America has had its fair share of villains—Benedict Arnold, the guy who invented robocalls, whoever keeps putting lettuce on my cheeseburger—but none have been more insidious than Travis Kelce. Yes, that Travis Kelce. The so-called “greatest tight end of all time.” The man who has somehow convinced the entire country that he’s a lovable goofball when, in reality, he is a menace to society and a personal affront to everything good and pure in this world.
For starters, let’s talk about his job. He catches a ball. That’s it. He’s not saving lives, he’s not discovering new elements on the periodic table, he’s not even doing something remotely difficult like assembling IKEA furniture. He runs in a straight line, turns around, catches an object, and then gets paid more money in a year than most of us will ever see in our lifetime. And somehow, we’re all supposed to pretend like this is impressive? I catch things all the time—my phone when I drop it, my kid when he jumps off the couch, my hopes and dreams as they plummet into oblivion. Where’s my multimillion-dollar contract, huh?
And then there’s his personality. Oh, he’s so fun! So charming! So down-to-earth! Yeah, okay. Tell that to the servers who claim he’s never tipped a day in his life. Or the grocery store employees who have reportedly seen him peel a banana, eat it in the aisle, and then just walk away. Or the countless witnesses who have watched him double-dip at every social gathering like some kind of lawless barbarian.
And don’t even get me started on his relationship with Taylor Swift. Because that’s what we really need: another celebrity couple so aggressively shoved down our throats that even my 78-year-old neighbor who still calls it “the FaceBook” knows their every move. Am I supposed to believe that this man—who absolutely looks like he still plays beer pong at family reunions—is the one for America’s sweetheart? No. I won’t allow it. Something is off here, and I’m not saying Kelce was planted by the CIA to keep us distracted, but I’m also not not saying that.
And the crimes don’t stop there. Did you know Kelce has been seen parking in handicapped spots at Costco? That he once allegedly stole a dollar from a homeless man just to “see if he could”? That he refuses to wash his hands after using the bathroom and then immediately goes around shaking people’s hands like some kind of biological weapon?
At the end of the day, Travis Kelce is too rich, too famous, too good at football, and frankly, too happy for his own good. It’s unnatural. It’s unfair. And it’s high time we, as a nation, stop pretending like this is okay.
