The Chiefs used to show their best in the face of adversity. It’s breaking them now

Patrick Mahomes left his seat along the Chiefs’ bench early in the first half and made about a 30-yard walk down his own sideline. His offensive line sat there as a unit, and Mahomes, in so many words, let them know that they might want to pick it up a bit.

We’ve seen this scene before, no? You remember it: The Chiefs trailed by 24 points in a playoff game, after a comedy of errors that included penalties, dropped passes and a special teams gaffe; but following a Mahomes speech on the sideline — “Let’s go do something special” — they would storm back to win by three touchdowns.

A week after that, they would concede the first 10 points in an AFC Championship Game, only to secure the biggest victory to date in Arrowhead Stadium history. And two weeks later they’d do it again, falling behind by double digits in the fourth quarter, only to conclude the game with their quarterback hoisting the Lombardi Trophy.

I’m recalling a happier time ... though, to clarify, it’s not for the vibes, but rather because of the relevance now.

The Patrick Mahomes Inevitability Era is gone, replaced with a Chiefs team that no motivational speech can save.

The Raiders — yes, the Raiders — bested the Chiefs 20-14 on Christmas Day, despite navigating the final three quarters without completing a pass. And for as ugly as it grew on the field, it was worse on the sideline.

Or at least more telling.

A Chiefs team once defined by its ability to respond to adversity with its very best is instead crumbling in the face of it — and that goes far beyond any statistics I could cite.

You might say this is not the makings of a championship team, to which I would actually one-up: It’s not the makings of a team that believes it will win a championship, no matter how many times they publicly state otherwise. It’s the makings of a team that sees something go wrong and believes the worst is yet to come.

They have grown comfortable showing their frustrations in public for all of us to see. Two weeks ago, it the superstar quarterback. On Monday, it was the Hall of Fame tight end and the cool, calm and collected head coach.

At one point, Travis Kelce put all of his might into a helmet-slam near the bench, and it irked Andy Reid enough that he told a staffer not to return to it to him. In an ensuing conversation, Reid resorted to bumping Kelce.

“He went back in and did a nice job. Things happen. Emotional game,” Reid said. “Travis is emotional, and sometimes my red hair gets to me a little bit.”

Things do happen. And they sure have been happening a lot in that particular setting. The Chiefs’ sideline has become a setting for disarray and chaos, requiring a heavier camera presence than the Taylor Swift suite because, by God, you don’t know what you might see next.

In the most simple form, this is not a group that handles losing as it once did — back when it wasn’t whether Mahomes could make something special happen, but rather how and when. Heck, just a year ago, the same Raiders team scored the initial 17 points at Arrowhead, a deficit that woke up the wrong, um, gentleman.

This year, a big deficit all but puts the Chiefs to sleep, unable to unravel the offensive pitfalls that look increasingly likely to prompt an earlier-than-usual hibernation.

They are 1-4 when trailing by double digits. They’re two games shy of completing an entire season without a fourth-quarter comeback. Drew Lock has one of those. Tommy DeVito has two. Russell Wilson has four.

Mahomes: Zero.

And, man, how many more chances could the Kansas City defense have provided Monday? The Chiefs held the Raiders to seven consecutive drives of 25 yards or fewer.

It didn’t matter. The Chiefs’ offense was long done, closer to a here-we-go-again mindset than buoyed by a just-wait response.

They do have plenty to be frustrated about, but that’s more about what they have than what they do not. Kadarius Toney and Skyy Moore are not scapegoats for what unfolded on Christmas Day. You’ll have to look elsewhere, and there aren’t enough fingers on your hands to point to the blame.

If there is a less disciplined team in football than the Chiefs, I feel for those who will watch that team play 17 games.

The Chiefs lost a season opener because they could not secure routine catches; they lost another game because of an offensive offside call; they lost another because of a dropped deep ball; and they arguably escape the mess Monday if not for a botched handoff that ignited a sequence of two Raiders defensive touchdowns in the span of 12 seconds.

Once master problem-solvers, the Chiefs have grown into problem-compounders — in which each instance is merely foreshadowing what will come later.

It was ugly Monday, probably as ugly as it’s been since No. 15 arrived in Kansas City. The offensive line allowed two sacks in the initial five minutes and then got beat for the game’s duration.

Mahomes looks like a guy trying to do it all himself, and sometimes it looks like he’s a guy who has to do it all himself.

The play-calling, or the play design — or a combination of the two — isn’t doing him or anyone else any favors. After at long last advancing the ball inside the 10-yard line, the Chiefs’ initial three play-calls required Mahomes to throw the ball about as far as the line of scrimmage, or even behind it.

It wasn’t until fourth down that they actually tried a ball to the end zone. Heck, with the Raiders barreling an extra safety toward the line of scrimmage, the Chiefs threw the ball 44 times, and only eight of those passes traveled 10 yards. They completed just three.

Blame the play-calling. Blame the receivers. Blame the offensive line. And put some of the blame on the quarterback.

The combination is trending in the wrong direction with only two games left on the schedule. The Chiefs are in need of a mental reset that won’t come. And if it were any other time in this era, you might yet have some evidence to predict their very best awaits on the other side of this.

Now?

The wait is on the evidence that an about-face can come four months into an NFL season.