Gronk, Why So Genuine And Behaved? CUT IT OUT!

I don’t like this, Gronk. I don’t like it ONE BIT! Congrats on the comeback award, you know we love ya for it. But last night at the Espys.. What was THAT?

You were poised, calm, collected, well spoken? WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?

Gronk I… Gronk I don’t know how to say this… but, you didn’t make me wanna spike a single object around me… NOT ONE! That moment had NO bromanship WHAT. SO. EVER. Are you growin up, and becoming and adult on us, Gronk? Listen, if you’re NOT gonna pop mollys and twerk on ESPN’s Jemele Hill at Kentucky Derbys, party till your pants literally rip off, or generally ball overtly like the world is in the palm of your hands ready for spiking – we’re gonna need you to let us know RIGHT NOW! But, before you make any rash decisions, ROB, I want you to THINK.

Think of who you’re ROBbing here, ROB! Think of the Pats Nation you leave in mid-spike-limbo with our collective breaths held for the slam of the ground. Think ROB! Think of the blah blah blah. But Rob, that’s not enough. I want you to close your eyes and think, Rob. I want you to think of those shoulder pads barely phased by the chumps you just bulldozed past into the end-zone. KEEP YOUR EYES CLOSED, ROB! Think of the NOIZE YOU CAN’T IGNORE! Don’t worry, this isn’t a concussion test, you’re fine. Think of Foxborough in an absolute FRENZY, Rob! All those Dunkin Donut Coffee crazed, clam-chowder slurpin, relentless Patriots in the stands backed by the best owner in Football.

Then I want you to look at who’s running up from the line of scrimmage to meet you after that spike, Rob! You see those boyband locks bouncin your way on the shoulders of the greatest quarterback of all time, don’t you? DON’T YOU! That’s your teammate, Rob! That’s your QUARTERBACK, ROB! LOOK AT THOSE BIG BLUE EYES OF PURE AMERICA! Thats… That’s Tom. Do you see Tom, Rob? Rob see Tom run. Tom sees Rob run. Tom’s not lookin for a high-five, Rob. That’s not for champions. Tom’s WAY too pumped his boy just Gronked the world again. Tom’s comin your way for one reason and one reason only. Point to your chest, Rob. Now smack your forehead, Rob. That’s what Tom wants, Rob. He’s comin in for his signature head-bump that will get you closer to that concussion than any of those floozy linebackers could. Are you gonna leave him hangin, Rob? Are you gonna let that man down, to rest easy on his signature Ugg boots without earning that comfort from knocking one hardworking Bellichick-bred noggin against another?
That’s what I want you to think about, Rob. Dry your eyes, Rob. I think we both know how you’re gonna act from now on. You’re the Comeback Player of the Year. You can comeback from this sudden bout of unbecoming professionals