I hate capers.

I mean, I really hate them.

I find capers to be some rare life form that somehow finds itself in a little jar and spends its pathetic days trying to find an anchovy willing to wrap itself around it.

I hate them.

I’m also not crazy nuts about celery, beets, horror movies, heavy metal, or the Housewives of Beverly Hills. But I don’t hate them.

In fact, I’m just not a hateful person.

And you know who I don’t hate even remotely close to a caper? The Kansas City Chiefs.

And yet, I can’t listen to a radio talk show or any everyday, normal fan of the NFL who paints his face green and wears a helmet with spikes on it, that doesn’t loudly proclaim a seething hatred toward the two-time defending Super Bowl champion Chiefs.Honestly, you’d think this team was coached by Mussolini and that Charles Manson was its quarterback the way the venom flows whenever the likes of Patrick Mahomes or Andy Reid is referred to in regards to National Football League success.

So, here’s a confession. I like the Chiefs a hell of a lot more than capers. I even like them more than anchovies.

I like the way they play the game, I like their coach, and I like their quarterback. And beyond those two guys I like the fact that this may be the greatest collection of faceless athletes to ever walk off into the night holding the Lombardi Trophy while the world says, “Who were those guys?” (Jason Kelsie is an outlier who borrowed his act from George Kittle)

They are led by a coach whose life has been crossed by tragedy, and who possesses one of the best football minds to come along since that Walsh guy was employed by our local football heroes.

Opposing coaches have said about him, “every game he comes up with a dozen plays that his opponent has never seen.”

Given two weeks to prepare for a Super Bowl is why I’m never going to bet against Andy Reid.

One other opposing defensive coordinator said about Reid, “The defense thinks it has the answer, and Reid changes the question.”

And, even though Andy Reid was raised in Los Angeles and played (but not very much) his college football at BYU under Lavell Edwards, his coaching roots are right here in San Francisco.

The first assistant coaching job Reid had after college was at San Francisco State under a legendary local, Vic Rowan. He still points to Rowan as one of his most influential mentors.

San Francisco State is not exactly a football powerhouse, and Vic Rowan is not quite a household name. But ask football people about him and you’d get a different answer. His coaching tree beyond Reid, consists of Mike Holmgren (A super Bowl winning coach), Dirk Koetter (former Tampa Bay Buc and ASU head coach), Gil Haskell (Seattle and Carolina offensive coordinator) and Bob Toledo (former UCLA and Tulane head coach). Not bad for a school whose biggest rival was Chico State.

I promise you. Come a week from Sunday, Andy Reid will also throw in a couple of trick plays just for good measure. I once asked him about his penchant to do that and he said, “They’re not trick plays if you practice them.”

Andy Reid was once described by the New York Times as “a designer, a tinkerer, and a product engineer who imbues his football with creativity and even on occasion, a touch of whimsy.”

And when the Chiefs drafted a quarterback out of Texas Tech with a host of gadgets in his pocket, “whimsy” took on a whole new meaning.

Reid may be the artist, but Patrick Mahomes is his paint brush. The two of them couldn’t be more different, and more alike.

With all due respect to Josh Allen, Joe Burrows, and Lamar Jackson, I’m taking Patrick Mahomes as the quarterback I want running my team in the big game, He’s a freak.

Somebody once said, “He changes the geometry of the field with his arm and his legs.”

Mahomes probably could have played professionally in three sports. He was born to a baseball family. His dad pitched in the major leagues.

In a little league baseball game, Patrick Mahomes decided to swing a bat left-handed and used a wooden bat to do so. He hit a home run.

He drove a golf ball 400 yards.

He would fill high school gyms with people wanting to see him play basketball.

One of his friends said of him, “He’s so good in Ping-Pong, he makes you screw up.”

He got into an axe-throwing contest in a Nashville bar and threw six bullseyes in a row.

The most cogent comment I’ve read about him probably tells you all you need to hear. “He’s like Steph Curry. He changes the game.”

Next Sunday, I really think the Eagles will be the better team on the field. And I’m betting on Kansas City.

Hate on that if you must.

What’s wrong with this picture?

Finally, while I’m not yet ready to start singing “Take Me Out to the Ball Game” quite yet, but I do think it’s worth thinking about what we might expect from our baseball playing contingent this season.

There is a new attitude in Giantsville this year. Buster Posey, a guy who actually played the game, has taken over the big chair in the Giants office of baseball operations and generally speaking there are smiles all around.

What I’m sure will be Topic A for Posey, will be rebuilding the minor league system, which has been broken since the glory years of Posey, Belt, Crawford, Lincecum, Cain and Bumgarner.

ESPN printed its Top-100 prospects list this week. The Giants had one player — Bryce Eldridge — on the list. He was number 51.

The Dodgers had nine on the list, four in the top 20.

I just hate that!

But not as much as capers.