PITTSBURGH -- Even the Cincinnati Bengals appreciate Vance McDonald's physicality.

"In the (Week 6) Cincinnati game, somebody came up to me and said, ‘I like you, 89,'" the Steelers' starting tight end said. "I turned around and there were so many players behind me that I couldn't tell who it was."

McDonald's bruising mentality in the open field gets more respect by the week. Acquired in a trade with San Francisco in 2017, McDonald is third among NFL tight ends with 213 yards after the catch, and he's done so on 20 catches. The top two, San Francisco's George Kittle and Kansas City's Travis Kelce, have a combined 70 catches.

McDonald throwing down, then stepping over, safety Chris Conte for a 75-yard touchdown on Monday Night Football in Week 3 earned a prominent place in NFL viral lore.

A week later, he carried a pile of Baltimore Ravens on his way to a 33-yard gain. Two weeks after that, he ran through Vontaze Burfict and two other Bengals down the sideline.

"It's unbelievable to watch him run through tackles," Steelers left tackle Al Villanueva said.

But before McDonald vacationed with Ben Roethlisberger in the offseason and approached cult status with Steelers fans, he was trying to discover his edge on the field as a scrawny kid from Winnie, Texas, who kept getting knocked down in his parents' living room.

McDonald credits his older brother by two years, Tyler, for teaching him how to overpower people. Tyler, now a civil engineer in Texas, would wrestle Vance all the time and never felt sympathy.

"Usually the bigger man wins, and I always lost," McDonald said. "It’s really kind of a mindset. I always went into it knowing he’d pin me. My dad is always rooting me on. But I kept fighting."

He played pickup football against his brother's friends, hoping toughness would find him. But that proved difficult for a 13-year-old with minimal leg strength, he said. By the end of his high school career, McDonald was a savvy pass-catcher and decent run blocker but was stuck on 200 pounds, a self-proclaimed "super late bloomer."

So in the six months before enrolling at Rice in 2009, McDonald downed protein shakes and punished weights. Those 50 additional pounds changed him forever.

"Literally all muscle -- it was crazy to have that kind of advantage," he said. "I finally filled out. Trying to rise up to the challenge and play at that level, I’m sure it helps the development. It was easy to take advantage of smaller nickel corners and safeties. You play in mismatches and realize it can be a regular thing. When they are 50 to 60 pounds lighter than you, it's really easy to dominate."

The NFL doesn't offer quite that disparity, but at 6-foot-4 and 267 pounds, McDonald usually has the open-field advantage he wants. McDonald embraces brutality in those moments. After the Conte hit, McDonald was asked about his first thought when squared up with the safety one-on-one. "Punish him," he said. "To just crush him."

He did. Conte didn't return to the game after that play and was placed on injured reserve with a knee injury.

The Steelers have plenty of big playmakers, but they savor the McDonald effect in real time.

"Any time plays like that happen, it invigorates the offense," said Villanueva about McDonald's physical splash plays. "He’s a quiet professional. He’s extremely intelligent with his assignments and he executes them with physicality.”

McDonald knows some teams might take his hitting personally, and he's prepared for counters. That's why his midweek practice sessions are more cerebral until he "flips the switch" on Sundays, and channels the little brother.

"Not trying to boast or anything, but obviously at some point they know if I’m being targeted, they know they have to bring this guy down," McDonald said. "So it’s going to elevate everyone's play to be more physical."

Including himself.