COMMENTARY
Picture this: It’s April 23, 2010, the self-declared single greatest night of Rob Gronkowski’s life (to that point), and the second night of that spring’s NFL Draft. After missing his junior season at Arizona with a back injury, there’s finally a team that sees enough reward through the obvious risk, and decides to make him part of their mix.
The commissioner calls his name as the 42nd pick, and after posing for a few pictures he reconvenes the party on the side of the stage for some Gronk family shenanigans. As all the goofiness crescendos, he’s bobbing his head inside a proudly worn silver helmet adorned with the logo of his new squad.