I have known Jonathan Kraft since before the family bought the team. He always comes across as 'the smartest guy in the room' but when younger he was also the bull in a china shop.
He screwed up the proposed stadium in South Boston which this article touches on by deciding since he had the support of Governor Weld he did not need Mayor Menino or Boston City Council President Jimmy Kelly who had power because of his connection to the Bulger brothers. Jonathan needed to take them out to dinner at Amrheins and also invite Congressman Joe Moakley. Now would South Boston be better off today with a stadium complex or what is now called the Seaport District
We know the Patriots are going to fall hard in the not so distant future and then Foxborough will become a liability again. ( see 49ers, Cowboys and Redskins )
Jonathan is a visionary - Patriots.com was 10 years ahead of any other team and he convinced his father to move radio from WBZ-AM to WBCN-FM which was a risky move in 1995. When Gillette was built he asked cameramen like myself where should we place cameras and he listened. The setup today is the best in the NFL.
The Patriots of 25-30 years ago were the laughingstock of the NFL and for older fans like myself I can not fathom how 'The Sons of Billy Sullivan' have become the 'Center of the NFL Universe'.
Early 90's NBC had the AFC contract and the Pats network for home games consisted of 3 stations (Springfield, Portland and Bangor) as Boston and Providence were always blacked out and Hartford and Burlington, VT elected to go with the Jets. For years the NBC team that called Pats games were Jay Randolph and Beasley Reece.
It will never get that bad again.
Can Jonathan Kraft Keep the Patriots’ Reign Alive?
Jonathan first showed his willingness to protect—and try to please—his father when the Krafts attempted to build a football stadium in South Boston. Almost from the start, the campaign was a calamity. Southie residents revolted against the project, and as momentum turned against Robert, he made comments that came off as a threat to move the team out of state. House Speaker Tom Finneran called Robert a “whining multimillionaire” and the press lampooned him. As Robert weathered attacks, Jonathan came forward as the family’s public face—and defender. But despite his best efforts, Jonathan did little to smooth things over. In his public remarks, Jonathan came off as someone unwilling to acknowledge any responsibility for the fury directed at him and his father. “I don’t know if it’s anti-Semitism, or anti-Kraftism, or anti-footballism, but it’s really strange,” he told a Globe reporter who wrote that tears welled in his eyes as he spoke. “If they knew my father and what he has accomplished—I mean he is a great man.” At other times, Jonathan came off as entitled: “From our perspective,” he said, “if you’re going to spend hundreds of millions of dollars of your own money, you’d think they’d cut you a little slack.”
When reporters went to see Jonathan in December 1998, after the project had failed, they found a scene that revealed a lot about what drives him. In the basement of a downtown Boston office, the Krafts had spent more than $1 million building a full-scale model of a luxury box like the ones they had planned to sell in the South Boston stadium. The model had a bar, plush leather chairs, mahogany floors, a patio with stadium seats, and a detailed mural simulating a view of the field. Standing in this little monument to Robert’s doomed vision, Jonathan, then 34, was dejected. “I’m personally disappointed because I really wanted this to happen for my dad,” he said. “I feel like I failed and I didn’t get it done.”
He screwed up the proposed stadium in South Boston which this article touches on by deciding since he had the support of Governor Weld he did not need Mayor Menino or Boston City Council President Jimmy Kelly who had power because of his connection to the Bulger brothers. Jonathan needed to take them out to dinner at Amrheins and also invite Congressman Joe Moakley. Now would South Boston be better off today with a stadium complex or what is now called the Seaport District
We know the Patriots are going to fall hard in the not so distant future and then Foxborough will become a liability again. ( see 49ers, Cowboys and Redskins )
Jonathan is a visionary - Patriots.com was 10 years ahead of any other team and he convinced his father to move radio from WBZ-AM to WBCN-FM which was a risky move in 1995. When Gillette was built he asked cameramen like myself where should we place cameras and he listened. The setup today is the best in the NFL.
The Patriots of 25-30 years ago were the laughingstock of the NFL and for older fans like myself I can not fathom how 'The Sons of Billy Sullivan' have become the 'Center of the NFL Universe'.
Early 90's NBC had the AFC contract and the Pats network for home games consisted of 3 stations (Springfield, Portland and Bangor) as Boston and Providence were always blacked out and Hartford and Burlington, VT elected to go with the Jets. For years the NBC team that called Pats games were Jay Randolph and Beasley Reece.
It will never get that bad again.
Can Jonathan Kraft Keep the Patriots’ Reign Alive?
Jonathan first showed his willingness to protect—and try to please—his father when the Krafts attempted to build a football stadium in South Boston. Almost from the start, the campaign was a calamity. Southie residents revolted against the project, and as momentum turned against Robert, he made comments that came off as a threat to move the team out of state. House Speaker Tom Finneran called Robert a “whining multimillionaire” and the press lampooned him. As Robert weathered attacks, Jonathan came forward as the family’s public face—and defender. But despite his best efforts, Jonathan did little to smooth things over. In his public remarks, Jonathan came off as someone unwilling to acknowledge any responsibility for the fury directed at him and his father. “I don’t know if it’s anti-Semitism, or anti-Kraftism, or anti-footballism, but it’s really strange,” he told a Globe reporter who wrote that tears welled in his eyes as he spoke. “If they knew my father and what he has accomplished—I mean he is a great man.” At other times, Jonathan came off as entitled: “From our perspective,” he said, “if you’re going to spend hundreds of millions of dollars of your own money, you’d think they’d cut you a little slack.”
When reporters went to see Jonathan in December 1998, after the project had failed, they found a scene that revealed a lot about what drives him. In the basement of a downtown Boston office, the Krafts had spent more than $1 million building a full-scale model of a luxury box like the ones they had planned to sell in the South Boston stadium. The model had a bar, plush leather chairs, mahogany floors, a patio with stadium seats, and a detailed mural simulating a view of the field. Standing in this little monument to Robert’s doomed vision, Jonathan, then 34, was dejected. “I’m personally disappointed because I really wanted this to happen for my dad,” he said. “I feel like I failed and I didn’t get it done.”
