SHINY THING$ 0169 ✨

With Super Bowl LIX just seven days away between the Kansas City Chiefs and the Philadelphia Eagles, we can expect an onslaught of storylines and manufactured media drama leading into the most watched yearly event in pro sports. So, in this, the 169th installment of Shiny Things$, we wanted to look back at one of the wildest Super Bowl stories of all time (from a time long before non-stop salacious instagram clips hijacked our collective consciousness). And it all took place in the same 2025 host city of New Orleans 55 years ago.

In 1970, Super Bowl IV had it all—controversy, chaos, and a head coach who somehow kept it all together while orchestrating one of the most iconic plays in football history.

The brief story of the improbable Kansas City Chiefs first ever Super Bowl victory, and one of the craziest days in the history of the NFL 👇

The Madness of Super Bowl IV

Hank Stram, legendary AFL and NFL head coach and play caller for the 1969/70 Chiefs, had a way of cooking up plays that felt like they belonged in a magician’s handbook rather than a football playbook. He was an innovator in an era when football was, to be honest, pretty basic. While the run-play was still king, Stram was always thinking bigger. He was known to sit in his pool, free from any distractions, and run solo strategy sessions — from which came some of the most influential schemes in football history: the moving pocket, the I formation, deceptive backfield motion, and, the legendary “65 Toss Power Trap”… the play that would define the Kansas City Chiefs' first Super Bowl victory.

It was a play that shouldn’t have worked as well as it did. A fake toss sweep that redirected into an inside handoff for running back Mike Garrett. Just a simple five-yard touchdown, but it put the Chiefs in firm control of a game they would eventually win by 16 points. Stram, already a charismatic leader, turned into a football icon overnight, thanks in part to Steve and Ed Sabol of NFL Films, who had the foresight to mic him up during the game. His voice—urging the team to “keep matriculating the ball down the field”—became as memorable as the play itself.

But what most people don’t remember is just how insane everything leading up to that Super Bowl was. If today's media cycle existed back then, the headlines alone might have swallowed the game whole.

· · · ·

Scandals, Chaos, and the Coolest Man in Football

A few days before the game, the Chiefs' quarterback, Len Dawson, was suddenly linked to a federal gambling investigation. It’s hard for anyone under the age of 25 to believe, but gambling was VERY illegal, and everyone who stepped foot in an NFL locker room or spoke a word on an NFL broadcast of any kind knew to never EVER make any implication that gambling was connected to the game. It was the kind of news that could have completely derailed a team in 1970. 

The league office scrambled. NFL commissioner Pete Rozelle personally called a late-night meeting with the country’s top sports reporters, chain-smoking and trying to control the damage. Dawson, though never formally charged, became the center of a controversy that threatened to take the air out of the Chiefs’ biggest moment.

Stram, meanwhile, played it cool. He devised a strategy to hide Dawson in different hotel rooms to keep the press away, even letting him crash in his own room at times. When Stram finally addressed the team, his speech wasn’t just a pep talk—it was a psychological masterstroke. By the time he was done, his veteran players were furious at the mere idea that their leader could be accused of anything shady. The team left that meeting with a singular focus: Win the Super Bowl. The gambling scandal? It may as well have never happened.

· · · ·

The Out of Control Hot Air Balloon 

As if that wasn’t enough, the game itself got off to a surreal start. 

The week before the Super Bowl, the city of New Orleans experienced an unexpected cold front that froze parts of the city. The day of the game, temperatures snuck back into the high 50s, but the wind wouldn’t subside. With a 2:30 scheduled kickoff, the city and the area around the stadium spent much of the morning under a tornado warning. The pre-game festivities, including a hot air balloon carrying the Vikings mascot, went on as scheduled.

That was a mistake. 

The Vikings mascot attempted to launch the balloon, but it quickly broke loose, drifting into the sky briefly before crashing directly into the stands. The chaotic moment fit the mood of the times—it was January 1970, a period of turbulence in America, and this Super Bowl felt no different. No one suffered any serious injuries, but it did delay the kickoff and the grounds crew worked to get the balloon out of the stands and unravel the nylon that was now wrapped around seats and support beams.  

Through it all, Stram was unshakable, a mix of swagger and strategy. He knew how to command attention and keep his team dialed in. He had this rare ability to handle everything at once, like a con artist pulling off the ultimate heist while keeping a smile on his face.

· · · ·

A Mastermind at Work

Stram’s genius wasn’t just in his scheming; it was in his timing. Leading up to the game, he let the Vikings’ defense believe the Chiefs would keep attacking the outside with toss plays. Then, at the perfect moment, he dialed up 65 Toss Power Trap.

The Vikings defense bit hard on the fake toss, and before they realized it, running back Mike Garrett was waltzing untouched into the end zone. It was a masterpiece. Depending on who you ask, the Chiefs had run that play only two or three times all season. Some players swear they hadn’t even practiced it in weeks. Yet, there it was, the defining moment of the game, executed to perfection.

“It caught them at a disadvantage,” Garrett later said. “They had a great defense and they got off the ball so quickly, so that play works against a great defense. When we faked the toss, they were all on it.”

Stram’s confidence never wavered. The play became the be all end all for the Chiefs on their way to a 23-7 victory in a game that, on paper, wasn’t supposed to be competitive. Minnesota came in as a 13.5 point favorite, the 2nd biggest favorite in Super Bowl history—but Stram had built a team that believed in him. He understood football theater better than anyone, turning the biggest game of the year into his own personal stage.

· · · ·

Legacy That Lasts

Today, you can find Stram’s handwritten playbook tucked on a nondescript shelf in the home of his son, Dale Stram. Inside, 65 Toss Power Trap is drawn up in a tiny, meticulous square, surrounded by dozens of other plays that made Stram one of the most innovative minds in football.

But his legacy wasn’t just about the Xs and Os. It was about the way he coached—bold, creative, and cool under pressure. He was the guy dreaming up plays while floating in a pool, the guy who could shield his star quarterback from a scandal, and the guy who could crack jokes on the sideline while beating up on a powerhouse team in the biggest game of his life.

Chiefs head coach Andy Reid has made it clear that Stram’s influence still runs deep in Kansas City. The team meets in a room named after him, their production team carries the name of 65 Toss Power Trap, and Reid himself—known for his own offensive wizardry—has drawn inspiration from Stram’s chaotic brilliance.

Stram’s era was about pushing boundaries, about finding ways to make football more than just a game. And watching Reid, also know for dialing up trick plays, and building what has now become an offensive juggernaut feels like the perfect tribute to the man who once turned the Super Bowl into a playground.

Until Next Week…