They probably ran out of film on a night when they had a chance to take a picture of every brainless football fan, every potential nutcase residing in Kansas City, easily identifiable because they remained sitting in the stands through waves of rain and life-threatening lightning to see their Chiefs beat the Seattle Seahawks, 17-6, on Sunday night.

Has word of this newfangled contraption called “the TV” not reached this outpost? Or, was their some sort of strange desire to watch Ricky Watters run up the middle, get tackled and drown at the 20-yard line?

Despite tornado warnings, severe thunderstorms, reports of hail and torrential rain all day in the area, 66,418 people showed up to Arrowhead Stadium to get wet.

“You will only find that type of fan in Kansas City,” said Chief wide receiver Kevin Lockett, and at least they all live in the same place.


A good many of them remained for almost four hours, including a 54-minute suspension of play for lightning, to watch their waterlogged Chiefs run 23 running plays in a row at one point and slosh past the Seahawks. It was the Chiefs’ 14th victory in the last 15 meetings with the Seahawks.

“I would have rather just kept playing,” said Chief defensive tackle Tom Barndt, “but I guess they were thinking about the safety of the fans.”

Told to leave and find safety in the depths of Arrowhead Stadium, security guards said later they were unable to convince some to leave. Yet there was really no reason to stay. There was no suspense.

The Seahawks, who had not packed their water wings, were going on to lose their eighth in a row at Arrowhead. And anyway, the Chiefs most always win regular-season games at home--30-5 here against AFC West opponents in the ‘90s--taking a dive only at playoff time. Still, the fans remained, making it to their cars afterward with the warning that Gates 4 and 5 were closed, lost underwater.


“At one point it was raining so hard you couldn’t see the linebackers or safeties,” said Chief center Tim Grunhard. “That’s crazy.

“The good thing for the fans was that if they were drinking a beer or Coke, their cup never got empty . . . as for the lightning, I just stood next to the tallest guy on the line.”

On TV it might have looked comical, the field looking like nearby Smithville Lake after more than five inches of rain fell in an hour, eventually forcing nine turnovers and the quality of football ready-made for another edition of “Football Follies.”

But there was also danger in the air.


“It was the worst conditions I’ve ever played in, and I hope I never play in it again--it was a mess,” said Chief quarterback Rick Gannon, an 11-year veteran. “I’m sure it was the right decision [to suspend play] from the standpoint of safety.”

For the longest time it appeared the only sensible person on the premises was Art McNally, the NFL’s assigned observer to the game, who midway through the second quarter screamed into a telephone, “Get ‘em off the field, get ‘em out of there; I’ll take responsibility.”

But McNally’s walkie-talkie failed him, and play continued on the field while he continued yelling, the rain coming harder, the thunder louder and the lightning intensifying.

McNally called to the sidelines and ordered a sideline official to run on the field and immediately stop play.


Two years ago play was suspended at Giants Stadium for 32 minutes in a game between the Colts and Jets--the only other game in NFL history to be stopped, and then resumed. And when this one started again, both teams agreed to play the final 7:10 of the first half, take a six-minute break and then start again.

At the same time officials received a warning from the weather bureau that another serious burst of rain and lightning were due over Arrowhead. The fans in the stands were unaware, but surely they would have been delighted.

“It shows you what kind of fans they have here in Kansas City,” said Leslie O’Neal, the former Ram and Charger defensive end who now plays for the Chiefs. “These people braved it out. They wouldn’t have done that in San Diego--they would have been home watching it on TV.”

These red-clad screamers are not fans, but rather fanatics, their decision to stay later reinforced and rewarded by the longest pass completion for Kansas City since 1990--an 80-yard touchdown strike from Gannon to Andre Rison.


The water was gushing down the aisles in the stands, the sideline behind the Seahawks’ bench was a pond, but besides living in New York every day of your life, where else could you court death, witness chaos and feel on top of the world all at once?

“It’s one of the few places where the home crowd actually makes a difference,” said Seahawk cornerback Terry McDaniel.

Warren Moon, hired by the Seahawks to make a difference, injured his ribs on the final play before the suspension, slipping, missing a handoff and getting smashed while running with the ball. John Friesz came on, and then Jon Kitna, never locating the end zone, but able to show their friends back home that they had gotten their uniforms dirty.

“We didn’t mind the rain and the slushy conditions,” said Rison, “but the lightning--that’s another story.”


Chief fans probably thought it was just heaven’s way of shining the spotlight on them.