TO SEE ROB Gronkowski leap into the air and gently pluck a football out of the sky, his gigantic arms and legs moving in a manner that feels improbably graceful for a man his size, is the closest thing there is in the NFL to spotting a unicorn.
He is, quite possibly, the rarest commodity in football: the balletic big man, sturdy and swift, large yet liquid in his movements. Gronk is unlike any offensive player the league has ever seen. He possesses the arms and torso of a lumberjack and the feet of goal-scoring midfielder.