Robert Kraft’s candidacy for the Pro Football Hall of Fame has become a sort of annual tradition throughout New England, not unlike Opening Day at Fenway Park and Marathon Monday.
And now, thanks to Don Van Natta Jr.’s exhaustively reported piece at ESPN, the entire world of football has been invited to ponder the mystery of why Kraft has been sitting by the phone all these years, waiting for that life-changing call from Canton, Ohio.
Does Kraft belong in the Hall of Fame?
Of course he does.
Let’s get this out of the way: He should have been inducted years ago. As I’ve written before, Kraft would possess Canton bona fides even if the six Super Bowl championships were removed from his resume. Kraft’s business acumen, combined with sturdy Boston roots, his status as a longtime Patriots season ticket holder and a lingering nostalgia for the old Boston Braves baseball team that moved to Milwaukee when he was just 11 years old, inspired him to buy the team lest it be whisked off to St. Louis by the previous owner, the late James Busch Orthwein. Remember, ground was broken for what would be the privately funded Gillette Stadium in the spring of 2000 before Bill Belichick ever coached a game for the Patriots, before Tom Brady threw his first NFL pass.
No need to revisit all that. A better question for today is why we’re even having this discussion. The easy answer is because of the Van Natta Jr. piece, which oozes with backroom lobbying, petty jealousies and a depth chart of owners who’ve already been enshrined. But we’re also talking about it because that’s precisely what the NFL wants, thanks to what I like to call the Owner Glorification Project, which is ceaseless and well-crafted.
The NFL’s marketing department is a franchise unto itself, and over the years it’s been a bigger winner than the Patriots, Cowboys and Steelers combined. Everything from the scouting combine to the schedule release has been turned into must-see TV. And whereas the draft was once just a bunch of guys locked away in a hotel function room, now it’s a glitzy prime-time event that doesn’t begin until after a famous performer has belted out the national anthem.
No, the NFL didn’t draw it up so that on a sunny September morning we’d be debating why Cowboys owner Jerry Jones is in the Hall of Fame and why Robert Kraft is not. And yet here we are.
The NFL is in the business of selling football. But like any successful retail establishment, its shelves are stocked with an array of products. It markets its players, its coaches … and, yes, absolutely, its owners. The telecasts of most games are barely underway when we get the obligatory shot of the owner’s box, often accompanied by a glowing testimonial from the play-by-play barker. It seems every touchdown includes a quick cutaway shot of the owner. When the clock is winding down and victory is assured, we get another cutaway shot.
This doesn’t happen in the other sports. Anyway, not to the degree it happens in the NFL. There are exceptions, of course. There’s Mark Cuban in the NBA, but, come on, those high-rollers have floor seats. You can’t not see them. The late George Steinbrenner, longtime owner of the Yankees, also comes to mind. His reckless trades, his obsession with being on the back page of the New York tabloids, his endless battles with manager Billy Martin transformed him into a media star. He hosted “Saturday Night Live.” He did a Miller Lite ad. (With Billy Martin, of course.) He was a parodied fixture on “Seinfeld.” God rest him, George was fun.
The NFL’s Owner Glorification Project has been going on for years. The first time it really hit me in the face, and with a frying pan, was Dec. 3, 2007, when the 11-0 Patriots played the Baltimore Ravens in an edition of “Monday Night Football” at M&T Bank Stadium. It looked like the 4-7 Ravens were going to pull off an upset, which would have ended New England’s bid for an undefeated season.
All seemed lost for the Patriots late in the fourth quarter, and yet they emerged with a 27-24 victory — partly because the Ravens unraveled but also because Brady and Belichick were in their prime. But as ESPN would have us believe, the Pats also had a secret weapon: Robert Kraft.
Let’s break down the tape, beginning with 2:22 remaining. Brady picked up 2 yards for a first down at the Baltimore 39, and that’s when we got a cutaway shot of Kraft in the owner’s box, looking rather splendid in a dark suit, yellow tie and his customary powder blue shirt with white collar.
We do not get a cutaway shot of Kraft following Brady’s incomplete pass to tight end Ben Watson leading into the two-minute warning, but it was right back to the owner’s box after Brady, under pressure, threw the ball away.
Brady then connected with Kevin Faulk for 9 yards, setting up a fourth-and-1 at the Baltimore 30. It’s here that Brady was stopped short of a first down, but it’s also here that the play was nullified after it was revealed that the Ravens, in the person of defensive coordinator Rex Ryan, called for a timeout before the ball was snapped. The Pats then got pushed back 5 yards on a false start, but Brady saved the day with a 12-yard run. Cutaway shot of Kraft!
The Pats picked up an additional 5 yards due to an illegal contact call on the Ravens’ Samari Rolle, and then it was Faulk up the middle for 5 yards to the Baltimore 13 with 1:06 remaining. Next, Brady threw a short pass that was batted into the air but fell incomplete. Under pressure in his next pass attempt, Brady threw a short pass to nobody. We then got our fourth cutaway shot of Kraft, with Mike Tirico telling viewers, “So Bob Kraft, the owner, who’s put together the Bill Belichick masterpiece plan, executed to perfection on the field by Brady, who’s having his toughest night of the season …”
So Kraft was part of the game now. He was doing the thinking, fighting for the fans. His fight was your fight.
On fourth-and-5 at the Baltimore 13 with 55 seconds remaining, Brady’s short pass to Watson was incomplete. But look, a holding call on the Ravens’ Jamaine Winborne! Gifted yet another first down, the Patriots took the lead on Brady’s 8-yard touchdown pass to Jabar Gaffney, followed by a quick cutaway to Kraft with his hands clasped together.
Tirico: “26-24, and Kraft is thinking, did he get inbounds with possession …”
Gaffney did get in-bounds with possession. Touchdown. Extra point by Stephen Gostkowski. Next thing you know, Robert Kraft is on the field for the game’s last seconds, as evidenced by cutaway shot No. 6. The Ravens mounted a last-ditch effort. Kyle Boller’s Hail Mary to Mark Clayton was complete at the 3-yard line but with no time on the clock. Patriots 27, Ravens 24. And six cutaway shots of the owner over the last 2 minutes, 22 seconds.
It’s fine that the NFL wants to promote its owners, from what they’ve done to build their teams to what they’ve contributed in the community. And Kraft, as much as anybody, has been a longtime philanthropic good-deed doer. No debate there.
But the NFL has puffed up its owners to a degree that it’s as if they’re on a par with the players and coaches. It’s enough to make one wonder if they all believe they should be in the Hall of Fame.
(Photo: Maddie Meyer / Getty Images)
