Patrick Mahomes and the Barber Shop Stand
It was a bright morning in the city, the kind of day where everything seemed to fall into place. Patrick Mahomes, or “Pat” as the world knew him, had decided to take a break from his hectic schedule. No meetings, no interviews, just a rare moment of peace. As he strolled down the sidewalk, his mind wandered to the small but significant things, like a fresh haircut. He’d always believed that a good cut was more than just about looking sharp; it was about feeling put together, ready to face whatever came next.
As he walked, people recognized him, greeted him warmly, and he waved back, always grounded despite his fame. It wasn’t his football legacy that made him a household name, but his down-to-earth nature. That morning, he happened to pass by a high-end barbershop—Vincent’s Grooming Lounge. Something about the place caught his eye: the sleek design, the polished mahogany interior, the soft jazz playing inside. It had an expensive aura, and a part of him was intrigued. He decided to check it out.
Pat pulled open the glass door and stepped inside. The air in the room shifted immediately—subtle but palpable. The receptionist, a young man in a white shirt, gave him a polite but cautious smile. The barbers paused their work, stealing quick glances through the mirrors. Pat felt it: a shift. It wasn’t overt, but it was there. He smiled, trying to keep the mood light.
“Hey, brother,” Pat said, leaning on the polished wood counter. “You all got room for a walk-in?”
The receptionist hesitated. It was only a second, but Pat caught it. The young man glanced at the other barbers before replying, “Uh, we’re actually fully booked today, sir.”
Pat glanced around. The shop had five stations, but only three were occupied. Empty chairs sat in plain sight. He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t push the issue immediately. “Fully booked, huh?” he said casually. “You sure about that?”
The receptionist nodded quickly. “Appointments only.”
Before Pat could respond, a well-dressed man walked in. The barbers immediately acknowledged him with smiles and gestures to an empty chair. “Mr. Callaway, right on time! Take a seat.”
Pat’s chest tightened—not out of anger, but recognition. He knew that look. The hesitation, the subtle assumption that people like him didn’t belong. He felt it everywhere, and today was no different. He could’ve walked out right then, gone to any of the other dozens of barber shops in the city that would have welcomed him. But something in him refused to leave without making a stand. It wasn’t about a haircut anymore. It was about respect. He had been denied simply because of who he was, not because the shop was truly booked.
The tension in the shop grew palpable. The barbers were avoiding eye contact, the receptionist fidgeting with the schedule book. Pat could sense it, and the unease in the room only deepened. He started to step back, his eyes scanning the room one last time, then he turned toward the door. Just as he did, an older man, sitting in one of the chairs, spoke up.
“Pat,” the man said, his voice steady, “you don’t need this place. Ain’t nothing here for you. Go where you’re wanted.”
Pat stopped, looked back at the man, and nodded. He wasn’t angry. He appreciated the sentiment. He left the shop without another word.
The city hummed around him as he stepped back out into the streets. Life went on, but Pat couldn’t shake the feeling that something deeper had just occurred. He needed a haircut, sure, but more than that, he needed respect. He took out his phone and went live on Instagram. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t ranting. He simply shared what had just happened—how he had been denied entry into the shop despite their claims of being fully booked.
His followers flooded in with messages of support, sharing their outrage, but also their solidarity. “Pat, you don’t need to put up with this!” one comment read. “This is messed up,” another said. And as he spoke, more people joined, some angry, some inspired. Pat explained that it wasn’t just about him. It was about the principle of respect, and how too many people had experienced the same kind of subtle exclusion without a platform to speak up.
Inside the shop, things were tense. The barbers could feel the eyes of the world upon them, and Devon, a young barber in the back, watched with unease. The shop had been caught in a lie, and now the world was watching them try to cover it up. But something shifted when Devon stepped forward, tentative but resolute.
“I can take him,” Devon said, his voice barely above a whisper. Every head in the room turned. The manager stepped forward, his voice cold and sharp, telling Devon to step back. But Devon didn’t. He stood his ground.
“I don’t have a client for another hour. I’ll take him,” Devon repeated, louder this time. The room was silent, the other barbers frozen. The manager’s face twisted in anger, but Devon didn’t flinch.
Pat saw it. The young barber was risking his job to do what was right. Devon’s decision would have consequences, but Pat appreciated his stand.
The manager finally relented, setting Devon up for the cut. Pat took a seat, acknowledging the young man’s bravery with a nod. As the clippers buzzed, Pat’s live stream continued, the world watching the moment unfold. The manager and receptionist could only watch as their carefully crafted world crumbled under the weight of their own bias.
When Devon finished the cut, he paused. He looked at the manager. “I quit,” he said, his voice firm. The room went silent. The other barbers froze, and the receptionist paled. The manager looked panicked, but Devon didn’t back down. “I can’t work here anymore. Not like this.”
Pat smiled. This was bigger than a haircut, and Devon had just proven that doing what’s right always pays off.
Days passed, and the story continued to spread. The shop’s reputation shattered, and Vincent’s Grooming Lounge found itself in the midst of a public relations nightmare. But they weren’t the only ones feeling the heat. Devon had been offered a spot at a respected, black-owned barbershop, King’s Cuts, where he would finally be able to work in an environment that truly respected him.
Pat didn’t stop there. He went to King’s Cuts, not to make a scene, but to show his support for Devon. The energy was different there—laughter, real conversations, a sense of belonging. Pat even went live again, telling his followers, “If you need a cut, this is the place to go. King’s Cuts, where respect is the standard.”
The world had seen what happened in that barbershop, and now, things were changing. Vincent’s Grooming Lounge issued a public apology, acknowledging their mistakes and pledging to do better. They promised free haircuts for underprivileged kids and vowed to make their shop more inclusive.
But for Pat and Devon, this wasn’t about apologies. It was about making sure that the next kid who walked into a barbershop would never have to feel the way Pat did that day.
One refusal had sparked a movement. One stand had started a conversation. And the world was listening.
Patrick Mahomes’ barber believes his scissors can be Super Bowl game-changer
PHOENIX — Patrick Mahomes is still just 27, and whether he wins his second Super Bowl championship or not, no one should dispute that he is the heir apparent to the Tom Brady throne.
The man who believes he holds the key to Mahomes finding a way to beat the Eagles would prefer Hair Apparent.
He is Mahomes’ barber, and he will be arriving Friday at the team hotel to give haircuts to Mahomes and 21 of his Chiefs teammates.
When DeJuan Bonds was forced to miss Super Bowl LV, Mahomes lost to Brady and the Bucs.
“When we were in the last one, since we were in COVID, they had set up a barber setup for me at the Arrowhead facility, but I caught COVID, so they couldn’t get haircuts,” Bonds told The Post.
“So Pat went to the Super Bowl busted — no haircut. That’s why we lost. ’Cause he didn’t have a haircut.”
Bonds put down his scissors when he sat in the Hard Rock Stadium stands for Super Bowl LIV, when Mahomes beat the 49ers.
“It was just cool to know and just see my haircut on TV, in the newspaper, that kinda thing,” Bonds said.
Bonds has given Mahomes haircuts on a weekly basis following Mahomes rookie season at Bonds’ Purple Label Barbershop in Overland Park, Kan.
DeJuan Bonds cutting Patrick Mahomes’ hair.Aaron Wyatt
“I think that started when he started starting,” Bonds said.
Mahomes’ last haircut came the day before the Chiefs’ AFC Championship game win over Joe Burrow and the Bengals at Arrowhead Stadium.
“He gets the modified Mahomes Mohawk,” Bonds said.
Mahomes is looking forward to his next cut.
“DeJuan will keep me fresh,” Mahomes said Monday night. “He always gives me the right cut. He’ll be in town this week and he’ll make sure that I’m clean walking into the game.”
Bonds from 2009-19 was the team barber and gave haircuts weekly on Thursdays in a barber room at the Chiefs facility. Former Chiefs fullback Tony Richardson helped get him in the front door.
“He was my voice back in ’99,” Bonds said. “He and I became friends, and he kinda introduced me to the front office people.”
For the last 14 years, Chiefs players have trekked to Bonds’ barbershop. Bonds first cut Mahomes’ hair at his rookie-season OTAs.
“When a player moves to a new city, there’s a few things that they’re concerned about,” Bonds said. “And one of the things that you’re concerned about is your haircut. That was one of the topics that was discussed in the locker room — like who’s the barber? He was led to me to the barbershop through Travis Kelce.”
Kansas City Chiefs quarterback Patrick Mahomes boards a United Airlines jet on Sunday.AP
Bonds, 48, grew up a Chiefs fan, although when Mahomes was drafted with the 10th pick in 2017, he didn’t know who he was because he doesn’t follow college football.
“The reason that I don’t, “ Bonds said, “is because my Saturday mornings for the last 25 years has been spent head down, cutting all day on a Saturday. I can only look up when there’s a great play happening because of the cheering, either on the TV or in the barbershop.”
He didn’t have a favorable impression of Mahomes’ hair the first time he got to cut it.
“One thing that I do remember is like whoever had been cutting his hair, I didn’t like it, I didn’t think that it was fitting to him, so I had to wait patiently,” Bonds said. “Like I couldn’t really do a whole lot because I had a vision of what I wanted it to look like, but it wasn’t there the first time I met him, so I had already told him, I said, ‘Hey man, I’m only gonna do it a little bit because I need to let your hair grow in certain areas so we can get the desired look that I think looks best for you, that fits your head shape and everything.’”
Bonds would see Mahomes every two weeks during the 2017 season.
DeJuan Bonds cutting Patrick Mahomes’ hair.Credit: Aaron Wyatt
“It took almost six weeks to get it right,” Bonds said.
His first impression of Mahomes in the chair?
“He conversated with me and the other barbers and other customers that were in the barbershop,” Bonds said. “He was very open, wasn’t reserved or anything like that. But didn’t anyone really know who he was either, though. They were like, ‘Oh, OK, he’s a backup quarterback.’”
It’s different now. “We select times for cuts for privacy,” Bonds said.
Now Mahomes is the Hair Apparent.
“He scrolls social media,” Bonds said of Mahomes while he’s in the chair, “and then a lot of times we have [the television] on ‘SportsCenter,’ so we chime in on wherever events are going on in ‘SportsCenter’ topics. A lot of times it’s topics about him, so it’s funny to watch him look up and see what they’re saying about him.”
Patrick Mahomes after the Chiefs won the AFC championship.Getty Images
Chances are, they are saying glowing things, about his improvisational magic, about his golden arm, about his will to win, come hell or high ankle sprain.
“You’ve gotta be ready,” Bonds said. “Everybody. Even me sitting at home watching as a fan, I gotta be ready ’cause I don’t know what to expect. I can’t even imagine what it’d be like for the guys that are out there on the field that he’s throwing to. You gotta be ready. You don’t know when that sidearm is coming, you don’t know when that toss is coming, that bailout toss, whatever you want to call it. You gotta be ready, you gotta be head on swivel when you’re watching him ’cause he’s gonna make something exciting happen.”
Bonds began cutting the hair of his two brothers and cousins at 14 and graduated from Ea La Mars Cosmetology and Barber College in 1995. He first worked at Deb’s Images and opened Napps Barbershop in 1997 and then Purple Label in 2010.
“When I was young, we didn’t go to games, because it just wasn’t affordable, and they weren’t good,” Bonds said. “And then, when I became the team barber, I was at every home game for almost a 10-year span.”
He’ll be at his second Super Bowl to give Patrick Mahomes that game-changing Super Bowl haircut. Asked if it will be on Friday or Saturday, Bonds said: “Not sure … he wants to be as fresh as possible.”
Have Scissors Will Travel.
Razoring Arizona.
“It don’t feel real,” Bonds said. “I mean, I know we got a great guy, but it don’t feel real, man. Three times in four years? It’s crazy!”
The Eagles should brace for Hair Mahomes.
