The making of Patrick Mahomes: The best stories of a child-athlete prodigy

The friendships have spanned two decades, but the origins were built on East Texas baseball diamonds, basketball floors and football fields — oh, and in driveways and backyards illuminated by spotlights long after the sun had set.

The group comprised a collection of good athletes, even by Texas-sized standards, more than a few of them bound for Division I programs.

But they had a standout.

“We all knew that Pat, he had a chance to make it.”

The last name is omitted there, by the way:

Mahomes.

That quote is from Ryan Cheatham, a childhood friend who heard about Patrick Mahomes before he ever saw him. The kid in Tyler is how he knew first.

They’re best friends today, the group from East Texas, same as they ever were.

Except this: That kid from Tyler will appear in his fourth Super Bowl on Sunday against the 49ers in Las Vegas.

The trip here? Mahomes’ buddies budgeted for it long ago, some of them before the season even started, because, well, they had a feeling.

They’ve always had a feeling about this.

And they have the stories and memories to prove it.

The Patrick Mahomes humble beginnings

Patrick Mahomes once got banned from playing shortstop for an entire season — midway into his first T-ball practice.

His dad had signed him up to play with the older kids because, already, it was evident he wasn’t quite like his peers.

Well, evident to some.

Early into the first practice, the coach hit a ground ball to Mahomes at shortstop — before the ban — and he whipped a throw across the diamond. Like, really whipped a throw.

The baseball hit the first baseman square in the face. Broke his glasses.

Afterward, the coaches told Mahomes he had to roll the baseball to first base. That didn’t work, of course, so they instead moved Mahomes to first base and catcher for the season.

Fewer throws.

Fewer injured kindergartners.

“Growing up, I’d always been able to catch, throw, stuff like that,” Mahomes said. “I didn’t know everybody couldn’t do that.”

Didn’t know he was different.

His friends, they knew it.

The competitive juice

There is some nature-versus-nurture debate to the Patrick Mahomes story, more than people realize considering his father played Major League Baseball for 11 seasons. A career in sports is literally in the bloodlines.

The nurture? It points toward a defining characteristic of the friend group, a trait they believe is part of what drew Mahomes in.

The competitive juice, one called it.

They were all three-sport athletes, but before mentioning anything Mahomes did in a game that involved an official score, they’ll tell you about the games when they kept their own score.

Backyard tackle football went full speed, sure. Driveway basketball, absolutely.

But Jake Parker’s house had trampoline basketball, which is pretty much exactly what it sounds like. And...

“Somebody’s getting dunked on,” said Coleman Patterson, part of the circle of friends. “And then somebody’s getting upset and trying to dunk on someone else.

“You name it, we made it a competition.”

The Patterson and Cheatham houses had ping pong. Mahomes has quipped that it might have been his best sport growing up, and, remember, he played in the Junior League World Series at 14.

They all had the basketball goals out front, which would keep them up until morning.

“There were some things we played just for fun,” Cheatham said. “But there would definitely be moments I was like, ‘Dang, this dude wants to win as much as possible.’”

The ‘coolest’ highlight

Mahomes played three varsity sports at Whitehouse High School, and Wednesday here in Las Vegas, that topic came up in the way it generally tends to come up.

How did playing basketball and baseball assist his eventual football career?

“It taught me how to compete. It taught me how to make things happen, how to make adjustments on the fly,” he said. “And then it’s kind of evolved into the way I play the quarterback position — being able to fill out space and make a pass like a point guard or throw across my body like a shortstop.”

It’s a thoughtful reply to an old question.

But the one few ask: the vice versa. The football and baseball player showed up on the basketball court too.

Like his favorite highlight — kind of his favorite highlight.

When Mahomes attended a basketball camp as an 8-year-old, an opposing player hit what appeared to be a game-winning shot. One of Mahomes’ teammates actually put his head down and began to walk toward the bench.

Mahomes? He called for the in-bounds pass, took two dribbles and launched a one-handed shot from three-quarters court at the buzzer — like a quarterback throwing the deep post or a center fielder on a sacrifice fly.

Good.

The “coolest” buzzer beater he hit, he said. And yeah, that’s a reminder that he had others to choose.

But with a twist.

“The only thing that stunk about that: It was at a basketball camp, and I was playing up with the older kids and there were no 3-pointers,” Mahomes said. “Even though I hit that shot, it was only worth two points. We had to go to overtime.”

He shook his head for the last sentence, as though he’s still bothered by it today.

“We ended up losing in overtime.”

House rules

His mom caved pretty early on a rule most parents attempt to enforce.

No sports balls in the house.

Her rule? At least don’t throw it at the TV.

“I would throw it off the TV because I was watching TV at the same time,” Mahomes said, matter-of-factly. “And she used to get real mad.”

He wants to point out, though, that he never did break a screen.

Mahomes, the pitcher

The first time Jake Parker saw his buddy play, Mahomes was on the opposing team.

The pitcher, to be exact.

The most uncomfortable at-bat of his life.

“For one, he threw so hard,” Parker said. “But there were shorter (distances to the) mounds back then, when you’re like 11 years old.

“You could barely see the ball coming at you while you were hitting.”

He didn’t just throw hard. He was “wild as (crap),” Cheatham said.

Which made for more than an uncomfortable at-bat.

Parker would join Mahomes’ team — the Rockies, if he remembers correctly. There was a problem when Mahomes pitched: No one could catch him.

So Parker had to squat behind the plate and take the assignment. He’d wear a batting glove on his left hand to avoid blisters.

Oh, and one more detail you should know.

“I wasn’t even really a catcher,” Parker said.

The hoops game

Whitehouse High School’s biggest rival was John Tyler High, located just 16 miles across town. Mahomes grew up in Tyler and refers to it as his hometown.

The Tyler-Whitehouse basketball games drew big crowds. Lively, too. Fans would run up and down the stands when something big happened.

Mahomes and his friends didn’t consider basketball to be their top sport, “but we would just figure out a way to win,” Cheatham said. And man, they wanted to beat Tyler High — especially at their place.

“He comes down on a fast break and, mind you, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him dunk a basketball — but he comes down a fast break, with the defender basically on the block, and Pat takes off and puts the ball behind his head and dunks on this kid,” Cheatham said. “The entire gym goes crazy.”

The early prime-times

They remember the big games.

But they more specifically remember then-No. 5’s intensity in the big games.

A starting pitching matchup once pitted Mahomes against Michael Kopech, who now throws fastballs for the Chicago White Sox.

Mahomes threw a no-hitter. Struck out 16. Whitehouse won 2-1. (A walk would eventually score. Told you he was wild.)

They all but required the no-hitter to win.

Mahomes, the hitter

Patterson played baseball with Mahomes from the time they were about 10 years old until they finished high school. He couldn’t decide whether his future would be better suited as a pitcher or a hitter.

But if you’re wondering what the most incredible thing he ever saw Mahomes do, he’ll actually first share something he never saw him do.

Strike out.

It must’ve happened. Had to have. Right?

“If it happened, I don’t remember it,” Patterson said. “I didn’t see him strike out until we got to college.”

The pass — but not with a football

A day after his final high school football game, Mahomes texted his basketball coach, Brent Kelley, and requested to play the next day. He already planned on playing baseball and football in college, but he didn’t want to miss his senior season of basketball. Kelley obliged, but he brought him off the bench.

A couple of days later, after Mahomes got in his first practice of the season, he was in the starting lineup.

In one sequence, he collected a rebound and, while falling down, threw a pass three-quarters the length of the court.

Hit a teammate in stride. Led to a layup.

Kelley still saves the play on his phone.

“I remember texting a buddy after that game: ‘Man, I’m coaching a professional,’” Kelley said.

Super Bowl LVIII

He is a professional, of course.

Which has made for an ironic dynamic: The best friends who saw this coming, the ones who saw it before the rest of us, are those who can’t quite believe it — because they’re living it too, just a little differently.

They’re headed to Super Bowl LVIII here in Las Vegas, all of them, same as they traveled to Miami, Tampa Bay and Glendale, Arizona. Patterson got married last year and informed his wife of his winter plans: two weekends in Kansas City in January and a trip to the Super Bowl in February. The first had a slight change of plans. The Super Bowl is coming anyway.

They’ll open Super Bowl Sunday same as they do any other game day — by trying to fire up the guy they once called a teammate. In a group chat, they’ll send Mahomes quick words of encouragement, often a GIF to go with it. The Andy Reid Dab is a favorite.

Mahomes will fire a reply.

They’ll take their seats inside Allegiant Stadium.

He’ll take the field.

“We get to see one of our best friends live out his dream, and we’re living through him,” Patterson said. “This is something we all get to do together. We don’t take it for granted — because what he’s doing it not normal.”

Never was.