KANSAS CITY, Mo. — The most obvious and tangible reason the Chiefs suffered a meltdown and flamed out of the AFC Championship Game against the Cincinnati Bengals on Sunday at Arrowhead Stadium can be quantified in the radical difference between Patrick Mahomes' statistical output in the first half (220 yards and three touchdown passes) and after the intermission (55 yards and two interceptions).
Throw in those back-to-back sacks that he took after the Chiefs were in second-and-goal at the Cincinnati 4-yard-line with a chance to seize the lead at the end of regulation, and it's easy to simply point the finger at the guy raising his hand to begin with.
"When you're up 21 to 3 at one point in the game, you can't lose it," he said after the Chiefs' shocking 27-24 overtime loss snuffed out their hopes of a third straight Super Bowl berth. "I put that on myself."
To some degree, he should. And we'll come back to what general manager Brett Veach on Tuesday called "those demons" that "creep up every now and then" on Mahomes — demons that are perhaps inseparably entwined with what makes him a transcendent player.
But the essence of that loss still is way more complicated than that, starting with the most fundamental element of this:
The Chiefs never would have been in this prosperous and still-promising phase in franchise history, let alone in the microcosm of it that a 21-3 first-half lead represented, if not for the advent of Mahomes.
It's also true that the offensive numbers (in each half and even overall) in his name never are derived purely from his performances and never happen in a vacuum.
Teammates, for instance, have to block and catch.
By way of one extreme example, consider that 31-9 drubbing by Tampa Bay in Super Bowl LVI last year: The game was underscored by a ravaged offensive line that led to the spectacle of an under-siege Mahomes scrambling 497 yards, per Next Gen Stats, before the 49 passes he threw and three sacks he absorbed.
Meanwhile, as much as we might recognize that Mahomes elevates all around him and would thrive anywhere, it's also clear that his game has been heightened by the magnificent talents of Travis Kelce and Tyreek Hill and accentuated by what typically is a striking connection with coach Andy Reid.
All of those variables factored into both how seamless the Chiefs' offense was in the first half ... and how they came apart at the seams in the second half.
(The defense did plenty of good things, but the fact that it could sack Joe Burrow only once a week after Tennessee took him down nine times is another signature on this loss.)
Certainly, what went awry for the offense includes some vague combination of Reid and offensive coordinator Eric Bieniemy (is there a disconnect to be streamlined or otherwise addressed in the offseason?) making a bunch of curious play calls against a Cincinnati defense that generally was dropping eight men into coverage.
"There's no time like now that you question every call and every play," Reid acknowledged.
That was crucial to how Mahomes came to be sacked four times in the fourth quarter. It didn't help, either, that the Chiefs dropped a couple balls in the second half.
For all that, though, no one Chief has more power to exert his influence, even brand his imprint, on the game than Mahomes.
And so this game revealed something pivotal towards where Mahomes and the Chiefs can go from here ... and to what degree they can optimize the auspicious talents that already have led to the most successful four-year burst in franchise history.
While the Chiefs have much to sort out in terms of the personnel around him and navigating the salary cap in the offseason, and while they could perhaps could do with some fresh voices on the coaching staff, Mahomes has to continue to make progress in taming that demon.
Entering the game Sunday, in fact, you'd have said that was the most striking arc of his season: demonstrating he understood patience is a virtue even up against his ever-bubbling natural inclinations (and knack for) the big instant strike.
That newfound self-restraint (along with a revitalization of the defense) was a substantial part of how the Chiefs shrugged off a 3-4 start to win 11 of their last 12 entering the AFC Championship Game.
"I think he got into that mindset (in which) he's just going to put the ball into playmaker's hands, let those guys do what they do and just let the game unfold and take what the defense gives you," Veach said.
But the old habits also resurfaced in the second half on Sunday ... and, actually, even at the end of the first half:
Mahomes said he got "greedy" with five seconds left from the Cincinnati 1-yard-line and threw to Hill in the flat, where the latter had scant chance of scoring with two men in front of him, rather than throwing it away and allowing for a field-goal attempt.
That proved to be a major moment in the outcome.
Various versions of that mentality came up in the second half and overtime, when he either held the ball too long or forced plays. That included throwing the two vital interceptions — one more than he had thrown in eight previous postseason games at Arrowhead combined.
Here's the trick, though:
The hinge on this is that the very nerve that makes Mahomes seem supernatural at times is exactly what is part of such lapses.
He's seldom, if ever, reckless, and often makes diamonds from coal ... but at times isn't careful enough.
"That's what you love about Pat, though," Veach said. "Because he wants to put everything on him, he wants all of the pressure on him. He wants to make every throw."
By an incredibly high percentage, one that has transformed a franchise, the tradeoff is worth it. But it still can come at a price.
What Veach called his "biggest weakness" comes from a long-term, hard-wired notion of, "I'm putting everybody on my shoulders."
"Even if it's not, you know, the ideal throw, he just trusts himself, and I think what's what you love about him," said Veach, who made it a point to note that blame for the loss extends from the front office to the coaching staff. "But as far as (this) season (overall), there were some times when I think he just tried to do too much."
In an email this week, a reader referred to Mahomes as Patrick "Icarus" Mahomes, a reference to the character in Greek mythology whose wings melted when he flew too close to the sun. And you can see the parallel.
For all of Mahomes' stunning talents, including an uncanny sense of awareness in so many ways, reconciling the razor-thin margins of contriving an incredible play vs. "what was he thinking?" remains something for him to totally conquer.
That he even has the skill-set and will to have such options is a wonder to behold. All the more so if he can learn how best to harness it.
"We're fortunate to have him," Reid said, "and there's nobody looking at Pat Mahomes cross-eyed from our side."
In fact, we should all still be wide-eyed about Mahomes. He is nothing less than a marvel. But he also has another tier awaiting him if he can make peace with this "demon."
