Travis Kelce Breaks Chiefs’ Touchdown Record but Victory Slips Away in Heartbreaking Loss to Broncos

Kansas City, MO – November 16, 2025

It was a moment that should have been electric. A milestone that should have drawn thunderous cheers from Arrowhead Stadium. Travis Kelce, the Kansas City Chiefs’ longtime star tight end, etched his name into franchise history on Sunday, surpassing Priest Holmes for the most total touchdowns in team history with 84. On a critical fourth-quarter drive, quarterback Patrick Mahomes found Kelce on a 21-yard touchdown pass, giving the Chiefs their first lead in a tightly contested matchup against the Denver Broncos.

Yet instead of basking in the moment, Kelce left the locker room with little celebration and only one blunt statement:

“If you were going to ask me about the record, I could care less about that right now.”

For Kelce, individual records mean little without victories. And on this night, a last-second 35-yard field goal from Broncos kicker Wil Lutz crushed the Chiefs’ hopes, leaving a bitter taste after a game that could have been a defining step toward reclaiming the AFC West crown.

Breaking Records, But at What Cost?

Kelce’s milestone was historic. The 34-year-old tight end surpassed Priest Holmes’ 83 career touchdowns, solidifying his place not only in Chiefs history but in NFL lore. Over the years, Kelce has been the anchor of Kansas City’s offense, the reliable target Mahomes trusts in every critical situation. He has redefined the tight end position with a blend of size, speed, and hands that few have ever matched.

Yet the record, in the context of Sunday’s defeat, felt hollow. The Chiefs’ offense sputtered outside of Kelce, especially in the second half. Star wide receiver Rashee Rice, who had emerged as Mahomes’ secondary weapon in recent games, was effectively neutralized, seeing just two targets in the second half. The rest of the receiver corps, including Xavier Worthy and Hollywood Brown, combined for just one catch for three yards after halftime.

The strategic choice baffled fans and analysts alike. “Don’t understand why the Chiefs went away from their easy button, Rashee Rice,” tweeted Arrowhead Addict analyst Adam Best. “Drops happen. Can’t just ignore your most dynamic playmaker who can win quickly and defang the pass rush.”

For Mahomes, it was a frustrating evening as well. He completed 64.4% of his passes, a respectable mark but one that pales in comparison to his usual production. Outside of Kelce, the passing game lacked

The Historic Score That Wasn’t Enough

On a cold November Sunday night at Empower Field at Mile High, Travis Kelce did something no one else in Kansas City Chiefs history had done. In the fourth quarter, facing a crucial third‑and‑six, Patrick Mahomes dropped back, looked for his favorite target — and found him. Kelce caught a 21‑yard pass, broke a safety in the open field, and charged into the end zone. With that play, he reached 84 total touchdowns, breaking Priest Holmes’s long-standing franchise record of 83.

But the irony cut deep. Even as Kelce made history, the Chiefs were slipping — and in the end, suffering a nightmare of a defeat.

A Strange Journey Through the Wilderness

Earlier that week, in a town on the edge of nowhere, an old man named Marlow had wandered into a remote forest. He was a drifter, a traveler with only a backpack and an old notebook full of scribbles. He hadn’t meant to find anything — certainly not him, but there he stood, under the skeletal branches, watching the creature-shape stride through the mist.

It looked human. But its eyes glowed faintly red, and its limbs moved with an unnatural grace, like something halfway between man and myth. As Marlow stepped forward, heart pounding, he realized that the creature bore the number 87 on its chest.

“I am Travis,” it whispered, voice echoing as though spoken through wind and echoes. “But I have become more.”

And so the stranger watched, breath held, as this creature recounted in a soft, trembling voice its long journey. The forest seemed to shift around them — shadows deepening, branches creaking, the air thick with ancient sorrow.

The Record-Breaking Touchdown: Fact and Emotion

Back in Denver, the significance of Kelce’s record was not lost on anyone. He’d tied Holmes just weeks earlier with his 83rd touchdown against the Washington Commanders, celebrating with a 10-yard catch in a Monday night game.

He hugged teammates, he pointed to the sky, scanning the suites high above — where, according to reports, Taylor Swift and Brittany Mahomes were watching.

Patrick Mahomes, his longtime passer, called him “the true Chiefs Chief,” praising not just his talent, but his energy, his presence, and his loyalty to Kansas City.

Commentators watched in awe. The stadium’s roar quieted in places, replaced by something reverent. This wasn’t just another touchdown — this was history, etched in the ledger of a storied franchise.

The Tide Turns: When Greatness Isn’t Enough

But as the clock wound down, things unravelled. The defense fell apart; missed assignments, blown coverages, unforced errors. The Chiefs’ lead slipped away. In the stands, fans who had cheered Kelce’s milestone began to sink into uneasy silence.

Social media exploded. Clips of Kelce’s catch went viral — but so did replays of the team’s collapse. Analysts wondered how a squad so built for success could crumble in such a moment. The headlines came fast: “Kelce makes history, but Chiefs fall apart,” “Record-setting night ends in heartbreak.”

Kelce himself sat in the locker room later, helmet off, face dark. Reporters asked for his reaction. He smiled weakly — not triumphant, but weary. “Records are great,” he said, “but they don’t win games alone.”

Marlow’s Night with the Creature

Meanwhile, in the forest, Marlow listened quietly to the creature’s tale. It spoke of pain and purpose. It had carried the weight of expectation — of being a living record. It spoke of moments of triumph, but also of solitude. It confessed that breaking the record felt hollow, if what you earn comes at too great a cost.

“I chased a crown,” it said, “but now the forest chases me.”

Marlow, trembling, whispered: “What happens next?”

The creature turned its eyes to the ancient trees. Tentatively, it smiled. “I do not know.”

But as lightning cracked, illuminating the clearing, the forest seemed to breathe. The creature vanished, dissolving like mist — leaving Marlow alone, with only his own racing heart.

Reactions Across the Kingdom

Back in Kansas City, Priest Holmes himself offered congratulations. Once the gold standard for touchdowns in Chiefs uniform, he acknowledged that records are meant to be broken.

Former teammates, opponents, analysts all weighed in. Some saw Kelce’s milestone as the inevitable zenith of a Hall-of-Fame career. Others saw a cautionary tale — how even the greatest can’t carry a team alone.

Coach Andy Reid spoke modestly. “He’s still the same guy who shows up every day, with energy, with love for the game,” Reid said. “But every team needs more than one hero.”

The fanbase was torn. Some celebrated the century-defining touchdown, chanting Kelce’s name on social media like a mantra. Others vented anger — “greatest scorer,” they wrote, “but worthless when it mattered.”