"Look! Over there! That was my first apartment when I moved here to play for the Broncos." My son could not have cared less about the "playing for the Broncos" part. "Were you on the top floor?" he asked. "Almost," I said, which was not really a lie. We drove on, along the same route I had driven every morning in the brand-new Denali I bought my first week on the practice squad, in September of 2003-in hindsight, a foolhardy purchase.
15 years ago, Rob Gronkowski arrived in the NFL seemingly straight out of central casting - almost the platonic ideal of a football player in the American psyche. He was all muscle and kinetic energy, a fearsome blocker and incredible receiver who was impossible to tackle, a selfless teammate on the field and the ultimate party animal off it. His touchdown celebrations - often a silly dance followed by a ferocious spiking of the football - summed up his spirit as well as anything.