In the fourth round of the same draft, 113th overall, the Patriots selected Aaron Hernandez, a highly regarded tight end from the University of Florida. Although considered undersized at six one, 245 pounds, Hernandez was another outstanding tight end prospect, thanks to his speed and hand-eye coordination. How would New England integrate two rookies into a position that many NFL teams considered an afterthought?
“I really like what New England did with Rob,” Dimel said. “Some people put a knock on him coming out that said he needed to work on his blocking, but I said that’s one area he excels at. Rob can do everything, so they use him in different roles, and a guy like Hernandez, who’s a little undersized, they use as a halfback or a route runner.”
Statistics from 2010 illustrate that neither rookie took a back seat. The pair combined for eighty-eight receptions, more than 1,100 yards, and sixteen touchdowns. Hernandez had forty-five catches for 563 yards with six touchdowns; Gronkowski added forty-three receptions for 546 yards and ten touchdowns. Not only could two star tight ends exist together, they could both thrive in a potent offense.
Two star tight ends on one roster? It is a philosophical shift from just a few years earlier, when most pro teams did not even feature one.
Dan Gronkowski understands the seismic changes that are taking place at the tight end position. Having played with four NFL teams, including a role as the third tight end in New England’s innovative offense, he has seen a variety of methods to employ the position to its maximum advantage.
“Tight ends used to be just for blocking,” he said. “Now people are realizing in advanced offenses that you can get somebody on the field to confuse defenses. It’s tough to get reads off a guy like Rob who’s good at blocking and receiving. Then you throw another guy out there like Hernandez, who’s a great receiving tight end, and defenses start thinking it’s a passing situation, but you can surprise them with a run, because they’re capable of that too. It’s really about messing with a defense and putting different things out there so they have to react.”
With tight ends becoming bigger, part of Dan’s off-season goal was to add pounds and strength to his already large frame. He knows that getting a matchup advantage is always the goal, and he wants to help the Cleveland Browns achieve that. His brother already possesses size.
“Rob is bigger, stronger, and faster than any other tight end,” Dan said. “When you put him against a safety, he can use his body against the defender. If you put him against a linebacker, he’s going to be quicker than a linebacker. So no matter how you try to defend him, he’s going to beat you.”
Receiving is only part of the equation. In college, Dan was taught that if he wanted to get on the field, it was essential that he excel at blocking, effectively moving a defender off the line of scrimmage. It remains a basic requirement for a tight end.
“I used to teach Rob when he watched me in college,” Dan said. “But now I’m taking pointers from him. His strength has taken over. Watch the film on Rob, and it’s amazing. He’s driving guys five yards off the ball. He’s not only the best receiving tight end, he’s also the best blocking tight end in the NFL. Part of the reason is that he works hard at that too.”
“Short of Tom Brady, I think Rob Gronkowski is as dominating a player as there is on the Patriots,” said Tony Massarotti, a talk show host and former reporter for the Boston Herald and Boston Globe. Massarotti has been writing and talking about sports in Boston for more than twenty years.
“It’s early to say this, but I think he’s the best tight end in the league and has a shot at being one of the great players in team history,” Massarotti said. “He’s the rarest of the rare. He’s big, strong, fast, and has great hands. There’s nothing he cannot do. If you look at great blocking tight ends in history, Gronkowski has to be in the conversation. If you look at catching the ball, he’s right there too. Put it together and I’m not sure there’s anyone quite like him.”
Most pundits agree that part of an athlete’s greatness is tied to longevity. It is far too early in Rob’s career to put him in context, but there is little doubt that he has potential to erase many long-standing records.
“Health issues have affected him,” Massarotti conceded. “But what he’s done in his first few years is ridiculous. If he stays on this path, he’ll go down as one of the greatest, if not the greatest.”
Rosenhaus, agent for the three Gronkowski brothers, recited a list of tight ends he represents in the NFL. But he knows that Rob stands out.
“We have a lot of great tight-end clients, ranging from Kellen Winslow, Jeremy Shockey, Benjamin Watson, and Randy McMichael,” he said. “We recruited Rob as the first- or second-ranked tight end going into his draft. I’m proud of him. With his size and speed, already he’s one of the most impressive athletes that has ever played that position.”
Rob as a one-year-old, 1990.
Sporting a tricorn hat and his Patriots jersey, Rob flashes a smile.
10
Rob: The Superstar
“I was always the one getting picked on and beat up, but it was a blast. We probably played for four hours every day. Three of the four were great, but at least one hour each day was spent fighting.”
—ROB GRONKOWSKI
TEAMMATES ON THE NEW ENGLAND Patriots affectionately refer to him as Frankenstein. His body is often described as “freakish.” As a kid, his Little League baseball coach called him “the Gorilla.”
Rob Gronkowski is a physical specimen like almost no one else.
During their formative years, most of the Gronkowski boys hit a growth spurt during high school. Gordie took a little longer—he grew during his first year of college.
Not so for Rob. He was always bigger than boys his own age.
“The first time I met him, I was ten years old,” said childhood friend John Ticco. “I was playing on a Little League baseball team, and this kid showed up. He was already six feet tall. I looked up at him and asked, ‘Whose brother are you?’”
Rob stared back. “What do you mean about a brother? I’m on your team.”
“You can’t be on my team,” Ticco replied. “You’re too old.”
When Rob insisted, Ticco used a ten-year-old’s logic, pressing Rob to recite his birth date. The answer came back: May 14, 1989. Ticco’s jaw dropped: he was actually two weeks older than this giant kid.
Years later, Ticco laughs at the story.
“I had never seen somebody that big before who was my age.”
Another boyhood friend, Charlie Teal, remembers bragging to his father about Rob’s athletic prowess, only to be met with doubt.
“In eighth grade, I told my dad I had a buddy who could dunk a basketball, and he didn’t believe me,” Teal said. “But it was true. We were playing driveway basketball, and Rob ran up, jumped over two kids, and dunked one-handed. He was so much bigger and stronger than everybody else.”
It wasn’t long before his skills were being noticed by high school coaches. As a freshman, Rob was elevated to the junior varsity basketball team, where he played for a few games before being bumped up to varsity. By his second game, he was entrenched as the starter.
“A freshman playing varsity? That never happens,” said Chuck Swierski, Williamsville North’s varsity basketball coach. “He was successful immediately. He didn’t start that first game, but it was obvious that we needed him. With him playing center, we got to the sectional semifinals, and he was the reason why.”
Swierski echoed the sentiments of Teal, almost word for word.
“In high school, Robbie was so much bigger, so much stronger, so much faster than everybody else. He had a man’s body, but he was a kid. He was always giggling, always saying goofy stuff.”
Rob is quick to credit his athletic success to growing up in a competitive household. He took cues from his three older brothers, working hard and finding an extra gear to match their abilities.
“My older brothers were bigger and better than me, so I always had to
pick up my game because I was facing them all the time,” Rob reflected. “I saw how they were trying to improve and what it took for me to get on their level, so I was always imitating them, doing what they were doing, but at a younger age. I got a competitive advantage there.”
The Gronkowski home was a hotbed of athletic activity during their boyhood. Usually there was a game being played, whether it was basketball, pickup baseball, or football in the backyard. If it was too cold, or grew too dark, to play outside, it was off to the basement for a game of mini-stick hockey. Tiny sticks were the perfect size for young boys. As they aged, the kids continued playing—on their knees. Rob remembers these games fondly.
“Growing up in our house was pretty wild,” he admitted with a wide smile. “Being the fourth-youngest, I wanted to play with my older brothers, because Goose was four years younger than me. So I was always the one getting picked on and beat up, but it was a blast. We probably played for four hours every day. Three of the four were great, but at least one hour each day was spent fighting.”
Being a young brother meant Rob had to scratch and claw for any ounce of respect. Fights between Rob and Chris were frequent and particularly nasty. Recalling their battles, Chris explained the pecking order in the family.
“I beat up Rob every day,” Chris said. “The kid had some problems but he never stopped, so we had to go to the next level. All the brothers used to go to the next brother up for a challenge. Dan went to Gord. I went to Dan. So Rob went to me, but sometimes he’d leapfrog to Dan. When we were kids, Dan was huge. He was always the biggest kid in the room. So you see? Rob was crazy.”
The competitive spirit ran deep throughout the family, something noticed by friends and coaches over the years. Every brother wanted bragging rights over the next.
“I think their competitiveness came from the dinner table, to be honest,” laughed Mike Mammoliti, the varsity football coach at Williamsville North High School. “You sit around with those five guys, and it’s survival of the fittest. God bless their mom for being a good cook.”
Gordy declared that Rob was never a shy boy. He was “a goofball,” according to his father. Rob followed household rules, but occasionally needed a stern redirection to get back on track. He displayed a mischievous side and enjoyed pushing boundaries to see how much he could get away with.
“Rob is the class clown,” Diane said. “He has to be goofing around.”
“He took his mother to the limits all the time,” Gordy said. “He used to get a kick out of that. He’d test you to see how far he could take you. If he knew he could get under your skin, you were in trouble.”
Gordy cited two examples from Rob’s childhood that show how he reveled in pushing people’s buttons.
“One time he had on those stupid pants where his butt crack was showing and the waist hung down toward his knees. That pissed off his mother. She was in the kitchen with a big metal spoon and went whipping after him. Robbie took off running, but with the pants hanging down, the dummy fell flat on his face. She was hitting him in the ass with the spoon, and it was hysterical. I watched the whole thing and I couldn’t stop laughing.”
The other instance began during a family vacation. There is a themed restaurant in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, that distributes paper hats to its customers, and people write silly slogans there. Diane’s mother, the boys’ grandmother, was given a hat that read “Grandma just cut the cheese.” Silly. Not meant to be serious. But Rob took the joke and ran with it.
“Every time he’d see his grandma after that, he wouldn’t let up on her,” Gordy said. “She’d walk in a room and he’d groan and wave a hand in front of his face. He’d say, ‘Pee-eww! Grandma, did you cut the cheese again?’ He knew it bothered her, but he’d never let up.”
Fostered by the competitive atmosphere at home, Rob desired to be better than anyone else on the field or court. As with his brothers, workouts began in eighth grade. By the time he entered high school, his size and developing body immediately caught the eyes of coaches. He played football, basketball, and baseball, finding success in all three.
“In high school, I liked basketball and football about the same,” Rob noted. “But I knew I wanted to play football in college. That was where my area was. Basketball was fun, but in college, I would have been an undersized center. I felt I had the skills to bring it to the next level in football. That’s where I could develop more.”
Swierski, Rob’s high school basketball coach, disputes Rob’s belief that he would have struggled playing college hoops.
“I believe that if he wanted to, he could have been a Division One basketball player,” Swierski said. “He only played for four months of the year. He never played organized basketball in the off-season. Once or twice I got him to come out, but he wouldn’t touch a ball from the end of the season until he came back again the following November, and still he would absolutely dominate.”
Swierski recalled his team playing an early-season game in Niagara Falls against a regional powerhouse from Syracuse. The gym was packed with spectators.
“The other team had a seven-foot center who had signed to play college ball at Michigan,” he said. “Robbie caught a ball, turned on this kid, went up, and dunked. It was a one-step approach and he dunked with his opposite hand.”
Many local high school coaches sat in the bleachers watching the matchup. They were there to see a great game but also to scout Williamsville North. When Rob dunked, Swierski happened to look across the gym floor.
“I looked at one coach who pulled out his inhaler and gave himself a quick shot. It was almost like he was thinking, ‘How am I going to defend against this kid?’ As a coach, if you’re lucky you get the once-in-a-lifetime athlete. That was Robbie.”
Rob played junior varsity football as an eighth and ninth grader. During his freshman year, he was called up to the varsity team for the playoffs, where he shared the field with his brother Chris, then a junior.
“We brought him up to the varsity team when he was a sophomore,” Mammoliti said. “It was a no-brainer. He dominated from the get-go. Rob just had this fun streak about him. He loved playing. He loved being competitive.”
During his years playing in Williamsville, Rob put up big numbers as a receiver and defensive end. But entering his senior season, in the fall of 2006, several events converged that caused Rob to leave Western New York to finish high school at Woodland Hills, outside Pittsburgh.
“There were a variety of reasons,” Gordy said. “The biggest thing was that I was overseeing construction of a building in Pittsburgh. I had five stores in the area at the time. I lived in an apartment there so I could be part of everything. During his senior year, Rob wanted to live with me.”
The broken basketball backboard at a rival school became an issue when people asked Rob to autograph pieces of it, on the expectation that he would soon become a professional sports star. Some adults wanted him prosecuted for the backboard incident. A separate allegation that he was involved in a fight outside school went unproven.
“All sorts of stuff were happening,” Gordy explained. “People were gunning for Rob. It was stupid.”
Once Rob’s move became public, the issue went national when a reporter asked Gordy if he anticipated better-quality football in Pennsylvania.
“I told the reporter that Rob came to Pittsburgh with me because he wanted to spend his senior year making a choice about where to play college football, and it was convenient because I had a construction project going on there,” Gordy said. “But the reporter didn’t run with that part of the story. He ran with the part that Rob was coming down for better football. You can’t transfer into a new high school to do that. That was the big controversy.”
High school teams are not allowed to stack rosters with star players. Although that was not the intention, critics saw it differently. The debate raged: should a kid be allowed to transfer to a new high school if its sports are more competitive?
“We had to go to cou
rt,” Gordy said. “National talk shows picked up the story. Some asked why a kid shouldn’t be allowed to do this. But that wasn’t the reason he moved, it’s just that everyone knew that playing football was going to be Rob’s profession. If a kid transfers to a great music or academic school, no one says anything about someone wanting to better himself in his chosen profession.”
Still, comparisons were inevitable. Around Buffalo, Rob had played before a few hundred spectators at high school games. Near Pittsburgh, crowds sometimes swelled to eight or ten thousand. It was a bigger stage, a bigger audience, higher expectations.
Years later, Rob is frank about playing at Woodland Hills.
“It’s a whole different level in Pennsylvania,” he admitted. “The quality of play was better. We had eight guys go to Division One schools that year, and a lot more going to Division Two and Three schools, as did the other teams we played. It was definitely good competition. When I first got there, I struggled.”
Mammoliti, the football coach at Williamsville North, recalled Rob’s difficult decision to leave.
“It was probably the worst phone call I’ve had,” he said. “We talked it through. It was a shame, because, like anything else, you want the kid to finish with you and finish with his friends. I think part of him felt like he was letting us down. The reality is, there was no one else like him around. Hands down, he would have been All–Western New York. As a junior he caught fifty passes, and I could have thrown to him another twenty-five times, which I probably would have done as a senior.”
Growing Up Gronk: A Familys Story of Raising Champions Page 12
