Forty-seven years Ken Bradshaw roamed football sidelines in Kansas City, first at old Municipal Stadium downtown, later out at Arrowhead, sprawled out along Interstate 70. He was a member of the chain gang that officially measures first downs, so he had a job to do. But he was also a Chiefs fan to his bones, so while he was toting the down marker, something else was tugging his heart.
“The thing about this city that you have to understand,” Bradshaw says brightly, “is that we always want to believe it’s going to better this time.”
The chuckle is replaced by a laugh.