I Got Married, am Now Best Friends with KC Wolf

In my return to the blogosphere, I break down the best day of my life, the man inside the wolf head, the biggest ass in the sports world, and my new best friend. 

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Charles Robinson @CRob5769

Lead Writer – Chiefs Focus @ChiefsFocus 



Well folks, I’m back. And I have to tell you, there are some things in life that you just can’t prepare for. 


Those who know me know that I’m an emotional guy – I wear it all on my sleeve. This is a good thing because people know where I stand. My excitement is contagious and when I am on the opposite end of the spectrum, people will generally avoid me. Not because I’m a mean or scary guy, just because I’m a pain in the ass to be around. It’s who I am, and in my older years I’ve chosen to embrace it rather than stress about it. You can take a tiger out of the jungle, but you can’t change his stripes. 


So, as you can imagine, the prospect of getting married was one that I was both excited and nervous for. Excited because I got to celebrate marrying the one person in life who has shown me love at my best and at my worst (other than my mother, of course), and nervous because I knew those emotions would be very evident to the ~200 people in attendance. Friends, family, people I’d never met before – they’d all show up and watch me cry like an oversized, bald baby at nearly every turn. I mean, what an incredible day. All of my best friends there. My brothers. My parents. My wife’s family. There were so many moments that were going to make me lose it. 


The first look. My wife (then fiancé) walking down the aisle. My vows. The toasts at the reception. My first dance with my mom. But, as miraculous as the Chiefs tying the AFC Divisional Round game against the Bills with 13 seconds left, I kept my composure. Until a certain point in the evening. 


I’m not going to continue to carry on with details about my wedding. While it was the best day of my life so far, I know you all have been to weddings before. If you’ve been to one, you’ve been to all of them right? Well, that’s where you may be misled. 


Shortly after wrapping up my dance with my mother, I was walking back to the head table to take my place for what I thought was going to be a special event that the DJ was going to be hosting. We had discussed with his weeks before the prospect of doing a scavenger hunt as an “ice breaker” with those in attendance. My family is from southern Missouri and my wife’s family is predominantly from the Kansas City area, so getting people acquainted seemed like a good idea to get the party started. 


Except that did not happen. 


As I approached the table, I was told by DJ Jared (shoutout DJ Jared, the best in the game) to stop. Dead in my tracks. He continued on to say that there was a special guest at the venue to help me get the party started. My mind was racing. “Who could it be?” I half drunkenly wondered. Patrick Mahomes? Travis Kelce? Could it be that my years of dressing up as Andy Reid for Halloween had finally paid off and the Walrus was here to wish my wife and I a lifetime of love and happiness? Unfortunately none of those things were true. 


As I stood there stuck in a mental pretzel, the DJ told me to do a 180 and face the back of the room. As I did, I heard a familiar tune pop onto the speakers : 


“Welcome to the Reeeeeeeed Kingdooooom”. 


As Tech9’s Red Kingdom blared, I looked around in disbelief. From the shadows, an astronomically large head and even larger ass appeared seemingly from the heavens to greet me on the dance floor. No, it was not Jennifer Lopez. 


It was KC Wolf. 


The most electric mascot in the NFL. For so long, the king of smashing his head against the goal post when things did not go the Chiefs way in regular season or postseason play, and more recently the relentlessly fired up canis lupus that so many fans have grown to adore leading the charge in supporting the team during a period of unparalleled success. KC Wolf was my wedding. What did I do? 


As an red-blooded Chiefs fan with adrenaline coursing through his veins would do, I hugged KC Wolf with such a brisk vigor that I nearly popped the wolf head right off of him. Shortly after, I gave him the customary “three low high fives into a chest bump” move seen in countless sporting events across the country with the chest bump captured in the photo at the top of the post. 


Wolfy and I laughed. We cried. We did the tomahawk chop. We high fived uncle Curty. We took pictures with folks. We whistled. We clicked. 


For those that don’t know, KC Wolf does not talk to you when he is in costume. That would be too much of a spoiler. Why confirm that he’s a human being when we can all work under the assumption that he’s just a giant cartoon wolf that enjoys Chiefs football as much if not more than all of the rest of us in Chiefs Kingdom? 


He does, however, communicate. Hence the whistle and clicking. When my wife and I stopped to pose for a picture with him prior to his grand exit, I had to pose one statement/question to the lovable predator. 


“Admit it, you’re actually Patrick Mahomes, you’re just wearing the KC Wolf costume. Go ahead and lose the hat.” 


This is when I discovered KC’s preferred method of communication. 


“Whistle whistle whistle, click click click. Whistle, click. Whistle, click.” 


Little did I know that such meaningless noise making could make such an impact on me. Amid all of the whistles and clicks that KC Wolf threw my way, presumably to get me off of the trail that he was actually an All-World quarterback disguised as a mascot, my brain did the Grinch heart thing and grew 3 sizes, simultaneously decoding the nonsense that KC Wolf was whistle clicking at me. 


He didn’t actually mean “whistle whistle whistle, click click click.” What he meant was “I love you Charles, best of luck in marriage.” 


And “Whistle, click. Whistle, click.”…what did that mean? 


It meant “You’re my best friend.” 


It was truly a heartwarming beginning to a party that echoed into the wee hours of the night in Bonner Springs and Lenexa. A night that none will forget, except for the ones who were physically incapable of remembering due to healthy levels of intoxication. A night where an existing love was bona fide, and a new love was just beginning. The love between me and my new best friend, KC Wolf. 


A huge shoutout to my wife for setting this all up. It was a secret she managed to keep from me for nearly a year. To put that into context, in that time frame the longest time she’s been able to keep a secret from me was when she picked up shrimp cocktail from Costco 3 weeks ago and didn’t tell me about it from the time she left the store until she got home. That’s about a 15 minute drive. Job well done, B.

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