Trey Smith isn’t just another lineman. He’s the heartbeat of Kansas City’s trenches. A sixth-round steal turned two-time Super Bowl champ, the 6’6” mauler has been Patrick Mahomes‘ unwavering shield since day one. Pro Bowl nods, clutch blocks, and a mean streak that fuels the Chiefs’ offense – Smith’s earned his stripes. But his rise wasn’t solo. Behind every snap, every pancake, there was him—Joe Thuney. The veteran guard wasn’t just a teammate; he was the blueprint. Smith’s mentor, his safety net, the one who turned raw talent into NFL-ready dominance. Joe’s wisdom was priceless, and his presence was irreplaceable for Trey. Until suddenly… he was gone.

The Chiefs’ front office had a brutal choice: loyalty or the ledger. With mega-contracts piling up, even a legend like Thuney became collateral. Smith knew the business. That didn’t make it hurt less. Trey Smith recently dropped by Jason Kelce‘s New Heights podcast, and the 26-year-old didn’t hold back when talking about his mentor.

“Oh Joe… he’s not in the building no more,” the Chiefs guard admitted, pausing like the reality still hadn’t sunk in. “But you gotta show love. He was there when I came in.” Four years, two rings and countless battles in the trenches. Since Smith entered the league in 2021, Thuney wasn’t just his teammate—he was his lifeline.

“As a young cat, wide-eyed, freaked out… Joe’s the reason I survived,” Smith confessed. The stats back it up: back-to-back Super Bowls, a Pro Bowl guard mentoring a sixth-round rookie into a cornerstone of Kansas City’s dynasty. Then came the rawest moment. “Heartbreaking, bro. Just… yeah.” Smith’s voice thickened. “He’s gonna thrive in Chicago. I love him. But man, having him there to teach me? The nuances? How to manipulate bodies even when you’re not the biggest?” He exhaled. “That was incredible.”

Thuney’s resume speaks for itself—titles in New England and Kansas City, a masterclass in consistency. Now, Chicago gets that wisdom. But in KC? The void is personal. The Chiefs’ cap crunch made the trade inevitable. That doesn’t mean it stings less. Smith’s tribute said it all: “Future Hall of Famer. And my brother.” The salary cap might have forced Kansas City’s hand, but as Smith proved in that candid podcast moment, some losses stay with you.

The salary cap math that cost Trey Smith’s mentor, Joe Thuney, exit

Nobody in Kansas City wanted to see Joe Thuney go. Not his teammates. Not the coaches. Certainly not Trey Smith, who called the veteran guard his “brother” on New Heights. But the NFL’s financial realities don’t care about feelings. On March 12, 2025, the Chiefs made the brutal but necessary move – shipping Joe to Chicago for a future fourth-round pick. Five weeks later, the Bears locked him down with a two-year, $35 million deal. For a 32-year-old with two All-Pro nods and a reputation as KC’s most reliable lineman? That’s the kind of money the Chiefs simply couldn’t match.

“Trading Joe Thuney wasn’t easy for the Chiefs. He’s LOVED in that building,” Albert Breer tweeted after the deal. The numbers explained why: With Creed Humphrey already the NFL’s highest-paid center and Smith playing on the franchise tag, Kansas City was staring at over $30 million tied up in just two interior linemen. Joe’s $16 million cap hit was suddenly unsustainable.

The irony stung. This was the same Thuney who’d bailed KC out by sliding to left tackle during their playoff run. The same veteran who’d anchored three Super Bowl teams. But when Philly‘s pass rush exposed his limitations in the big game, the front office saw a crossroads—pay an aging star or retool.

Christian D’Andrea of USA Today put it bluntly, “Losing Thuney helps create some space to address Kansas City’s need at tackle but also takes away a potential solution.” That’s the NFL’s vicious cycle: sometimes you have to weaken a strength to fix a weakness. “He wouldn’t have been a full-time solution, but there was comfort in knowing he could make the switch,” wrote D’Andrea.

The Chiefs gambled on tomorrow by sacrificing today. Now, Brett Veach‘s front office must prove it can rebuild the trenches without the mentor who helped forge them. For Trey Smith and Kansas City, that’s the hardest block of all to execute.