<table> </table> The thing that struck me about Tony Gonzalez is that every time I saw him catch a pass &#8212; every single time, no matter if it was during practice, on the sideline during a game, or just goofing around afterward &#8212; he always tucked the ball away.</p><p>Always.</p><p>I saw him catch probably 5,000 passes through the years. He tucked every one of them away.</p><p>And that, I think, is the legacy Tony Gonzalez leaves behind in Kansas City. In so many ways, Thursday&#8217;s trade of Gonzalez to Atlanta for a second-round draft choice was inevitable. Gonzalez had made it clear that he did not want to end his career dying in a rebuilding project in Kansas City. And the new Chiefs regime led by general manager Scott Pioli has made it clear, in so many ways, that it is breaking away from the past. The trade had to happen. And it did.</p><p>&#8220;We believe this is in the best short-term and long-term interest of the Chiefs,&#8221; Pioli said.</p><p>When asked to explain why this is good in the short term &#8212; after all, the Chiefs traded for a 2010 draft pick &#8212; Pioli gave a roundabout answer about how not all is as it seems, and next year&#8217;s draft picks might be traded for this year&#8217;s draft picks, and you have to look at the complete mosaic and so on. Translation: Pioli and the Chiefs feel for numerous reasons that it is time to move on without Tony Gonzalez.</p><p>And Gonzalez feels the same way. He wanted out for more than a year. Let&#8217;s be honest: There isn&#8217;t much sentimentality in pro football. Jerry Rice finished his career with the Seattle Seahawks. John Unitas threw his last pass for the San Diego Chargers. Emmitt Smith gained his last yards for the Arizona Cardinals. Reggie White made his last sack for the Carolina Panthers.</p><p>And so Gonzalez, the greatest pass-catching tight end in football history, will probably catch his last pass for the Atlanta Falcons. No, it doesn&#8217;t seem right. But football rarely has proper endings.</p><p>Anyway, Gonzalez was in Kansas City for a long time, longer than anyone could expect. He lasted with the Chiefs 12 years and 916 receptions and almost 11,000 yards and 76 touchdowns &#8212; all NFL records for tight ends.</p><p>And Kansas City got to really know one of the unique players in NFL history. Gonzalez is a glamour tight end. He invented that position. Tight end had been for gritty men too tough to be pompous-and-fabulous wide receivers, but also too mobile to be offensive linemen. Tight ends were bloodied and muddied and fierce. Mike Ditka was a tight end. Kellen Winslow was a tight end. Dave Casper was a tight end. Close your eyes, imagine a tight end, and it might be Ozzie Newsome sloshing through the mud in Cleveland or John Mackey running through defenders in Baltimore or Todd Christensen catching short pass after short pass.</p><p>Well, Gonzalez was on the cover of magazines. Gonzalez hung around with Oprah and the Naked Chef. Gonzalez did television commercials and was host to shows and dunked footballs over crossbars. He had no interest in being anonymous. He wanted to win, sure, but he was always brutally honest about it: That was not enough for him. No, he wanted the team to win <em>and</em> he wanted to play a big part in the victory. He wanted center stage. He wanted everything.</p><p>He also worked harder than anyone to get everything. Gonzalez ate right. He trained right. He practiced like a madman every day; after practice, he would catch a hundred extra passes, two hundred extra passes, every single day, even after he had become the best pass-catching tight end ever. He has always said that working hard <em>during</em> practice was nothing. Everybody does that. No, what separates good and great happens after practice. He lived those words.