One test after another.
Challenge upon challenge.
The pace of the professional season never slows—not even for the Rams and the Chiefs, who had just delivered a thrilling, unforgettable showdown. The march of the regular season continued unabated.
Fortunately, when setting the schedule, the league had accounted for the Mexico City game, considering factors like travel distance, time zones, and the impact on teams' regular preparation rhythms. So they'd planned ahead:
Both the Rams and the Chiefs would get a brief respite in the final week of November.
By sheer luck, after staging the best and most exciting game of the season, both teams could use the coming week to regroup and reset.
That was the good news.
But it was only temporary—a brief breath before the fires of competition reignited. The challenges still awaited.
Next up for the Chiefs: a road trip to face their division rival, the Oakland Raiders.
No one would forget how last season the Raiders had shocked the Chiefs, ending Kansas City's 6–0 start and triggering a disastrous six-game losing streak. Yet the Chiefs had rallied to beat the Raiders later that season, righting their ship.
Such is the nature of division rivalries—every meeting loaded with intensity and history.
This season, the Chiefs and Raiders were on completely different trajectories.
Kansas City entered at 9–2, leading the AFC and clinging to the No. 1 seed.
A dismal 2–9, circling the drain and eyeing the No. 1 draft pick.
And there was more at stake:
Earlier this year, NFL owners had voted to approve the Raiders' relocation to Las Vegas, set for the 2020 season.
That meant the Raiders, who had called Oakland home since 1995, were leaving.
And not just them—Golden State's Warriors had also announced plans to cross the Bay Bridge to San Francisco and open a new arena there.
First basketball, now football—Oakland was losing both of its teams, its sporting soul hollowed out by economic struggles, dwindling ticket sales, and a city government unable to finance new stadiums.
The pro leagues were, after all, businesses—and businesses followed profits.
But for the residents of Oakland, it was devastating. Their beloved teams—woven into the fabric of daily life—were departing.
It was as if half the sky had fallen.
They had protested, appealed, begged—but nothing could change the owners' minds.
With time running out, every home game now carried a sense of finality—a "bleak winds at Easy Water's chill" kind of atmosphere.
The mood was different.
And now the Raiders were set to face their bitter rival, the Chiefs. Perhaps this would be one of the last chapters in the storied feud between Oakland and Kansas City—a rivalry future generations might only vaguely remember.
Against this backdrop, the Raiders exploded.
Despite a disastrous season, turmoil on and off the field, and a franchise staring into an uncertain future, facing the Chiefs brought out their fighting spirit.
In front of their roaring home crowd, Oakland's offense came alive, playing with energy and aggression, turning the game into a shootout worthy of their rivalry.
At halftime, the score was close.
The Raiders were hanging in there.
Before the game, Raiders players had declared they weren't afraid of the Chiefs, didn't care that their season was effectively over, and weren't concerned about playoff standings.
This was about pride.
This was about beating Kansas City.
And they backed it up—playing as if their lives depended on it, setting their stadium ablaze with passion and keeping their fans on their feet.
But then came the third quarter.
In that single frame, Lance rushed for 101 yards, caught passes for another 32, scored two rushing touchdowns and one receiving touchdown.
A personal onslaught that broke Oakland's defense and their spirit.
After a shaky outing in the previous game, Lance had used the bye week to reset—and now he was back, in dominating form, taking complete control.
The Raiders crumbled.
Quarterback Derek Carr tried to keep them close, but two interceptions sealed their fate.
Tragic. Fierce. Somber.
Oakland simply couldn't repeat last year's miracle.
The Chiefs emerged unscathed, earning an important road win.
The score suggested a comfortable margin, but the game itself had been tight, back and forth until late in the third quarter when Kansas City finally pulled away.
The Raiders had given the defending champs a genuine test.
But the Chiefs passed that test, once again rebounding quickly from a painful loss and avoiding a skid.
They showed the maturity of a true contender.
And this victory bought them breathing room.
The Patriots had kept up the pressure all season, keeping the race for the AFC's top seed alive.
But this week, while Kansas City was winning, New England had stumbled—falling to Derrick Henry and the Tennessee Titans, dropping their third game of the year.
For now, the Chiefs held their ground atop the AFC.
But four weeks remained—plenty of opportunities for surprises.
And for Kansas City, the No. 1 seed mattered enormously.
They had yet to lose at home this season; both of their defeats had come on the road.
Home-field advantage would be critical in the playoffs.
The Chiefs had to keep winning.
And the Patriots wouldn't stop chasing.
The Chiefs' toughest home test yet, and the game that would reveal just how "real" their home dominance truly was—
A visit from one of the AFC's perennial powerhouses:
The Baltimore Ravens.
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