From Richmond we pedal east to one of Boston’s several high-value “W’’ exurbs, to gawk at the “House That Ate Weston,’’ as Boston magazine memorably called Celtics co-owner Jim Pallotta’s egregious $22 million, 27,000-square-foot wannabe Hearst Castle. From there it’s just a little hop to Newton, where you can see the grandiose helipad in front of “modest billionaire,’’ New Balance chairman Jim Davis’s stately pleasure dome. I’m sorry - that’s not a helipad. It’s merely the largest inlaid brick and stone courtyard I’ve ever seen, outside of the Venetian Hotel in Las Vegas, that is.
Of course, we wouldn’t want to miss former Reebok chairman Paul Fireman’s goliath 25,000-square-foot “aesthetically offensive’’ - that’s how a local characterized it in a 1999 Globe story - Chestnut Hill mansion, which overlooks the Country Club.
Our ride ends in the gentle hills of Brookline, where yet another vulgarian Xanadu is rising. Henry, the principal owner of the Red Sox, is building what looks like a medium-size prep school, code-named “Summera House’’ in the public filings, on a 6.3-acre plot overlooking one of the city’s many scenic ponds.
Henry bought the property from Frank McCourt, the notorious, soon-to-be-ex owner of the Los Angeles Dodgers, who was once Henry’s rival for ownership of the Sox. McCourt’s loss is Boston’s gain. Hostage to his bitter divorce and business litigation, the Dodgers are floundering, while the Sox have thrived under Henry’s stewardship.
After paying $16 million for the property four years ago, Henry chose to raze McCourt’s 13,000-square-foot red brick Georgian Revival mansion, and an adjacent home. Both originally belonged to Charles Sprague Sargent, the first director of the Arnold Arboretum.
