Patrick Mahomes Gets Help from 3 Black Boys, What Happens Next Stuns Everyone!
The storm raged, relentless and unforgiving. Sheets of rain hammered against the sleek black car as it sped down the desolate highway. The headlights barely cut through the downpour, and the windshield wipers struggled to keep up. Inside, Patrick Mahomes gripped the wheel, his jaw clenched with frustration. Time was slipping away. He had a billion-dollar deal waiting, a meeting that could define his legacy. But then, suddenly—boom! A violent jolt. A sickening thud. The car lurched to the side, skidding over the slick pavement before coming to a complete stop.
No signal. No passing cars. No backup.
For the first time in a long time, Patrick was truly stranded.
The rain hammered against the windshield, a relentless drumming force that drowned out the sound of the engine. Patrick tightened his grip on the steering wheel, his knuckles white as he stared at the glowing digits on the dashboard. Only 45 minutes until his billion-dollar business meeting in the city. He exhaled sharply. He had spent years building his name, crafting a career based on talent and dedication. This deal was supposed to be another defining chapter, but the universe had other plans.
A deafening thud jolted the car, followed by an unsettling pull to the right. The steering wheel fought against him. Within seconds, the vehicle lurched toward the shoulder. Patrick instinctively hit the brakes, the tires skidding slightly on the wet pavement before coming to a stop. His heart pounded in his chest. He unfastened his seatbelt and stepped out into the storm. The cold rain soaked through his tailored suit, chilling him to the bone. He ran a hand through his damp hair, muttering a quiet curse under his breath.
The rear tire was completely blown, shredded rubber clinging to the wheel well like torn flesh. The rim was barely spared from damage. Patrick sighed, looking around. The road stretched endlessly in both directions—dark, empty, and desolate. There were no houses, no passing cars. Just the wind howling through the fields, the ticking of the cooling engine.
Patrick reached for his phone, but there was no signal. He muttered a curse under his breath. This wasn’t a problem he could solve with a call to an assistant or roadside service. He was stranded, drenched, and painfully aware that time was slipping through his fingers. Changing a tire wasn’t exactly in his skill set—he had spent his life on football fields, not under the hood of a car. He leaned against the side of the vehicle, exhaling through his nose, trying to think. Maybe he could walk and find help, but the fields stretched on for miles.
Then, through the downpour, faint laughter broke through. Patrick squinted, blinking against the rain. At first, he thought it was the wind playing tricks on him, but no—there were voices, light and unbothered, cutting through the dreary storm like a song.
Three figures emerged, riding their bicycles through the rain. They rode easily through the storm, undeterred by the mud splashing beneath their tires. As they drew closer, the dim glow of a distant streetlight revealed their faces—three black teenage boys, no older than 15. They were chatting and grinning as if they had no care in the world. One of them, the tallest with curly hair tucked beneath a worn-out blue raincoat, noticed Patrick first.
“Hey, mister! You need some help?” he called out, breaking away from his bike and rolling toward Patrick.
Patrick blinked, staring in disbelief. Help? In the middle of nowhere? In the middle of a storm?
He hesitated for a moment, then let out a breath. “Yeah, I really do,” he admitted.
The three boys hopped off their bikes, raincoats splattered with mud, sneakers soaked from the puddles they’d ridden through. Yet, despite the storm, their spirits remained unshaken. The tallest boy, whom Patrick later learned was named Ethan, approached first. He pushed his wet curls out of his eyes and crouched down to inspect the blown tire.
“You got a spare?” he asked.
“Yeah, in the trunk,” Patrick replied, still processing the situation.
Ethan nodded, glancing at his two friends. “All right, Tony, grab the jack. Peter, you steady the car.”
Patrick watched in quiet amazement as the three boys moved with a practiced ease. Tony, a stocky boy with a gap-toothed grin, ran to the trunk and pulled out the jack and lug wrench like he had done it a hundred times before. Peter, the quietest of the three, pressed his hands firmly against the car’s body to keep it steady. Ethan, the leader, got to work loosening the lug nuts with steady hands.
“You done this before?” Patrick asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.
Ethan grinned, looking up briefly. “A couple of times. Mostly on bikes, but hey, tires are tires.”
Patrick let out a small chuckle despite himself. Here he was—a man who had spent decades performing stunts on film sets, facing some of the most intense sequences imaginable. Yet, there he stood, utterly useless in the rain while three teenagers handled his problem like seasoned pros.
The storm raged on around them, wind whipping against their soaked clothes. But the boys remained undeterred, working with the same energy and confidence as if they were changing a tire on a sunny afternoon.
“You don’t mind getting wet?” Patrick asked, more to himself than to them.
Peter, who had barely spoken, shrugged. “It’s just rain.”
Patrick smirked. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen people treat kindness as casually as breathing.
Within minutes, Ethan had removed the damaged tire and replaced it with the spare. Tony handed him the wrench, and together, they secured the lug nuts, double-checking each one.
“Done,” Ethan announced, wiping his hands on his already drenched jeans.
Patrick looked at the newly fitted tire, then back at the boys. In less than 20 minutes, they had turned what felt like a disaster into nothing more than a minor inconvenience.
“You really pulled it off,” Patrick said, his voice filled with disbelief and gratitude.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a few crisp bills. “Here, take this. You earned it.”
Ethan held up his hands, shaking his head. “We’re good.”
Patrick frowned. “Are you sure? It’s the least I can do.”
Tony grinned. “You needed help, so we helped. That’s it.”
For the first time in a long time, Patrick found himself at a loss for words as they hopped back on their bikes. Ethan called over his shoulder, “Drive safe, mister.”
Patrick watched them disappear into the storm, their laughter trailing behind them. For years, he had lived in a world where favors always came with expectations. Where generosity was often calculated. But tonight, these kids had reminded him of something different—something simple and pure.
As he climbed back into his car, gripping the steering wheel, Patrick realized that what had just happened wasn’t just an act of kindness. It was a lesson.
The meeting was successful. Another billion-dollar deal signed, and Patrick’s team clapped him on the back, congratulating him on yet another victory. But as he sat in his office later, staring out at the city skyline, he realized something strange.
The boys hadn’t just helped him fix a tire—they had reminded him of something he hadn’t even realized he’d lost. His life had been filled with accomplishments and deals, but he had lost touch with the simplicity of kindness.
Patrick leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly. He had to go back.
The next morning, he drove to the small town where he had met the boys. When he arrived, he found them outside the diner, laughing together. Ethan, Tony, and Peter—exactly as he had remembered them. They hadn’t changed a bit.
“You really pulled it off,” Ethan said, still amazed by what had happened.
Patrick smiled. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”
The kindness they had shown him had left a lasting impact. It had shifted his perspective on life, and he knew now that this was what truly mattered—not the deals, the fame, or the recognition—but simple, uncalculated kindness.
And as he stood with the boys, watching their community transform, Patrick realized that sometimes, the smallest acts of kindness could change everything.
Patrick Mahomes Confirms He’s Worn the Same Underwear for Every NFL Game Since Rookie Year: ‘I Wash ‘Em’
“As long as I’m winning football games, I’ll keep the superstition going,” the Super Bowl champ told Peyton and Eli Manning of his ritual
Mikayla Schmidt/Kansas City Chiefs via AP
Patrick Mahomes in Frankfurt, Germany, on Nov. 5, 2023
Patrick Mahomes has confirmed the red-underwear rumors.
Appearing on ESPN’s ManningCast for Monday Night Football, the Kansas City Chiefs quarterback admitted to Peyton and Eli Manning that he wears the same pair of underwear for every game.
“First, my wife Brittany got them for me, so I’m not throwin’ y’all down, but I have to wear ’em, ya know,” Mahomes, 28, told the brothers of his former high-school sweetheart, 28.
“At the same time, I threw ’em on that first season [and] we had a pretty good season that season,” he explained of how it all started back in 2017.
Frazer Harrison/Getty
Patrick Mahomes and Brittany Mahomes on July 12, 2023, in Hollywood, California
Related: Patrick Mahomes Wears the Same Pair of Red Underwear for Every NFL Game, Says Chiefs’ Chad Henne
“I only wear ’em for game day, though,” he continued during his Denver Broncos and Buffalo Bills game commentary, noting “they’re not too worn down” or “nasty.”
“I clean ’em. I wash ’em. Every once in a while, at least,” joked Mahomes. “I mean, if we’re on a hot streak, I can’t wash ’em, you know? I’ve gotta just keep it rolling.”
Added the athlete, “As long as I’m winning football games, I’ll keep the superstition going.”
The Super Bowl 2023 champ’s superstitious ritual was revealed back in February by the Chiefs’ former backup quarterback, Chad Henne, who gave a glimpse into Mahomes’ game-day prep during a guest spot on The Adam Schefter Podcast.
“He has a baseball background, so he has to have a certain thing each and every day,” Henne shared of the Kansas City Royals part owner. “He comes in, he does his work. His notes are written out a certain way. Same pair of underwear, which probably not a lot of people know, on game day. He’s been wearing it since I’ve been part of it.”
When pressed for more details, Henne added, “They’re red. I’m not sure if they’re Hanes or if they’re Lululemon, but it’s one or two of those brands, and ever since he comes in the locker room — boom, it’s right there. I’ll be stretching, and like I said, you just glimpse up, and you’re like, ‘Damn, kid’s wearing them again.’ “
“This definitely has to be a superstition and a good-luck charm, for sure,” he added.
In addition to racking up red-underwear wins, Mahomes is now modeling at-home loungewear professionally, as he and his family just launched a holiday campaign with Kim Kardashian’s SKIMS.
“This is our first campaign as a family, and shooting for SKIMS all together was an awesome moment,” the two-time NFL MVP said in a press release of the family’s matching red-and-black checkered pajama sets.
Added Mahomes, “I’m all about comfort and these sets will be my go-to at home all season.”
