Nov. 7, 2016 As Navy prepared for its annual, highly-anticipated confrontation with Notre Dame during a spirited Tuesday practice, senior inside linebacker Daniel Gonzales looked out of place. There was Gonzales, Navy's defensive captain and by all accounts the Midshipmen's nastiest defender, out of uniform and perched on a scooter, absorbed in his favorite unit's fast-paced workout, while his right knee rested on the seat. The cast protecting his surgically-repaired right foot, which should be healed by next spring, summed up the story.
Gonzales appreciates the good wishes that have flowed his way for more than a month. In his mind, he has moved on from that fateful, second-quarter moment in Colorado Springs on October 1, when a seemingly ho-hum collision involving Air Force fullback Shayne Davern following a short gain resulted in a season and career-ending disaster for Gonzales.
"I try not to think about the negative aspects of this," Gonzales says. "I understand feeling sorry for yourself a little bit, but I'm more about what my next goal is. Number one is to get this [cast] off. My next goal after that is to be able to walk in six weeks, then to be able to put weight on my foot.
"I need to get my upper body stronger, need to get better with my school work, and I need to help my [football] brothers as much as I possibly can. As long as I'm competing in something, that's what keeps me sane, for the most part."
Gonzales, who before breaking his foot was enjoying another productive season (23 tackles, 10 solo) after two outstanding years as a starter, was, in the eyes of his teammates, a slam-dunk choice as a captain in 2016.
Besides his on-field production as a sophomore and junior - he produced a combined 151 tackles and, as a sophomore, averaged a school-record 44.6 return yards on three interceptions - Gonzales had earned the deep respect of the Mids with his no-nonsense approach to his craft and the ferocity he brought to the fray each week.
If you were looking for Navy highlight hits dating back to the start of the 2014 season, you would begin your search with Gonzales, known for a tendency to disregard his safety while inflicting crunching contact on others. Gonzales was no stranger to walking the line when it came to targeting rules. Once each in 2014 and 2015, he was ejected for violating safety rules by leading with his head.
"[Inside linebacker] is a dangerous spot to play," Gonzales says. "You know your head is going to ring and your neck and back are going to hurt every week. You have to get off of blocks and get into pass coverage or run to the ball."
The Gonzales you might meet in street clothes is someone very different, someone comparatively benign - a soft-spoken, engaging, humorous, 6-feet-2, 240-pound product of Tucson, Arizona, who can't do enough for his brothers and is eager to serve his country as a U.S. Marine Corps officer.
"I don't think [Gonzales] knows how much I've looked up to him, going back to when we were at NAPS [Navy's prep school] together," says senior Josiah Powell, who switched his number to 58 to honor Gonzales. "I've always viewed Daniel as an older brother," Powell adds. "He had faith in me when I didn't have it in myself. He helped me adapt and accept things [at Navy] when I wasn't sure I could make it here. He helped me to grow up. He's still as much a part of this team as he ever was."
"We miss his effort and his fire," junior inside linebacker Micah Thomas says of Gonzales. "Every day, you'd get the same Daniel - quiet, calm, and ready to go when it's time to hit. He's the first person to the ball. I play hard, he plays crazy. Sometimes I wish I could play like him. I was heartbroken when he went down, but I've never seen him down ever, not even before or after the surgery." Senior inside linebacker Mike Kelly's playing time has increasedsince Gonzales suffered a Lisfranc injury - which is a fracture or dislocation of the metatarsal bones in the middle of the foot, typically an injury resulting from heavy weight impacting the top of the foot. Kelly said that Gonzales' presence is felt consistently these days, from the locker room to the sideline. He still attends practice and position meetings and travels with the Mids. He offers coaching pointers, especially to younger players. And over his time at Navy, Gonzales established an attitude that prevails among the Mids.
"[Gonzales] doesn't say much or jump around screaming on the field, but he has set a standard with his silent work ethic," Kelly says. "It's a constant, everyday positivity with a spark of physicality.
"We run this play here, a linebacker A-gap [run] blitz, and it doesn't matter how Daniel is feeling. His knees and shoulders might be killing him. In football years, he's like an old guy," Kelly adds. "You can get blown up on that play [by a blocker]. Daniel will run it five times in a row and hit that gap harder than anybody every time. That fires everybody up."
Nemer Hassey, the principal and former football coach at Cienega High School in Vail, Arizona - where Gonzales was a three-time First Team All-State football standout and a four-time First Team All-State selection in baseball - fondly recalls the dichotomy that is Gonzales.
Hassey said the word "trust" embodies his memory of Gonzales.
On the field, Hassey recalls how the kid was, first and foremost, a technician. Gonzales took pride in positioning and making precise reads, and enjoyed administering hard contact with unusual explosion - whether at fullback or free safety, before he became a force at middle linebacker.
Off the field, Gonzales was the picture of order and responsibility, a reserved student who looked out for his friends, always played the peacemaker, never caused trouble.
"In 26 years of coaching, Daniel is one of the top five hitters I've ever had. When he gets between the lines, a switch goes off. Once he gets to the point [of attack], he just unloads," Hassey says.
"People really respected him and followed him. He was one of 10 seniors I had and he was the leader of the leaders," Hassey adds. "I never had to bring down the hammer as the disciplinarian, because Daniel did it for me. He made sure everybody came to work and nobody missed practice. When no one was looking, you knew Daniel was doing the right thing."
Army senior wide receiver Edgar Poe was one of those seniors at Cienega High. He and Gonzales originally met as wrestling competitors in middle school, when the much stronger Gonzales proved no match for the technically-superior Poe. As student-athletes at Cienega, they thrived on the football field and grew close as friends.
Poe and Gonzales took a recruiting visit together to West Point, while Navy pursued Gonzales aggressively. Gonzales says a key reason he came to Annapolis was simply that Navy's program was far more established as a winner. Navy has won its last 14 games against the rival Black Knights.
Poe was actually watching the Air Force game on television when Gonzales suffered the injury.
"When [Gonzales] didn't return for the rest of the game, I was hurt. When I found out [he was done for the year], it hurt even more," Poe recalls. "When you see someone that close to you go down, it feels like you're the one getting hurt."
As the play unfolded, nothing appeared to be unusual. Gonzales, after drifting outside briefly in anticipating an outside run, diagnosed the play correctly as a fullback dive then bolted toward the middle of the line. Initially, he appeared to achieve a stalemate with Davern. But as the play ends, Gonzales is stretched out on the field, grabbing his right leg.
As it turns out, Gonzales' right foot had stuck dangerously in the turf, where it was directly exposed and vulnerable to a devastating blow.
At that moment of impact, something had to give. Gonzales sensed the severe tingling in his foot was a very bad sign, even though teammates such as defensive end Amos Mason figured the captain who had survived dust-ups much worse over three seasons would pop up again. "Amos was yelling, 'You're good! You're good!' And I said, 'I can't feel my foot, man. I ain't good.' I knew something was wrong,'" recalls Gonzales, who got the official, terrible news two days later.
Healthy or not, Gonzales is nearing the end of his time at the place he knew he wanted to be. As a middle school kid, he let his parents, Michael and Jill, know the military is what intrigued him. A military school intrigued him even more. The idea of playing football at such a place presented the most enticing challenge.
"I was never in the military, and neither were either of my parents. But Daniel knew what he was going to do at a young age," Michael Gonzales says. "During the recruiting process, one of his first questions [to civilian schools] was do you have an ROTC program? If the answer was no, he would just say no thanks and hang up. At his senior prom, he wore a tuxedo that looked like a Navy uniform."
Gonzales' father also recalls the time when his son came home and announced one of his friends had gotten mad at him and had grabbed him by the neck and thrown Gonzales to the ground. When the father asked the son what the boy had done about that, Daniel said he had offered no physical response.
"I kind of jumped on him. I couldn't believe he would let that go," Michael Gonzales says. "Daniel said, 'What good would that do? I'm OK, and besides, we'll probably go back to being good friends tomorrow. So there I am, watching this kid teach me life lessons."
Gonzales recalls the valuable football lessons he's learned at Navy, where his plebe year was an enormous struggle. Plebe summer chopped 30 pounds off of his frame, leaving Gonzales at 205 for first preseason camp. Even though Gonzales was given his own locker, a rite of passage few plebes enjoy that early, things did not go well.
"I was given the opportunity to play when I first got there. I'm sure I looked terrible in camp," he says. "I didn't know what I was doing. I quickly went from locker 48 to locker 153."
Gonzales did not letter that year. But the Navy coaching staff had ignited a fire in him. Gonzales attacked his strength and conditioning and playbook responsibilities with a vengeance and vowed to make a serious move upward on the depth chart.
"I hated watching the games that year. It made me sick to my stomach. Every Saturday when we were away, I was lifting," recalls Gonzales, who would count out 10 reps by spelling out "I will start."
By the spring of his plebe year, Gonzales was looking the part of a real player. By the middle of his second preseason camp, he gave the Navy coaches little choice but to start the sophomore.
"Nobody in his company will say a bad word about Daniel. He gives everything for his brothers," Navy head coach Ken Niumatalolo says. "He encapsulates everything we're looking for in this culture. When you go out and recruit a Navy linebacker, you look for Daniel Gonzales."