NY Post – Robert Kraft, the billionaire owner of the New England Patriots and a pal of President Donald Trump, recently plunked down a cool $90,000 to spend four nights in the Hamptons. Kraft’s rental of choice was this home (shown above) at 47 Crescent Ave. in Water Mill.
The Farrell Building Co.-designed spread is on the market for $15.99 million. … It measures a luxurious 8,600 square feet, with 10 bedrooms, 12 bathrooms, a 50-foot pool, a two-story pool house and a sunken tennis court — all bordering a 34-acre reserve by Mecox Bay.
Inside, the home features walls of glass, and a dramatic double-height foyer with white oak floors.
There’s also a chef’s kitchen with a butler’s pantry, a spacious great room, and a formal living room with coffered ceilings and fireplaces. Glass doors lead to the outdoor entertaining spaces.
The property additionally boasts lower-level suites for staff or guests, along with a gym, a home theater with stadium seating, a wine cellar and lots of storage.
God, you have to respect this choice by Mr. Kraft. The king just doing king things.
This is exactly the kind of thing that drives the progressives and the economic socialists insane. The rich getting richer, the elites not paying their fair share, the upper one percent of the One Percenters owning all the wealth, blah, blah, blah. But they’ll get no care and comfort from me. That way lies madness.
Of course I’d love to blow 90 grand on a weekend in the Hamptons instead of $1,500 for a week at a cottage on Lake Champlain, which I’m about to do. Sure I wish my rental had 12 bathrooms, a 50-foot pool, coffered ceilings and a home theater instead of wicker furniture, Dollar Store pots and pans and maybe basic cable. But I no more resent a self-made billionaire’s luxury weekend than I do Rob Gronkowski having size, speed and a build like something from a Greek statue.
Mr. Kraft has a talent few men do. A vision. He took chances that paid off. He bought the worst stadium ever built, leveraged it to keep the worst franchise in pro sports in his home town, and built an empire. He looked out across a vast wasteland and envisioned stores, hotels and restaurants and made it reality. Like that other great businessman, Brad Wesley in Road House, “I brought the mall here. I got the 7-Eleven. I got the Fotomat here. Christ, JC Penney is coming here because of me.”
So sure, he just spent more on four days of vacation than the average family makes. And the total vacation outlay for my entire family would buy me about five and a half minutes of his Hamptons trip. But you have to admire the business acumen it took to be able to do it. I write blogs and do stand up. He builds dynasties. And if he stayed in a place with a single-story pool house, a unsunken tennis court, opaque walls, a single-height foyer and no wine cellar, I’d take it as a personal affront. Again to quote Brad Wesley, “I have a faith in that destiny. It tells me to gather unto me what is mine.”
Any place he rents should be unequivocally the sweetest. And I’m not just saying that so my good friend will invite me on the next trip.