—GLENN “GOOSE” GRONKOWSKI
IN ADDITION TO BEGINNING a workout program upon reaching eighth grade, one of the rites of passage for a Gronkowski boy was to be dubbed with a slang name by his father.
“When they were young, I had nicknames for all my boys,” Gordy reflected. “Gordie was G-money. When I coached him in baseball, any time the team needed a hit, he came through. Danny looked like a monkey because his face was round, so I called him Monkey Man. When he was younger, Chris was always getting into stuff, so I called him Critter Chris. Then when he started playing hockey, we called him Chrissy Fontaine, after the Sabres’ star Pat LaFontaine. Rob was always a slob, with pants hanging down, so instead of Robbie, he was Slobbie.”
None of those names stuck. But the youngest Gronkowski brother, Glenn, is rarely referred to by his given name. Everyone simply addresses him as Goose.
“I have no idea how Goose got his nickname,” Gordy admitted.
Ask Goose where he acquired the handle and his wide shoulders shrug, face lilting into a half grin.
“No one knows,” he said simply, emanating boredom in response to a question he has fielded too many times.
All agree that Glenn was named for Gordy’s older brother, a point of pride for the elder Glenn.
“They ran out of names, to be honest with you,” he chuckled. “They named the boys after other people we knew, and my name was left over. From what people are saying, Goose is the fastest of all of them. A few years ago in a high school game, he caught an eighty-yard flea-flicker play. He seemed pretty fast then. Right now everyone expects good things from him.”
Goose, born in 1993, is ten years younger than Gordie. At eighteen, he already stood six feet three inches and weighed 225. As he walked through his kitchen in sweatpants and a Buffalo Sabres T-shirt revealing burgeoning arms, his growing body showed evidence of weight training. But his frame is more developed than his facial features, which remained innocent, curious.
While the other boys are each two years apart, Goose is four years removed from Rob. When the eldest trained together with Demeris Johnson, Goose was too young to join, waiting until later to complete the program. Having watched his older brothers put in the hard work required for success, Goose witnessed firsthand the time and commitment it takes.
“Growing up, no one forced any of us into playing sports,” Goose said. “I chose to do this, and I want to succeed and get to where my brothers are. With me following in their steps, I think it’s easier. They’ve been there before so I can ask their advice. When I’m having a bad day and don’t want to do this anymore, I think about how my brothers went through the same thing, and look at them now. It’s a way for me to push myself.”
His skills were sharpened by competing against his older siblings.
“The boys didn’t care that he was younger,” their mother recalled. “They threw him around. They figured, you want to play with us? OK, but you have to keep up. Glenn could do more because of his brothers.”
In high school, Goose excelled in football, baseball, and in the classroom. After graduating in 2011 from Williamsville North, he was offered a scholarship to play H-back at Kansas State, where he began attending classes in January 2012.
Fall 2011 was a transitional time for the Gronkowskis. Gordie finished his baseball career, visited Western New York briefly, then moved to Cincinnati to help with the family business. Rob starred for the New England Patriots, racking up impressive numbers, and was joined by brother Dan, who started, then was cut and re-signed, cut again, and finally caught on with the Cleveland Browns. Chris, a fullback in Dallas the season before, found himself playing in Indianapolis, where the Colts struggled without quarterback Peyton Manning, winless in their first eight games. Chris’s season ended with a torn pectoral muscle. Only Goose remained at home, taking a part-time job stocking shelves at a grocery store until he left for college in January. Despite the fact that his boys were spread across the country, Gordy remained connected to them.
“It doesn’t seem like the boys are gone yet, because I travel to their games just about every weekend,” Gordy said. “Goose goes with me most of the time. But I think it’s going to be a reality check when he leaves for college in January and there’s no football and the rest of the guys aren’t in their hometown. Right now, he’s like my best friend. It’s going to be a rude awakening for me.”
Being the youngest has its advantages. With his older brothers gone, Goose was able to experience life as the only child living at home.
With the absence of his brothers, Goose spent quality time with his father. They watched Kansas State football games or blocked out an evening for their favorite TV show, Law and Order. They often went skiing and snowmobiling together.
“If I’m not home, we talk every day on the phone,” Gordy said. “He’ll call and say, did you watch this show? Did you see that highlight from the game?”
The weekend he left for Kansas State in January, Gordy had a head cold that kept his voice hoarse. Dan, talking to his father on the phone, thought perhaps Gordy was choked up.
“You sure it’s just a cold?” Dan teased.
During the spring of his senior year in high school, Goose focused on baseball, visiting two pro camps to measure his skills. In Ithaca, New York, he auditioned for the Los Angeles Dodgers, then traveled to Rochester to work out for the Minnesota Twins.
“They tested my hitting, arm strength, and speed,” Goose said. “The coaches run you through a quick batting practice, then have you do a sixty-yard dash, which is the distance between home and second base.”
He hoped to be drafted out of high school, wanting to give that sport a try before committing to football. But his name was never called.
“If I had gotten drafted for baseball, I would have gone and played somewhere for three or four months because I wasn’t going to be doing anything anyway,” Goose said. “If I did well, I was going to stick with that, maybe. I wanted to keep my options open. I thought I did sweet at those tryouts.”
Baseball teams may have been interested in Goose, but his full-ride scholarship for football at Kansas State probably worked against him. His upcoming gridiron career made teams reluctant to invest a draft pick, because odds were good that he would never play for them.
“I think I may have scared them away,” Gordy admitted. “He was going to school anyway, so I told teams not to waste our time unless they came in with a contract offer over four hundred thousand. They couldn’t give us peanut money. Once Goose didn’t get drafted, he lost interest in that and just decided to concentrate on football.”
Despite the influence of his oldest brother, football is in Goose’s blood. As the baby of the Gronkowski family, for years he trolled the sidelines of varsity football games, watching players, observing rituals of the sport, and dreaming that one day he would grow up and compete like his brothers. As an eight- and nine-year-old, he served as ball boy for the Williamsville North varsity team.
“Everybody loved playing around with him,” his father reflected. “Everybody knew who Goose was even when he was a little kid.”
Mike Mammoliti, the football coach at Williamsville North, remembered his first encounter with the youngest Gronkowski brother.
“He was the ball boy when Dan was playing,” Mammoliti said. “We had just kicked off in a night game, and all of a sudden I see this little kid sprint past me onto the field and grab the tee.”
Mammoliti turned to one of his assistants. “Who is that?” he asked.
“That’s the Goose.”
“Who’s the Goose?” Mammoliti wondered. “I called him Glenn up until then. But as he got older, he developed in his own way.”
As in most families, part of being a little kid meant that his older siblings picked on him. Gordie, Dan, and Chris were too far removed in age from Goose to worry about scrapping with him, but Rob was only four years older. That left Goose with a target on his back.
“The one who beat me up most was Rob,” he confessed
. “But I figured out a secret move I called the Treatment. I’d take my fists and stick them into the sides of his neck so it would sort of tickle and hurt at the same time. He’d start laughing and lose control.”
Like millions of Americans, he watches his brother compete against the world’s best athletes every weekend. A sliver of pride creeps into Goose’s voice, knowing that he got the better of Rob. Not many others do.
“That’s the only way he wouldn’t be able to beat me up, when I gave him the Treatment. It’s funny when I do it to him.”
“It puts your whole body numb,” Rob explained. “It’s hard to get out of. But it’s always cheap. He does it when I’m not looking. That’s the only reason it works.”
Once he attended high school, it was expected that Goose would shine on the field where his brothers had starred. He landed a spot on the varsity team as a sophomore receiver, where the team posted an 0-9 record. Yet he kept plugging away. By his senior season, the statistics were impressive: fifty-three receptions, 762 yards, and eleven touchdowns. He also played safety, compiling forty-three tackles, eight interceptions (one for a touchdown), and two fumble recoveries. And as an added bonus, he punted, with an average of 35.4 yards, and kicked extra points.
At Williamsville North, he broke career records in receptions, yards, and touchdowns. Considering his brothers’ accomplishments, this is no small feat.
“He was physically a little smaller than his brothers at that age,” Mammoliti, his high school coach, recalled. “But he got taller, more physical. He has superior hands and eyes. His ability to jump is the thing that really stands out. He never let the ball come to him. He always went up to the ball. We have shots of him where he’s head and shoulders above everyone, grabbing the ball at its highest point. The back-shoulder fade was a big play for us. When we threw it to him, we knew he would go up and get it every time.”
Gordy is proud of his son, because at first it did not appear that Goose was committed to training. When he reached eighth grade, he wavered. Some days he worked out; others he skipped. His father kept prodding, but his efforts were not making a difference.
“I was always on him,” Gordy recalled. “I’d say, you gonna lift today? Did you do it already? Do you even care? If you don’t, fine, but quit wasting my time.”
Gordy phoned his oldest son, playing minor-league baseball, and asked for assistance.
“I told Gordie I needed some help with his brother. I tried to motivate him but it just wasn’t working anymore. That’s when Gord put out a challenge. Thankfully, Goose responded, because I didn’t know what else to do.”
Despite the ten-year age difference, there is a special bond between Gordie and Goose.
“Gord was my favorite brother growing up,” Goose said. “He’s really good with kids. He always had time for me, and when we fought, it was always just joking around. He challenged me that whoever worked out more would get a hundred dollars. I had to do my best to keep up with him.”
The push from Gordie made a difference.
“Once his older brother challenged him, I saw his talents start to come out,” Gordy said. “He showed drive and focus. There was no stopping him. You’ve either got it or you don’t, and he’s got it now.”
Nearly thirty colleges sent recruitment letters to Goose asking him to consider playing football at their school, including several big-name and Ivy League schools. Despite his impressive high school stats, only the University at Buffalo and Kansas State offered scholarships.
“I would have liked to go to Boston College to be close to Rob,” he said. “A lot of MAC [Mid-American Conference] schools were looking at me, but I didn’t get any offers. The Ivy League schools don’t offer scholarships. So it was UB or Kansas State.”
The formula had worked for his brothers, so Goose decided to follow the family footsteps, traveling out of state. Gordy believes this was a wise move.
“I wanted my kids to go away,” he said. “I pushed for it. I went away to Syracuse, and it was the best learning experience, living on your own. You find out about yourself. If the boys went to UB, they would have been back at the house all the time. Not to say that’s a bad thing, but if you go away, you learn to grow up and live on your own and depend on yourself. You don’t need Mom and Dad anymore. You come out with new friends and you know how to act. You can survive in the real world instead of being coddled by your parents. My kids aren’t scared of anything. They’re not missing home. They know how easy it is to make new friends. I told Goose, if you want to go to UB, that’s fine. It would make things a hell of a lot easier on me. But I think you’d be better off down the road to move on.”
The key to a successful pattern of kids moving away often lies in the oldest child, and Gordie’s achievements in Jacksonville inspired the others.
“If Gordie had a bad time, things might have been different,” their father mused. “He had such a great experience when he went away. All the other boys lived off that experience. Danny went down to visit his brother and realized you can do all kinds of stuff. Mom and Dad aren’t here to yell at you. The boys needed to experiment on their own but stay away from drugs and do the right stuff. You can have fun and still do the right thing. Now that’s what Goose is going to do.”
“Goose is very intelligent,” his father reflected. “He’s more quiet than some of the others. He’ll shake your hand and look you in the eyes, but he doesn’t go out of his way. During the time between high school and Kansas State, I wanted him to work sales on the floor at G&G. He could have made decent money and learned how to sell, but he wasn’t ready to deal with people. He wasn’t there yet, and that’s fine too.”
Instead, Goose stocked shelves and spent time working out in his basement, following the rigorous training schedule sent to him by Kansas State’s football program. He hung out with friends, surfed the Net, and followed the exploits of his three NFL brothers. Without prompting, he could recite Rob’s up-to-date stats on any given week.
When they were kids, Gordy coached the other boys in baseball and hockey. As they grew older, he began to phase out of that. Work took up much of his time. But Goose was left out of the tradition.
“He had good grades in school,” Gordy said, “so I asked him what he wanted for a gift.”
“All I want is for you to coach my team,” Goose answered.
Gordy could not muster the heart to turn down such a personal request.
“As much as I wanted to get away from coaching, I never could,” he admitted. “I coached Goose in baseball. He’s a great player, always the best athlete, and a team leader. For a long time he led by performance. He wasn’t the type to huddle people up and say, ‘Let’s go.’ But near the end, when other kids moped around, he’d get in their face and tell them to grow up. And that’s just what he did. He needed a little jump start, but he’s grown up more and more.”
For now, Goose represents the future, the brimming potential of the Gronkowski family. There is another one coming . . . He may outshine them, or prove an exclamation point to their successes. Yet in 2012 there was a tangible sense that Goose’s story had yet to be written.
Gordie believes his littlest brother could become the best athlete of the five.
“He’s going to Kansas State, a Division One school, on a full scholarship, and then maybe going pro. I’ll probably have four brothers playing in the NFL. It’s the coolest feeling in the world.”
The brothers line up on a couch in their Amherst, New York, family room. From left, Rob, Dan, Goose, Gordie, Chris.
In Los Angeles for the ESPY Awards during summer 2012, hamming it up on the red carpet. From left, Gordy, Dan, Gordie, Rob, and Chris.
13
Get Gronked!
“Grinding no matter what the situation is. Now get hyped and get Gronked! Whoo!”
—ROB GRONKOWSKI
HAVING COACHED FOUR GRONKOWSKI brothers throughout their high school football careers—three of whom made it to the NFL and the fourth bound f
or a major college program—Mike Mammoliti has often been asked how he managed to keep their egos in check. The answer is simple.
“There were no egos,” he said. “They weren’t those kind of kids. Mom and Dad would never let them be that way. I never saw them walk around school and say, ‘Look at me.’ They never talked down to people. Never. They joked around with me, but never out of meanness. They were pretty humble kids.”
With Rob a featured performer in the Super Bowl, Mammoliti fielded calls from national outlets like the Boston Globe and the Washington Post. Reporters looked for some nugget to expose, some dark secret about Rob that might earn them a front-page scoop. Mammoliti had no such stories to share.
“All the Gronkowskis are really bright kids. They all had averages of ninety-two or above. Sometimes you look at them and think, wow! The big-dumb-jock stereotype just doesn’t hold true with these guys. Mom and Dad made sure of that. It’s a credit to them.”
On a weekend in early March, 2012, with the sun shining and temperatures climbing toward the sixties, the Gronkowski family home in Amherst was overrun with cars. Seven vehicles spread across the driveway, two SUVs splayed at angles near the garage door. License plates from four states were represented. Gordie, Chris, and Rob were all home for the weekend.
Inside, the spacious house had morphed to a grown-up man cave. Empty juice glasses littered the kitchen table. On the counter, a blender jar was open, a large plastic bin of protein powder uncapped. Chris stood nearby, pouring a mixed concoction into a mug. Early Sunday morning, the boys and their father walked the floor wearing T-shirts, socks, and sweatpants.
“There’s no question I’m not making it to work on time,” Gordie told no one in particular when his father stepped from the room. “I’m just putting that out there. I hope Pops doesn’t mind.”
Growing Up Gronk: A Familys Story of Raising Champions Page 15