The Tao of Kelce

These days, I suspect like me, you are trying to protect your psyche with everything you’ve got. As a recovering news junkie, this has not been easy for me. Prior to last November, my Spotify Wrapped for podcasts would likely have led with Pod Save America. If you’re not familiar, the hosts are Jon Favreau and other former political pundits handicapping what was then an upcoming presidential race. In retrospect, though entertaining, they did it a really, really shitty job in the prognostication department.

Thanks, Obama staffers.

After the election, I found myself hungering for auditory comfort food. I do a lot with Armchair Expert and SmartLess, and I really enjoy both of them. I learn a lot from the experts and entertainers they interview, and I find the shows go down easy: humorous, informative, nice and light.

Good stuff.

But I wanted something to scratch the itch even more effectively than either of those. Something that really fortified my faith in humanity in a mighty, vigorous, dare I say overtly masculine way. None of my usual go-to’s were accomplishing that.

This is where New Heights, the Kelce brothers podcast, entered the chat.

If you’ve been underwater or marooned for the past several years, let me introduce you to Jason and Travis Kelce. Until last year, Jason was the longtime center for the Philadelphia Eagles. He played in two Super Bowls and won one. He’s a big, lovable, beast of a man. He gives first hit off the beer bong vibes. He’s a fucking blast. In his personal life, it would appear at first as if Jason married way, way up. Once you hear and see Jason, his wife and their kids together, however, you realize it is somehow a perfect match.

Travis plays on the other side of the ball for the Kansas City Chiefs, a team that has played in every Super Bowl since Tom Brady died. I mean, retired. Whatever. Travis is a tight end, which happens to be my favorite position in football. If reincarnation is a thing, I’d probably want to come back as a tight end at least once. Travis is the ultimate utility player. He blocks. He catches. The man has hands. He gains yards after the catch. He stiff-arms would-be tacklers, rendering them hapless. He dances in the end zone, a space he is very familiar with. He’s a fucking vibe.

His girlfriend is this excellent singer/songwriter you may have heard of. She may well be the most famous woman on the planet right now. Maybe the most famous person, I haven’t checked. And Travis seems 100% cool with that. There seems to be no ego clash in the one relationship on earth in which she plays to fuller stadiums than he does. Instead, Travis dances openly and joyfully at Taylor Swift concerts. Dude’s a hard-core Swiftie. I find myself more thrilled than perhaps I should be that they are together and seemingly happy.

Both of these Kelce’s are among the very best at what they’ve done in their careers. As it happens, their teams happen to be meeting in the Super Bowl this year. Most of America hates both of these teams a lot. Me? I totally dig them both. In true fair-weather fan fashion, I have all but wholly abandoned my lifelong fandom for my local Chicago Bears in favor of these teams, and these dudes in particular.

Yet I find myself reluctant, slightly embarrassed even, to share with you my obsession with the Kelce brothers podcast, New Heights, a play on the fact that they’re from Cleveland Heights, Ohio, I’m guessing. Perhaps I fear it seems too trite, simplistic, boorish or un-intellectual.

Regardless, months ago, Julie suggested I listen to the Kelces’ interview with Will Ferrell. I thought that had to be entertaining at the least, definite comfort for the uneasy soul, good for a few laughs. And it was, to be sure.

But I quickly found that there’s something unique and special and important in what seems like inane banter between these two brothers. I’ve done a very deep dive into this podcast, and these guys are the shit.

I’ve been talking about the nature of masculinity a lot lately, and the Kelce bros come to mind frequently. When I say we need some new definition of masculinity, it looks an awful lot to me like the Tao of the Kelce Brothers. I am not joking here. I am dead serious. These guys have me revisiting, once again, the nature of masculinity, when it is healthy, and when it is toxic.

As you likely know, these guys are straight up dudes. Guy’s guys. So they talk football, a lot. But as they review the games of the week, they talk differently than other athletes or broadcasters might. They give nods and kudos to great plays by guys on other teams, often their rivals. They give each other credit for how good they are, and a good-natured, brotherly hard time when they mess things up on the field. After scoring a touchdown recently, Travis attempted to ‘dunk’ the ball over the goal post, an homage to Chiefs greats of the past. He failed big time, a true public clunker, and Jason does not let him forget it.

Friggin’ delightful.

They spend a lot of time talking about teams and coaches they love whose colors they do not wear. It’s as if these guys are best friends with the whole league. They’re fierce competitors, but they’re also keenly aware that they’re playing a game and games should be fun. So they don’t take any of it too seriously.

They’re enjoying all the fun. They celebrate football in all its iterations, whether they’re involved or not. There’s something I find enormously cool and ebullient about that.

Unabashed joy. We need a massive dose of that, and the Kelce’s offer it in spades.

And it’s not all football. They also talk about pop culture. They talk about their relationships and their family. They talk about video games and movies. They laugh. Sometimes, the stuff that they laugh about is funny. Sometimes not. But I love these dudes regardless. They are sweet and kind to guests and to one another.

Perhaps my favorite moment in any podcast ever recorded arrived last year. Jason had just retired after an illustrious career in Philadelphia. If you want to feel good about humanity, listen to this post-retirement episode. Two brothers, one honoring the other, both in tears, celebrating and grieving simultaneously, open and unashamed. Every moment was a thing of beauty, And I don’t know the humane individual who wouldn’t fall apart emotionally with them. I know I did. It was effing lovely.

I’m sure they’ve endured their fair share of conflict with one another, probably both emotionally and physically. But on the whole, it’s clear that these men lift each other up. You get the idea that neither of them would reach the heights they have without the other.

Another favorite episode of mine was their interview with Caitlin Clark, America’s phenom and Sports Illustrated’s Female Athlete of the Year. They talked about her basketball career at Iowa, and her involvement in sports in high school and before. They talked about the Indiana Fever and how they’re going to do this year against some pretty tough teams.

They also talked football and baseball and soccer and other sports. These dudes didn’t talk above or around or down to Caitlin. She was in it with them, one of them, one of the greats. Phenomenal athletes sharing thoughts and ideas with other phenomenal athletes. There was not a patronizing or misogynistic moment in this hour. These dudes had mad respect for Caitlin, and more than once suggested, correctly, that what she had already achieved in her brief career already eclipsed anything they were ever going to achieve in theirs.

It strikes me that it’s possible that there are a lot of things I would disagree with these men about. Maybe. But the fact that they are among the best athletes on the planet, family guys, that they’re revered by so many, can be goofy while having the strength and intelligence to conquer other amazing athletes, these guys feel like something special.

I’m not kidding when I say they feel like the vibe we need, the brand of masculinity we need modeled for our boys and shown to our girls. Yeah, the Kelce brothers feel like a missing link in a fresh definition of masculinity to me: strong and kind and hard-working and resilient.

They have reached heights the vast majority of us will never touch. But you wouldn’t know it by listening. You will not find a hint of narcissism or arrogance in their delivery. Neither of these men suggests they are better than anybody else. Good God, that seems like an important tenor right now, especially among men.

After my deep dive into this podcast, I caught wind of Kylie Kelce‘s nascent podcast. Kylie is Jason’s wife, and mom to their three kids, pregnant with their fourth. Her new podcast Not Gonna Lie, had just eclipsed the Joe Rogan Experience in listenership, a strikingly impressive accomplishment, in very little time.

And I find myself kind of a Kylie Kelce junkie as well. She’s upbeat and fun and funny and straightforward. I’m not her target audience, I’m pretty sure of that. A lot of content I’ve heard from her has been intended for young moms:

Buy the stupid, hideous minivan, even if you hate them, girl.

Zippers work better than buttons on baby clothes, especially at 3 AM.

If you love your husband and he’s a good guy, it’s okay if he’s an embarrassing wild doofus once in a while.

Instead of resenting her for her enormous, explosive success, both Jason and Travis celebrate her. Just the coolest.

And Kylie is SO good in her own right. She’s fun and funny and strong and brave. Just like we need more Jason and Travis, we need more Kylie as well. I’ll probably keep listening to her for the vibe alone.

So, why am I writing about these Kelce podcasts? It’s because they’re a powerful dose of humanity in times that feel harsh and inhumane. In the midst of amazing careers, they lead with kindness and goodwill. These podcasts leave me feeling optimistic about humanity, about who we can be. They make me want all the boys, and girls, I know listen to them, draft off their vibe.

I think specifically about the boys and young men I work with, so many of them hopeless about their future, all but certain their joys are behind them. And here are these brothers, so full of life, so vigorous and vulnerable and honest and resilient and tough and kind. There’s so much, so very much good energy to draft from here.

Reading this, I can imagine you might think this is all a little bit much, this glowing review. Two football playing brothers record a podcast together. Big deal, right?

But these men represent the best of masculinity to me: strength and humility and drive and kindness and humor and cooperation - you don’t win Super Bowls without a LOT of cooperation. And empathy. Lots of that.

I’m not backing down here. There’s something special about these men. The Tao of Kelce is a salve for a wounded nation, no joke. I mean it. We need this vibe, right freakin’ now.