Hadassah

the locker room

Being in the Chiefs’ locker room was always an adrenaline rush. The buzz of post-practice chatter, the strong scent of sweat and athletic tape, and the sound of lockers being opened and shut all combined into a chaotic symphony that felt like home. George and I were in our usual spying spot behind the gear rack, trying to stop our giggles as we watched Mahomes and Travis Kelce joke around.

Then it happened. Mahomes turned to grab a towel, and the cake was there. George's eyes nearly popped out of his head, and he whispered, “Zoo wee mama!” a little too loudly.

Before we could react, the locker room door opened, and my dads walked in—Pops (Isiah) and Dad (Butker), laughing and talking louder than anyone else in the room.

“And then I said, ‘You call that a kick? Watch this!’” Dad boomed, practically vibrating with laughter.

Pops shook his head, smirking. “Oh, please. Nothing’s weirder than you on the field kicking .”

George's eyes widened, and before I could stop him, he blurted out, “Nothing is louder than you guys at 10 pm!”

The entire locker room froze. Mahomes, Travis, and half the team turned to look in our direction, their faces ranging from confusion to amusement. My dads exchanged glances, their surprise quickly morphing into understanding.

“Haddie? George?” Pops called out, an amused smirk tugging at his lips.

We were so busted. I could feel my cheeks burning as George gave me a sheepish grin, and I couldn’t help but laugh.