How Travis Kelce spent final day with teammates after what could be his last game
AI-generated summary reviewed by our newsroom.
- Chiefs TE Travis Kelce, 36, hasn’t said whether he plans to retire now that season’s over
- On Sunday, teammates recounted private acts of mentorship that shaped locker-room identity
- Kelce’s work ethic influenced younger players despite the team’s dismal 6-11 season
Travis Kelce pulled an olive-green sweater over his head and began to unfasten the clasp of a gold necklace.
He’d departed the field in Las Vegas minutes earlier, a circus of cameras following every post-game move of a tight end on a football team that just completed a 6-11 season.
Here, in the visiting team’s locker room at Allegiant Stadium, he sat alone.
Initially.
But very briefly.
Chris Oladokun, the third-string-turned-starting quarterback, walked to Kelce’s locker and stuck out his hand.
“Man,” he said, “thank you.”
Kelce unfastened the clasp on another necklace and then a third, before Chris Jones, his teammate for a decade, walked over and approached him.
“Thank you for everything,” the defensive lineman said, and then the two started laughing as though they were the only two to understand it was a joke.
“This guy, man,” Kelce said, and you could hear the equivalent of an eye-roll in his voice.
Kelce sat back down and strapped a black boot over one foot, and here came linebacker Cole Christiansen.
“Whatever happens,” Christiansen said, “it’s been an honor playing with you.”
“You know it, man,” Kelce responded. “Wish we could’ve got that ‘dub’ for you.”
For you?
The Chiefs let Christiansen, a practice squad player for most of the year, serve as the captain Sunday afternoon in Las Vegas, a game they lost 14-12 on a last-minute field goal. Christiansen has been in the NFL for parts of six seasons.
He was named a captain for the first time this week. When head coach Andy Reid revealed that news to the team, Christiansen was “pumped” to hear his name, and then discovered he wasn’t the only one.
Kelce spent the rest of the week calling him “Cap” around the Chiefs’ facility.
“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.”
Kelce has brought this group together, in moments big and small. He’s made a career of seeking people out to make sure they’re included.
On Sunday, they sought him ought, one by one, almost a receiving line of teammates, owner Clark Hunt, and, uh, Kevin Richardson of the Backstreet Boys with his two sons. No, really.
The teammates came by with handshakes — not because of what they know, but because of the unknown.
Is this it?
“Who knows? Who knows?” Kelce replied when I asked about his timeline for making a decision on retirement. “Either (a decision) hits me quick, or I gotta take some time.
“Last year was a little bit easier. I think I knew right away I wanted to give this (year) a shot.
“I don’t know. We’ll see.”
He spoke at his locker for roughly three minutes — “all right, I’ll give you guys a few,” he said before standing up. I’ll leave the armchair psychology of his words to someone else and remind you it’s entirely possible, if not likely, he hasn’t yet made up his mind.
And if that’s the case, it’s a first.
We didn’t know until two weeks after the Super Bowl that Kelce would return for another shot this year, but he knew quickly. This time, he says, he will “get close to the family and figure things out.”
It’s a change, and the decision, whether it comes quickly or otherwise, will answer one of the most notable questions surrounding a Chiefs offseason that’s flush with them.
After an offseason designed to get in better shape, Kelce turned his age-36 season into more than sentimentality. It sparked one of the best years for a 36-year-old tight end in NFL history, which shouldn’t be surprising, considering he’s one of the very best tight ends in NFL history. He surpassed 13,000 career receiving yards Sunday.
He defied logic, really, somehow putting together a bounce-back year at 36. His yards per catch, 5.9 per reception, is better than his career average and nearly double his mark from a year ago.
“I felt like I came into the season prepared and ready to rock ‘n’ roll with the right intentions,” he said. “The ball just didn’t go our way in a lot of those games, unfortunately.
“If I do choose to come back, that’s something I’ve really got to focus on — making sure that I’m available and ready for those moments.”
The 1,000-yard seasons are a thing of the past either way, but Kelce has put up at least 800 yards every year in his 13-year career, save a rookie season that included all of one special teams snap.
If this is it, we’ll remember those numbers and the championships that came with him, because the numbers and the championships are remarkable.
His teammates will remember everything else.
They’ll remember the moments in this room and others like it across the NFL, ones absent two-dozen onfield cameras or the many others that follow the part of his life he used to call private.
It’s kick returner Nikko Remigio, pausing a video at home and bringing his wife into the room to show her a clip of Kelce busting his ass during what was supposed to be a walk-through.
It’s assistant general manager Mike Bradway at a Super Bowl practice, watching Kelce, all by his lonesome on a side field, go through every last one of his routes.
It’s linebacker Cole Christiansen, who has one tackle this season, having one of the best tight ends in NFL history spend the week calling him “Cap.”
Those are the moments. They’re what this retirement decision is about.
They’ve given this room its identity.
And now we wait to see if they’ll get their identity back.
This story was originally published January 4, 2026 at 9:00 PM with the headline "How Travis Kelce spent final day with teammates after what could be his last game."