I profiled Gronk's dad, Gordy, and went to their house. The five Gronk boys shared five king-sized beds in two massive rooms with extra-wide doors. Which bed was Rob's? Gordy shrugged: "Wherever they crashed that night, they crashed." It was like he raised giant cats.

Gordy Gronkowski reckoned his boys, at their consumptive peak, went through 20 gallons of milk a week.

In the Gronk backyard, there is a regulation baseball diamond, 325 feet down the lines. Tennis court. Pool. When the last boy moved out, Gordy replaced the old hot tub. "That hot tub could have told some stories," he said. He looked like a man who had survived war.

Gordy Gronkowski worked his ass off, owns a bunch of stores that sold fitness equipment. Raised five insane boys. Coached them all. Spent, like, $600 a week just on groceries. I asked him what it was like. He looked at me and said: "Total hell."

Anyway, whenever I feel a little overwhelmed because I have to write a couple of pages while one kid is telling me that dragonflies are 300 million years old and the other one wants to play Ping Pong, I think of Gordy. Enjoy the Super Bowl, friends.

I have no idea what's happening here—never underestimate the appeal of Random Gronk Facts, I guess—but if you want to read the whole story, it's here. I'm not at Esquire anymore, but we got to do some good, fun work. Gordy was a blast. https://www.esquire.com/sports/interviews/a29000/gronkowski-family-athletes-0614/