten Dallas? If so, what might have come after that? Instead of being a historical footnote as the losing team in the longest game ever played, they’d be back-to-back NFL champs. Maybe they go on to be one of those teams that goes on a run of titles like the Steelers, 49ers, Cowboys, or Patriots. But “what if” didn’t happen. What happened was a five-decade run of heartbreak.
There have been disappointing losses, and a remarkable run of playoff futility at Arrowhead Stadium. But the greatest heartbreak was the death of Derrick Thomas following a car accident in 2000. D.T. was a Chiefs icon. He is still today one of the greatest pass rushers of all time. He was and remains beloved in Kansas City where he was involved in a seemingly endless array of charitable causes. Twenty years after his tragic death, his and Neil Smith’s Third and Long Foundation continues to change the lives of countless urban children facing challenging and life-threatening situations. The NFL named him Man of the Year in 1993. He was posthumously enshrined in the Pro Football Hall of Fame in 2009.
When I decided to create this painting in 2016 I set out to select ten players that I thought represented the greatest Chiefs of all time. Some were obvious: D.T., Lenny the Cool, Bell, Lanier, Buchanan, and Tony Gonzalez. Then there were others to consider: Will Shields, Emmitt Thomas, Culp, Robinson, Stenerud—all in the Chiefs Hall of Fame. Some greats I didn’t consider include Joe Montana, Marcus Allen, Warren Moon, and Mike Webster, because the greatest parts of their careers are associated with other teams.
What made it tougher was that none of these great players every played for the Chiefs in the Super Bowl. This team knocked on the door, and had great opportunities, but heartbreak just seemed to always lie in its path. It’s a lot easier to identify sports heroes when they wear rings.
I consulted friends and family members for input. I read every website or op-ed I could find to get other opinions as to who should be in the top ten. Two things were bothering me, though. First, all of the players I had selected were from the distant past or, in the case of Tony G., retired. I felt the painting needed a shot of current blood. Two then-current members of the team, Jamaal Charles and Tamba Hali, I think are locks for the Chiefs Hall of Fame. So, I put them in and expanded the painting to 12 players. Second, I was hungry. So I made a Chiefs-inspired flapjack (this video shows why I work in oil paint, not pancake batter).
Unfortunately, not every deserving player made the cut. In fact, a few Chiefs fans have asked why I included Otis Taylor, who is not in the Chiefs Hall of Fame, but not Jan Stenerud, who is. The short answer is, it’s my painting and I get to decide who’s in it. But the real reason is purely emotional. Otis Taylor caught that pass and ran over that Viking on his way to paydirt in Super Bowl IV. The Chiefs didn’t get a chance to face the Dallas Cowboys in Super Bowl V because Jan Stenerud missed two potential game-winning field goals. So, Otis in, Jan out. And that’s my final answer.
As with all my sports composites, this one began with a series of sketches of the players. Sometimes I have to make two or three sketches of a player to decide which is the right pose for the painting. Next, I make photocopies of my drawings in the proper scale and lay them out on my board to design the composition I want. I determine the background I want to use. Then I sketch the figures on the board. I typically paint the darkest outlines first, to make sure the perspective is correct. If I need to make changes or adjustments at this point, it’s fairly easy to do. Then I start adding thin layers of color, followed by thicker layers of paint.
“A Tradition in Red” is different from most of my sports composites as I used palette knives and heavy paint in the final application. The result is that the piece has less precision but more texture than normal. I chose the Kansas City skyline for the background and added the goalpost because I wanted to have Tony G. “slam-dunking” a touchdown pass through it.
It’s been a lot of fun to get reactions from Chiefs fans to this piece, and I love getting photos of them with their prints. Last I counted, the prints of this piece are in more than 10 states and two countries outside the US.
When I painted this piece in the 2016 NFL season, the Chiefs hadn’t drafted Patrick Mahomes and the Legend of Zoom had not yet been born. Little did I, or any fan, have any idea that in just over three years the Chiefs would win the Super Bowl. But that’s another painting, and it’s the rest of the story (to be continued)…