54 AMERICANWAY
NOVEMBER 1 2008
season-ending injury) andTonyRomo.
That is why the morning after the wel-
comeparty, bothKraft andJones are in the
hotel’smain lobby, standingbeneathagild-
ed, hand-painted high ceiling, complying
with autograph requests from two young
boys. Jones notices Snyder across the room
and shouts for him to sign the boys’ foot-
ball, saying: “Hey,Dan, comeoverhere and
add some value to thisball!”
IT’S noT ofTen THaT
this so-called Billionaire Boys
Club convenes in a place that
is older and richer than those
converging on it from corpo-
rate jets. But the turn-of-the-
century Breakers is a venerable
establishmentofgrandeurmore
in the traditionof theRockefell-
ers andVanderbilts than that of
theBill Bidwills andZygiWilfs
of thenfL.
The Breakers was built in
1896, making it slightly more
modern than oakland Raiders
managing general partner al
Davis. The oceanfront hotel is
home to florida’s first 18-hole
golf course, a tennis complex, five swim-
ming pools, four spas, 20 bungalows, and
10 cabanas equipped with wet bars, day-
beds, outdoor showers, andflat-screenTVs
aTLanTa faLConS oWneRarthurBlank can forget, for amoment,
about exchanging letters withhis former starting quarterbackMichael Vick,
who is in a federal prison and washing pots and pans for 12 cents an hour.
WashingtonRedskins ownerDaniel Snyder can be distracted from thinking
about the exact phrasing of the toast hewill give in a few evenings to honor
slain safetySeanTayloronwhatwouldhavebeenTaylor’s25thbirthday.new
england Patriots owner Robert Kraft can concentrate on something other
than the impassioned speech he will make in a final attempt to move past
what is knownasSpygate.
Those are things for billionaires to forget at a time like this while at the
Breakers, a ritzyhotel inPalmBeach, florida.awelcomeparty fornfL team
owners, their significant others, and their eventual heirs isbeingheldoutside
on this breezy evening. ahuge transparent sphere, floating in the swimming
pool, contains awomanwho is performingballet. To ensure she doesn’t drift
off toa corner, twoattendantsflank theoversizeball.
Kraft is tapped on his right shoulder by
Dallas Cowboys owner Jerry Jones, who
points and says, “I have one of those in the
pool at home.”
Both laugh like only the truly mega-
wealthy can. Jones is lying, of course. He
does not have a home; rather, he has an
estate onTurtle Creek inDallas, one of the
most expensiveneighborhoods in that area.
Perhaps nobody has come further,meta-
phorically speaking, to be at this function
thanKraft:Kraft’s childrenoverheard their
mother scolding him years before he pur-
chased the entire franchise for buying Pa-
triots season tickets that she believed the
family couldnot afford.
Jones had a similar, though probably
more humiliating, experience while travel-
ing once on family business shortly after
finishing college. Themanwho would one
day pay $140million for the league’s most
visible team (and the chance to focus the
spotlight on himself) was rendered mo-
mentarilyspeechlesswhen theagentbehind
the rental-car counter confiscatedhis credit
cardand cut it intouselesspieces.
Kraft andJones areamong themost suc-
cessfulmembersof theprofessional football
league,whichhas revenuesofmore than$8
billion. They have celebrated three Super
Bowl victories each and, in the aftermath,
have become enormously wealthy and as
instantly recognizable as their respective
quarterbacks, TomBrady (who in this sea-
son’s first game suffered what was likely a
— any of which can be rented for a mere
$500per day, as Pittsburgh Steelers owner
DanRooney can testify. The Sunday buffet
brunch is$90 (plus taxand service charge).
That’s hardly the price of a decent seat at
any stadium in the league.
even millionaire football coaches are
unaccustomed to such luxury. “I don’t be-
long in a place like this,” says Tampa Bay
Buccaneers coach Jon Gruden. Gruden,
mind you, has won a Super Bowl. Imagine
how a rookie who has yet to coach his first
gamemust feel. “Mywife and Iwere hang-
ing around the lobby here the other night,
andwe thoughtweweregoing togetkicked
out,” says first-year Baltimore Ravens head
coachJohnHarbaugh.
“Ihada$25cheeseburger theothernight
— got it on sale,” laughs Carolina Panthers
headcoachJohnfox. “This ishow
[
owners
]
live.Weget to stayhereaweek, and then it’s
back to real life.”
The hotel has such incredible standing
that itcanpeercondescendinglyateven this
collection of guests. That was made clear
four years ago, when one diminutive fran-
chise owner became so belligerent to hotel
staff that a Breakers executive approached
then-nfL commissioner Paul Tagliabue
with theultimatum: “Straighten this out or
I will personally remind him that he’s not
too rich, or too small, for us to throw him
out of here.”
TheBreakers realizes close to$2million
in revenueover the fourdays thenfLown-
