ChiefsAholic: A Wolf in Chief’s Clothing follows devastating addiction framed as football fandom

ChiefsAholic: A Wolf in Chief’s Clothing. // Courtesy Amazon

On Christmas Eve, Amazon Video drops a flick that will surely become the cornerstone of many Kansas Citian holiday celebrations—and almost certainly the prompt for some inter-family disagreements, as if 2024 left those in short supply. Releasing a month after the Hallmark r0m-com Holiday Touchdown: A Chiefs Love Story, this new feature makes for an odd one-two punch for local sports celebrants and how the rest of the world sees us. I’m not sure which version is more wacky to an outsider, but this entry sparks questions requiring heavier reflection for those in the Kingdom.

ChiefsAholic: A Wolf in Chief’s Clothing is a true-crime documentary that follows the harrowing story of Kansas City Chiefs superfan and serial bank robber Xaviar Babudar—famously known as “ChiefsAholic.” Recognized for his distinctive wolf costume and boisterous social media antics, Babudar rose to fame as one of Kansas City’s most fervent fans. However, a secret life came to light when he was arrested in Bixby, Oklahoma, unraveling a series of unsolved bank robberies committed across the Midwest. Through interviews granted by Babudar himself, ChiefsAholic explores critical moments in the events surrounding Babudar’s initial arrest, and offers a firsthand perspective on his subsequent journey.

Illustration of ChiefsAholic by KC artist W. David Keith

Much like following the story unfold back when it hit, there are plenty of jokes to be made about a social media star and weirdo mascot who seemed to be bankrolling his attendance at Chiefs games via a life of crime. In terms of dedicated fans, the Robin Hood-esque idea of a bank robber who just really, really needed to be there to support Patrick Mahomes is inherently giggle-worthy. Perhaps less so when considering the mass appeal/understanding of so many Chiefs fans who can empathize with thinking that prices to attend games have ballooned to the point where crime might be the only viable solution, thanks to the one-two punch of ownership greed and inflation. It’s never a great sign when a team you’d love to go out and support more often inspires knowing sighs of “I get it” when you hear about a man pulling felonies to reach the same goal.

Similarly, the story here settles into other lanes of human frustrations and fallibility in the face of tunnel vision.

Directed by Dylan Sires, ChiefsAholic opens by diving into the vast joy and hedonistic excess on display across The Kingdom, focusing on other Chiefs super-fans and their shared community. Many of them knew Babudar in real life, or via direct messaging on social media, or simply via parasocial relationships with the famous poster. Their shock and humor around the breaking story of a bank robber in their midst echoes the jokes many of us made at the time, while showcasing that Babudar in his wolf costume was nowhere near alone at the top of fan fanaticism in this city.

Via interviews, news clips, and re-enactments, Sires hustles the viewer through the identification, chase, and capture of the furry antagonist. As soon as our subject reaches captivity, that’s when the real wolves start to come out. A number of hangers-on and ambulance chasers seeking to make themselves part of the story begin to appear from the shadows. Among them are a bumbling defense lawyer whose strongest talent seems to be holding press conferences with tortured football puns, who quickly wears out his welcome in the doc. Another massive chunk of the film belongs to the bail bondsman who pays for Xaviar Babudar’s court fees and puts him up at a hotel. The trust placed in his newfound friendship with the famous felon earns him screentime in the documentary, but also winds up earning a predictable amount of frustration and disappointment when the wolf goes on the run.

ChiefsAholic: A Wolf in Chief’s Clothing. // Courtesy Amazon

While holed up in this hotel room awaiting judgment for his crime, the film shows Babudar watching a Chiefs game while raucously celebrating—less the game itself, and more the outpouring of love, support, and celebration he receives while shitposting online. The international attention has done nothing but quadruple his following, and the people are here to celebrate him as an integral part of the victory. Babudar screams and punches the air, embracing his wins in all their forms, especially his celebrity status, cemented by unending memes, favs, shares, and replies.

ChiefsAholic: A Wolf in Chief’s Clothing. // Courtesy Amazon

It’s here, at the exact midpoint of the documentary, where Babudar has evolved from wolf into ensnared party animal, that the film cuts away to a different story in a much more somber tone. Mostly forgotten in all this silliness, grandstanding, and chaos are the lives of the people in the bank that Babudar robbed. A teller, a mother with young children, recalls being held at gunpoint by a stranger and believing that this would be the way she died. She recounts her fear and that of her coworkers and other bystanders before delving into the permanent trauma that still haunts her life. The man who we just saw screaming in celebration at the people on his phone has left real damage in his wake.

The film’s backhalf seems to be catching the momentum of the first half and asking the audience for an immediate re-evaluation. Without needing to make this cloying or obvious, the mere act of tracing Babudar’s steps begins to pull away the layers that masked his behavior. You’ll start seeing more and more shots of casinos in the KC area, security footage from retail parking lots, and all the other places where a gambling addict leaves a trail of criminal and/or obsessive behavior. The “ChiefsAholic” more and more clearly is a barely functional human being, who claws and uses everyone around him to keep chasing a high he’ll never catch. The guise of football fanatic is either the disguise of someone trying to hide his intentions within an overly-supportive community or it is simply yet another manifestation of a man whose mental illness knows exactly one method of interacting with the world.

While the film’s time spent with a bondsman prodding the elderly family member of a criminal begins to feel like asking too many questions about why household living in fear and poverty would turn to the only solutions they felt they could pursue, the real darkness is to be found in reapproaching members of the Chiefs fandom in the wake of the revelation of multiple bank robberies. Juxtaposed against the trauma of a woman held at gunpoint, famous football superfans claiming that they still support him or that the accusations can’t be true reinforces a sort of broken tribalism that’s difficult to take in. The behaviors and patterns that would, without a wolf costume, make any of these same people recognize a self-destructive human being in deep need of intervention, are the same behaviors that when draped in red and yellow arrowheads, make him a person whose ever action has earned support and even celebration.

In the end, the film that many will approach as a sort of sports-adjacent documentary are going to find something much darker than merely a pivot to true crime—rather a heartbreaking look at the dangers of parasocial relationships and even social media stardom writ large. Equally, its a bleak look at how one-dimensional we can make a complicated human being with just tiny fragments of information about who they really are, and how many people are waiting in the wings of our society to make a quick buck off the vulnerable and broken. To mask all that under a jersey and a wolf costume should’ve made this easier, not harder, to see from a distance.