Back in 1946, when other 6-year-olds in Laureldale, Pennsylvania were probably playing with kids their age, one of them was following his 9-year-old brother, Richard, to their elementary school to play baseball with his friends. As someone to always seek and practice advise, he learnt from his brother, it was never about “He can’t play. He’s too young,” it was about “He can catch. He can run the bases. He knows how to do that.” And that’s where the sports journey started for Tom Brown, who passed away at 84-years-old last Wednesday, April 23 in Salisbury, Maryland. From Super Bowl champion to championing the love of the game, Tom left the Eastern Shore better. But long before he did that, Tom lived by what his Green Bay Packers and then Washington Redskins HC, Vince Lombardi, told him every year.

“It wasn’t about football, it was about the game of life. When your football playing days are over, he said, you’re going to have the rest of your life, find something that you do well, find your niche. And wow, I found my niche working with young kids, and then he said make a contribution in the community. I think he would be proud of me for what I’ve done for 40 years.” The first time he heard this advice, Tom went home and checked in the dictionary what “Niche” even meant, but over the years, he has kept the message at the back of his mind. And that’s how his rookie league came to life.

Around Salisbury, Tom was known as the one to redefine culture and youth sports in the town. As his son, Jimmy, now recalls, “There’s a gentleman who played in the first two Super Bowls. He didn’t need anything else, he just wanted to grow the game and make these kids enjoy it more than when they started.” Jimmy was talking about Tom Brown’s Rookie League that the NFL legend, after his retirement from professional sports in 1969, started to help other kids realize what their niche was. It was a league where traditional rules were bent to not to take away a memorable moment on a technicality and parents were not allowed to intercept.

Jimmy recalled once how Tom made a little league umpire out of an uncredentialed 6-year-old with no gear who wanted to make calls. But of course, he had to give a test. “My dad says this, he says, ‘okay, can you say safe?’ And the little kid says, ‘safe!’ And then he says ‘can you say out?’ And the little kid goes ‘out!’ And he says, ‘okay, you’re hired!'” But it all happened after he had been a two-sport player for most of his life.

Before he was making game-saving picks for the Lombardi-era Packers, Brown was a big-league dreamer with a bat in his hands. He cracked the Washington Senators’ roster at just 22. He hit .312 — in Spring training as a rookie himself trying to square up major league pitching. But once the regular season hit, Brown’s bat cooled off. After bouncing between the Senators and the minors, Brown knew something had to give.

As the first player to homer in a major league game and play on a Super Bowl champion, Brown has many fond memories, but he remembers one call more specifically that changed his life for the better. “Lucky enough to play in the Major Leagues for about one hundred and some days. That was a great experience. But that December (’63), (Vince) Lombardi called me up and said, ‘Brown.’ I said, ‘Yes, Coach.’ He said, ‘We’re still interested in you and playing football, but you can’t sit out another year.'”

The Packers picked him in the second round of the 1963 NFL draft. However, after visiting the 1962 Championship Game for the Packers, he concluded, “These guys are big. I’m going to play baseball.” But as was destiny laid out, even though he did leave for the Minor League and then the Major, he returned to football.

By mid-1964, Brown signed with the Packers. After trying out for a flanker and a cornerback, he was finally positioned as the safety. Once he settled in, the man didn’t just play; he owned the backfield. Brown started almost every game for Green Bay from 1965 through 1968, grabbing a firm seat during their NFL championship three-peat and two Super Bowl wins. But the real moment Packers fans will always shout from the rooftops was Brown’s clutch interception.

In the dying seconds of the 1966 NFL title game against Dallas, sealing a 34-27 win. Not bad for a guy who once thought he’d be a “utility guy” in baseball. In 1969, Brown was traded to Washington for a fifth-round pick, reuniting with Lombardi one last time. Unfortunately, that chapter didn’t last long — just one more game before Brown decided to hang ’em up for good.

“I loved baseball. It was my favorite sport,” he said during a 2009 sit-down, explaining “Football I just used, I guess, to get an education in college. I never really liked football that much.” But now we know, his life had other plans. And luckily for the Packers, so did Lombardi.

Today, the football world remembers Tom Brown as more than just a “player.” He was a gamer. A guy who showed up, punched the clock, and changed outcomes when it mattered most. Baseball may have been his first love, but Green Bay became his lasting legacy. And while the cause of his death is not disclosed yet, with what he left behind, there were people who will always remember him.

Tom Brown leaves Green Bay in mourning

Many surely remember Tom today for his work in the Lombardi-Era Packers, but many would also cherish his attitude towards the growing stars. “May he rest in peace. Go Pack Go.” One Packers fan signed off their tribute to Tom Brown, the two-sport marvel who forever left a cleat mark in Green Bay’s history books. You can almost hear the echoes from Lambeau as fans sit with the news. A bittersweet reminder that legends, even the ones built like brick walls, aren’t immune to time. After all, Brown wasn’t just a name on a roster.

Another fan listed it all out like a proud stat sheet: “#RIP Tom Brown 1940-2025 #MLB #NFL #Senators #Packers #Redskins 3-Time NFL champion 1965, 1966, and 1967 2-time Super Bowl Champion I and II.”

Baseball or football? At first, football felt too brutal. Yankee Stadium’s frozen turf during the 1962 NFL Championship game had Brown thinking he’d rather stick with a bat than get flattened by a linebacker. Only a call from Vince Lombardi himself — with that dry humor and a nudge about Brown’s batting average — pulled him back to the gridiron. And that’s why, a fan rightly wrote: “Rip legend.”

Again, legend really is the right word here. Tom Brown didn’t just cash his checks and move on. After winning with the Packers — including Super Bowl I and II — he took Vince Lombardi’s words to heart: “Find something you’re good at and make a contribution to the community.” Brown lived it.

With the Tom Brown Rookie League on Maryland’s Eastern Shore, a place where kids could play pickup baseball without parents yelling from the sidelines, no over-coaching, and no pressure amidst the pure, sandlot fun, he indeed made himself an immortal. That’s how a fan would remember him, “Frozen Tundra legends are immortal.”

Brown was a character of it. From having President John F. Kennedy joke about putting him in the Senators’ starting lineup, to winning titles with the Packers when the NFL was still shaping its identity, he became part of the culture. He was Green Bay’s reminder that greatness isn’t loud. Sometimes it’s steady, humble, and is hidden in the stories from the past.

And as Brown once said, finding out he was inducted into the Maryland State Athletic Hall of Fame — after thinking he wasn’t eligible — was the cherry on top: “When you think of all the people who lived in Maryland or born in Maryland, it’s a great honor.” Now, the Green Bay and the football world take a collective knee in your honor. Rest easy, #40. The Frozen Tundra just got another guardian.