Get Off My Lawn: Bob Kraft Needs To Act His Age
This morning I saw the above video about my favorite NFL owner… who I love to hate: Bob Kraft, the latest Sneakerhead to emerge in 2016.
Now, while it is true that I appreciate everything he has done for the Patriots franchise, I also realize he is one of the luckiest owners around. For instance, I would call it dumb luck that he had the foresight to hire a Cleveland washout and draft a flabby, slow-footed 2nd string QB in the sixth round. I also happen to appreciate a man who publicly wears his heart on his sleeve for his dying wife and then miraculously finds love again just months later with a twenty something aspiring model. I just pray that if anything ever happens to her, the NFL allows him to slap another patch on the team’s uniform. That would be awfully sweet of RKK’s good friend Roger Goodell.
Listen, I can live with everything I mentioned above because I am not under the illusion that NFL owners are the smartest men in the room. But this video really got my goat. Is he actually serious about his “Air Force 1s”?
This is a 71-year-old man who should be wearing a pair of nice penny loafers around town. He also name drops Drake and says he planned on attending his concert. Kill me; now.
The only interaction Bob Kraft should ever have with Drake is when he cuts him a check for playing a show at Gillette Stadium or asking his agent for an autograph for his GREAT grandson.
I also love how he talks about the 100K and 250K he raised for the boys club. That childish “Sneaker Room” in his house probably cost 100K for his contractor to build while all of those hideous sneakers are probably worth upwards of 250K. There is nothing sadder than when a billionaire brags about some paltry sum of money they raise for a charity while he rolls around in gold doubloons like Scrooge McDuck. I realize that Kraft probably does give away a lot of money and probably spreads it around, but please just stop talking about it. It’s just not a good look.
I also realize that I come off as a bit of a curmudgeon here, but I liked Kraft much better when he was the drunk owner slurring through speeches and was known for the signature shirt and tie combo. What I definitely don’t like is the Sneakerhead version of Robert Kraft.
Someone needs to take this man to Florsheim for a nice pair of comfy loafers to wear on a date with Cybill Shepherd, one in which he takes her to see Jimmy Buffett so they can sing about Cheeseburgers and Juicy Fruit gum.
Now GET OFF MY LAWN.