Patrick Mahomes Skipped a Major Game to Be with a Dying Fan—The NFL Tried to Cover It Up
The Kansas City Chiefs’ locker room hummed with anticipation. It was December 17th, 2022, just an hour before kickoff against the Buffalo Bills—a primetime game on national television, a rivalry at its peak. Every player moved with focused energy, except something was off.
Patrick Mahomes’ locker was untouched. Jersey still hanging, cleats lined up, helmet shining. No sign of the man himself. Travis Kelce glanced at Chris Jones; neither said a word, but their eyes spoke volumes. Andy Reid stood in the hallway, arms folded, staring at his phone, checking for messages for the fifth time.
No call. No text. No sign of Patrick. The media was already suspicious. Reporters noticed Mahomes hadn’t come out for warm-ups. Chiefs’ PR kept repeating the same line: “He’ll be here soon,” but he wasn’t coming.
Across town, the sliding doors of St. Luke’s Children’s Hospital whispered open. A tall figure in a red hoodie and a black cap stepped through. No entourage, no security, just a folded piece of paper in his pocket and a face that, even here, made people stop and stare. The nurse at the counter froze.
“You’re… you’re him.”
He nodded quietly. “Elijah Thomas. Room 312. I’m here for him.”
The nurse blinked. “Are you sure?”
“I promised,” Mahomes said, already walking past.
Upstairs, in room 312, the air was heavy. Monitors beeped softly. Elijah, frail and pale, lay in bed, his mother clutching his hand, his father standing by the window, shoulders rigid. They didn’t expect Elijah to last the night. The treatments had failed, his heart was weak, but he kept whispering the same thing for days: “He said he’d come.”
Then the door creaked open. Elijah’s mother gasped. His father turned. Mahomes stepped in, pulled off his cap, and nodded.
“Mind if I sit with him?”
No words. Just stunned silence. The father stepped aside. Mahomes pulled a chair to the bed and placed his large hand over Elijah’s tiny one. Elijah stirred, eyelids fluttering.
“Pat…” he murmured.
“Hey, kid,” Mahomes said softly. “Told you I’d make it.”
A weak smile broke through Elijah’s exhaustion. A tear rolled down his cheek.
Back at Arrowhead Stadium, the Chiefs were warming up without their leader. Commentators scrambled for explanations. Rumors flew—injury, illness, family emergency. “Patrick Mahomes is not in the building,” the sideline reporter finally announced, voice uncertain. “We’ve been told it’s a personal matter.”
That only fueled speculation.
Meanwhile, in room 312, Mahomes was telling Elijah about his first college tryout. “They said I wasn’t ready,” he said, grinning. “Thought I was too raw. But you know what? It’s not about what they think. It’s about what you fight for. You fought harder than anyone, Elijah. That’s what makes you great.”
Elijah tried to speak, but coughed. Mahomes reached for the water cup and helped him sip. His mother stifled sobs. His father stepped out, unable to watch.
“You scared?” Mahomes asked.
Elijah hesitated, then shook his head. “Not now.”
“You’re not alone,” Mahomes said. “I’m right here.”
Downstairs, hospital staff whispered. Patrick Mahomes, the NFL superstar, skipping a national game for a dying kid. Some were confused, others moved. A few nurses quietly snapped photos, but before they could be shared, a suited man from the NFL’s legal team arrived. Somehow, word had gotten out.
“No photos,” he said. “No press, no leaks. Understood?”
The photos were deleted before anyone could even ask why.
Back in the Chiefs’ locker room, Andy Reid gathered the team. “He’s not coming tonight,” he said quietly. He handed a folded note to Travis Kelce. “He left this. Said to read it before you go out.”
Kelce opened it. Just one line: “Some things are bigger than football. Play with heart tonight.”
No one spoke. They just nodded.
Back in room 312, the machines slowed. The beeping softened. Elijah’s mother cried quietly. Mahomes stayed, holding the boy’s hand, thumb gently brushing his knuckles.
“Will you win the Super Bowl?” Elijah whispered.
Mahomes leaned in. “For you? I’ll win the whole thing.”
Elijah smiled one last time. And then, he was gone.
Mahomes sat in silence. Then he gently laid his own jersey—brought from the stadium—at the foot of the bed.
“He had more fight in him than any player I’ve ever seen,” Mahomes told the mother. To the father, he offered a handshake. The man pulled him into a tight embrace.
“You didn’t have to do this,” the father said, voice breaking.
“I did,” Mahomes replied. “I just couldn’t tell anyone.”
Before he left, Mahomes turned to a nurse. “Make sure he keeps that jersey.”
“Yes, sir,” she whispered. But the jersey never made it home. It vanished. When Elijah’s family asked about security footage, they were told the cameras had malfunctioned. His mother didn’t believe it. Neither did his father. But what could they do? The story was buried fast. The NFL needed its hero back on the field, not in headlines for skipping a game.
Mahomes returned to the team quietly the next day. When asked about his absence, he simply said, “Personal reasons.” And that was that.
But something had changed. Mahomes played like a man possessed. He threw for five touchdowns against the Bengals, four more against the Chargers. He barely spoke to the media. When asked about his motivation, he just said, “I’ve got something to finish.”
The team rallied behind him. Elijah’s name was never spoken aloud, but it was felt in every play.
Behind the scenes, NFL PR worked overtime. They planted stories about illness, family emergencies, even floated rumors about a secret sponsorship deal. None of it stuck. Still, the public moved on. Mahomes was back. The Chiefs were winning.
But Elijah’s father didn’t let it go. He started emailing journalists, telling them what happened. At first, no one believed him. Then a young reporter listened. He met Elijah’s dad, saw hospital receipts, a photo of Elijah in a Mahomes jersey from weeks before, and, finally, a retired nurse willing to speak off the record. “Yeah,” she said, “he was there the night the boy died. I saw him.”
The story almost didn’t run. Editors were afraid. But eventually, it was published: “The Night Mahomes Vanished and the Boy No One Knew.”
It didn’t explode overnight, but slowly, it spread. Fans shared it. Commentators debated it. And finally, Mahomes was asked, during a rare public appearance, “Did you really skip that game for a dying kid?”
Mahomes looked down, then said, “I was where I needed to be that night. That’s all I’ll say.”
The video went viral. For the first time, the public saw not just the superstar, but the man.
A week later, Elijah’s father spoke at a local school. He brought a single photo—Elijah, smiling, Mahomes’ hand holding his. “He didn’t need cameras,” the father said. “He came because my son mattered. That’s what makes a man great. Not rings. Not stats.”
The room erupted in applause.
From then on, fans wore Elijah’s name on their shirts. Tributes popped up online. Mahomes never commented again, but he saw them every game.
Years later, at a championship celebration, Mahomes took the mic. “Before we celebrate, I want to acknowledge someone who’s not here—someone who kept me going when I didn’t think I could anymore. His name was Elijah Thomas. And this championship—this one’s his, too.”
The stadium fell silent, then rose in a standing ovation.
From that point on, the story lived, not as rumor, but as truth. A lesson about legacy, kindness, and what it means to be great—not just on the field, but in the moments no one was supposed to see.
The Patrick Mahomes dive that outraged NFL supporters
Patrick Mahomes kept the Chiefs on course for a Super Bowl three-peat but his performance and that of the referees drew criticism from many NFL fans – Getty Images/David Eulitt
Three-time Super Bowl champion and current broadcaster Troy Aikman led the chorus of criticism against superstar quarterback Patrick Mahomes for ‘flopping’ in the Kansas City Chiefs’ controversial victory over the Houston Texans on Saturday.
Having seen the Texans flagged for roughness earlier in the National Football League play-off match, Mahomes appeared to throw himself dramatically to the ground during a fourth-quarter play which drew the ire of pundits and fans alike.
In ESPN’s commentary booth, analyst Aikman said: “He’s trying to draw the penalty. Rather than just run out of bounds, he slows down. And that’s been the frustration, and I get it. I understand it. That’s been the frustration for these defensive players around the league.”
The Texans were not penalised for the play, but that did not stop the tide of outrage on social media from fans exasperated by such antics in American football, with two separate calls earlier in the game in favour of the Chiefs adding to the sense of injustice.
Aikman had said he “could not disagree more” with the decision to penalise Houston’s Henry To’oTo’o and Folorunso Fatukasi for a hit on Mahomes in the third quarter, stating that the quarterback had become a “runner” during the play, meaning rules designed to protect him should not apply. ESPN’s on-air rules expert, Russell Yurk, also said he did not believe that the Houston players hit Mahomes as he fell, but rather they hit each other, with Mahomes underneath them. The Chiefs capitalised on the ruling and went on to score a touchdown to put them 20-12 up.
Earlier in the contest, Texans’ defensive end Will Anderson Jr also felt aggrieved when he was flagged for roughing the passer on an incomplete pass from Mahomes. That drive ended in a field goal to put the Chiefs up 6-3, and Anderson Jr was blunt in his post-match assessment, telling reporters that “we knew it was going to be us versus the refs going into this game”.
While NFL players can be penalised for unsportsmanlike conduct, there is no official rule against ‘flopping’ or ‘diving’ specifically. Aikman urged the NFL to change the rules, saying: “They’ve got to address it in the off-season.”
Kansas City won the match 23-14 to advance to the AFC Championship game, where they await the winners of Sunday’s match between the Buffalo Bills and Baltimore Ravens. Also on Saturday, the Washington Commanders, and their rookie QB Jayden Daniels, pulled off a huge shock to reach the NFC Championship game with victory over top seeds the Detroit Lions. The Commanders will next face either the Los Angeles Rams or the Philadelphia Eagles.
Having won the two previous showcases, the Chiefs have the chance to go for an unprecedented third Super Bowl win in a row, with Mahomes chasing a fourth crown overall.
