KANSAS CITY, Mo. — From the “Do it, Kels!” ad-lib in the 13-second game against Buffalo, to their mic’d up bit against the Texans in 2020 (“There’s nothing telling you I was going to do that, and the ball was in the air before I did it”), to watching them riff off each other in about any setting, the synergy between Travis Kelce and Patrick Mahomes seems uncanny.

Unique as that mojo between them might be, though, it’s only the most conspicuous connection each has created within the Kansas City Chiefs.

More to the point, it’s just a microcosm of their dynamic and sprawling influence on a franchise sitting out this postseason after a majestic run highlighted by winning three of the last six Super Bowls.

You could write a separate piece about Mahomes’ distinct sway, of course.

But with Kelce openly mulling retirement from a career that ultimately will be punctuated with a Pro Football Hall of Fame induction, now makes for a moment to consider all the deep aspects of his presence that have permeated the Chiefs — particularly a more nuanced element behind the flamboyant personality for which he’s so well-known.

It’s a trait that extends beyond being “kind of a wild pony,” as Chiefs coach Andy Reid has described Kelce’s early years. One that has seen him buck past being a showman who nimbly hosted “Saturday Night Live” and who co-hosts the remarkably popular “New Heights” podcast with his brother, Jason.

A characteristic that underpins the tone-setting juice he brings to every practice, even at age 36, as deftly chronicled by colleague Sam McDowell last January, and to which Chris Jones alluded the other day in Las Vegas as he thought back to his rookie impressions of Kelce at practice in 2016.

“He was dancing to everything … dancing and catching everything,” Jones said, smiling. “So I was like, you know what, I’m going to start dancing.

“So (he’s) always been a fun, energetic individual who brings the energy, gives the group fire to keep going.”

But what gives all that more weight — and part of why Jones spoke for many when he added “I just pray that this isn’t my dog’s last” season — is the currency and credibility Kelce has cultivated behind the animated persona.

Because of a personal touch that has made the entire locker room Kelce’s sphere of influence — and that will make for a major void whenever he retires.

Whether it’s Mahomes or other first-round draft picks, offensive linemen, undrafted free agents on the other side of the ball (and the room), or the rest of the tight end group, Kelce’s outreach and brotherhood is a vital part of what he means to the franchise.

When running back Clyde Edwards-Helaire was dealing with severe post-traumatic stress disorder from gun violence, including an incident when he was at LSU, one friend became more tuned in than almost anyone else to what he called his “trials and tribulations.”

“In a lot of those times kind of dealing with my mental health, it seemed like nobody else noticed,” he said. “And he did, you know?”

Over and over, in fact, teammates will say Kelce has been both a welcoming committee in himself and a mentor looking over their shoulders.

A sort of one-man swarm who notices everyone and everything and over the years has become instrumental to the Chiefs’ culture as part of the first draft class under Reid in 2013.

“He’s carried that torch for the past how many years he’s been here,” center Creed Humphrey said.

With a smile, he added, “Whatever it is, 20 years.”

The meaning of this connectivity was reiterated most recently last Sunday, as reserve linebacker Cole Christiansen told The Kansas City Star afterward. Christiansen was named a captain for the game, so Kelce took to calling him “Cap” all week.

“Someone of his status could be an isolationist or stay up in his world and do his thing,” Christiansen said. “But he’s going around the room, reminding you he’s glad you’re here.”

The kind of guy, Humphrey said, who “can help you fix things.”

And while Humphrey seemed to mean on the field, the thought could be aptly applied more broadly.

Consider defensive lineman Malik Herring, who in 2021 was an undrafted free agent who might easily have escaped notice as he spent the season rehabilitating a torn ACL.

When Herring felt anonymous and wondered if he belonged, he said, the superstar tight end was a frequent visitor to the training room to “check on me and make sure I’m alright” ... and leave everyone laughing.

Getting that sort of attention from a guy he considers the heart and soul of the team, Herring said, made him feel like he deserved to be there and could blend in.

Crucially, starting with the one who reminds him of Adam Sandler and has so much else going on.

“That’s when I realized he’s actually like this off the camera as well …” Herring said. “That’s just the type of guy he is, the type of energy he brings to the team.”

Sometimes, it’s been at his own expense.

Last year, former Chiefs running back Charcandrick West told ESPN about an episode in which he was stuck in traffic and was going to be a late arrival to the team hotel the night before a game. He contacted Kelce, who told him to get there as fast as he could.

When West arrived, Kelce was waiting for him out front of the hotel.

“Sometimes you just need somebody to be there with you even if you feel like you’re doing something wrong,” Kelce told ESPN.

More typically, Kelce’s providing a great example — as personified by his work with Operation Breakthrough and his third nomination as the Chiefs’ representative for the NFL’s prestigious Walter Payton Man of the Year award — and through his endless reservoir of encouragement.

Safety Bryan Cook, who like Kelce played at the University of Cincinnati, says this breakthrough season of his was in part because he started trusting his speed and himself more — something Kelce has been telling him forever as he’s also offered feedback.

When Robert Tonyan was in his third season in Green Bay in 2020 and on his way to scoring 11 touchdowns, he received a congratulatory Instagram message from Kelce — whom he’d admired and sought to emulate as he made the conversion from wide receiver to tight end.

“Usually when you’re competing against someone in the NFL, they’re kind of more so (about) trying to be better than you,” Tonyan said. “It was cool that someone I looked up to reached out to me and told me how (well) … I was playing and lent his hand out.”

All the more so since Tonyan got to know Kelce at Tight End University and signed with the Chiefs late in the 2024 season. The position group spends several nights a week at each other’s homes, a context within which Kelce is just another one of the guys … albeit ever-energetic there, too.

“It’s who he is everywhere,” Tonyan said. “He’s not putting on a show for the camera or the room. That’s just who he is, 24-7.”

Perhaps no one on the team appreciates this part of Kelce like Edwards-Helaire, a first-round draft pick out of LSU in 2020 — amid the pandemic.

During COVID times, Edwards-Helaire said, “camaraderie wasn’t a big thing” and teammates could only be in close proximity to each other for so long before tracking devices started beeping.

“They realized most of my time was being spent with Travis,” said Edwards-Helaire — who on an occasion or two kept the conversation going after Kelce simply removed each of their monitors.

Even before the full impact of contending with PTSD had surfaced that rookie year, Edwards-Helaire recalled feeling like “a deer in the headlights” as he tried to acclimate to his first time living outside Louisiana, learning a complicated offense and what it was simply to join the NFL.

Being under Kelce’s considerable wing not only accelerated his adjustments but helped him realize who he “wanted to be as a person in the locker room.”

“It’s one of those things that helped me establish a lot of the things that I feel like I am as a team player and a person today,” he said.

The trust between them grew both ways, especially after they bonded over their love of cars and Kelce’s Escalade had issues during camp in St. Joseph. Edwards-Helaire happened to have the tools in his truck to “figure some stuff out” and promptly got it back up and running.

To hear Edwards-Helaire describe it, Kelce gushed about the gesture and being able to trust him.

All of that led to Edwards-Helaire being able to lean on Kelce as the PTSD manifested over the next few years.

Looking back on that time now, Edwards-Helaire remembers telling his mother about Kelce: how amazed he was that he was so cognizant of him as he was breaking NFL records and increasingly in the spotlight all over the world — all the more so once he started dating Taylor Swift in the fall of 2023.

Amid all that, Kelce could still feel the pulse across the room:

“ 'Nah, Clyde isn’t himself,’ ” as Edwards-Helaire put it.

That was when he realized Kelce is “somebody who will genuinely look out for you to the end … Not as Travis Kelce your teammate, but as Travis, my big brother.”

Part of that is being let into Kelce’s life. So Edwards-Helaire and his wife, JoJo, have developed such a relationship with Swift that she called them to apologize for not being able to make it to their wedding in the summer of 2024 — when she was on tour in Dublin.

While Kelce was on tour with her at the time, including appearing on stage in a tux and top hat days before at Wembley Stadium, Swift told the couple she was flying him back to the U.S. so he could attend the wedding.

Edwards-Helaire called Kelce and said, “Bro, you don’t have to.’ ” But Kelce said, “Nah, Taylor’s already sending me. It’s good.”

Added Edwards-Helaire: “It was one of those things where she understood the relationship, she knows where everything stands.”

After the shattering shooting at Union Station during the Chiefs’ Super Bowl celebration in 2024, Swift was awakened by her security team in the middle of the night in Australia.

She couldn’t reach the quite overserved and indisposed Kelce, who handed his phone to Edwards-Helaire.

In the pandemonium, Edwards-Helaire had comforted a 13-year-old boy who’d gotten separated from his family. Then he called Swift and comforted her, too, saying Kelce was ill but unhurt.

No wonder Edwards-Helaire and JoJo are invited to the wedding, which reportedly will take place this summer.

And no wonder guys all across the locker room hope Kelce returns for another season.

Not just for what he can still deliver on the field (76 catches for 851 yards this season).

But for something just as indispensable he delivers every day behind the scenes.

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