Clarence's Murphy takes a victory lap
- bbailey182
- 2 hours ago
- 7 min read
By Budd Bailey
Later this week, Mark Murphy will become the latest inductee into the Green Bay Packers Hall of Fame. In fact, the retired President and Chief Executive Officer of the team is in a class by himself, as he will be the only person so honored.
Then again, he’s been quite special for some time – all the way back to his time at Clarence Central High School in the early 1970s. I should know. We've been friends for almost 53 years.
Mark and I both moved into Clarence in 1970, but our paths didn’t cross for a couple of years. He was busy establishing a reputation as one of the great athletes in school history, while I was busy working for the school newspaper. I guess we were both preparing for the rest of our lives. But in the fall of 1972, fate dropped us into the same Advanced Biology class with seats next to each other.
We quickly discovered we had a lot in common. During the dull spots in lectures, Mark and I would make up silly lists about basketball that we’d pass back and forth when Miss Torba’s head was turned. I quickly discovered that Mark didn’t take too much too seriously – especially himself.
When it came to lab projects, Mark and I soon figured out that a little extra brainpower might be useful. Happily, class salutatorian Jane Hoppe was in the class and agreed to join us. At one point, the three of us had to leave the school to pick up some fertilized eggs for an experiment, and we needed permission to go during school hours. To do that, we had to pay a visit to the vice principal.
“What is this?” Mr. Szymanski said in a loud voice. “I’ve got our star athlete and a pretty cheerleader wanting to leave the school together?” Then he quieted a bit: “Oh, Budd’s going along too. There’ll be no problems with him around.” It’s tough to be pegged by an administrator as the chaperone at the age of 17. As for the experiment, it was a complete failure as none of the eggs turned into chickens. I’m sure that out of the three of us, Jane deserved zero percent of the blame for that.
I soon learned a lesson about life by hanging out with those two in and out of class during my senior year. Both Mark and Jane were gifted in many ways. They had every opportunity to be stuck up and look down on the rest of the class, but you’d never know it by their attitudes. Mark and Jane got along with just about everyone, and set a good example for everyone else. In the 52-plus years since then, Mark remained that way.
From then on, Mark and I never lived in the same city at the same time except for summer vacations during college years. But the bonds established during high school years often are sturdy. Mark went to Colgate University while I was at Syracuse, and we made a few trips each way to get together.
One time during those years, I joined Mark and a couple of high school classmates in a holiday pickup basketball trip to Erie Community College (North). Four guys we didn’t know were willing to play us, and off we went on a casual game. Our opponents eventually scored a few baskets in a row and started to talk a little trash. Mark knew how to respond. He nodded at our point guard, Joe, and headed for the basket. Joe threw the ball up well above the rim, where Mark caught it and dunked it. Hard. The silence from the other team was deafening. “Why doesn’t the rest of my life have these moments?” I wondered.
As you'd expect, Mark wasn't lonely at Colgate, since he could make friends easily. One of them was a smart, fun, attractive and opinionated young lady named Laurie. It took about 10 minutes of conversation with her for his friends to realize that if Mark were as smart as we thought he was, he'd keep her in his life. He did; they were married at Colgate after graduation.
Mark joined the Washington Redskins as an unsigned free agent in 1977 - George Allen memorably hid him out in a suburban Washington hotel until the draft was over - and beat the odds by making the team. He became a starter a couple of years later. As an assistant coach once said (more or less) about Mark’s cerebral approach to defense, “You can time him with a sundial, but he’s like Einstein out there.”
Mark became a busy man from there, and stayed busy for much of the rest of his working life. We kept in touch over the years, something that became easier when email and texting entered the picture. During Mark’s days in Washington, I’d stop in to see his parents in Clarence for an update on him. There I watched football games with Mark’s father, who was so happy to have company that he’d give me a fresh beer before the old one was done.
The paths set by Mark and me crossed in a spectacular way in 1984, when the Super Bowl was played in Tampa. Mark and the Redskins were defending their title by playing the Raiders, and I was covering the game for WEBR Radio in Buffalo. I sat down with him at the interview table a few days before the game and chatted. Then Mark took a question from another reporter. “What’s your impression of Raiders’ tight end Todd Christiansen?” Mark quickly answered, “I’m sorry, but I don’t do impressions of tight ends.” The reporter had started to scribble for a moment, and then realized he’d been had … and laughed. That’s the Mark I knew in high school, grown up. Then Mark gave him a good answer.
The Raiders won that game handily, and I went into the Washington locker room after the game and quickly found Mark. It struck me pretty quickly that this was a rather typical conversation between us – almost something out of gym class in high school - in a rather unique circumstance. Soon another reporter asked Mark about why he was so calm and rational in discussing the contest. “I’ve had since the end of the second quarter to get used the idea,” he said about losing the NFL’s biggest game.
And speaking of that setting, how many high school classes have a member play in a Super Bowl … and also have a member cover that same Super Bowl for the media? That has to be a rare if not history-making combination … in a really small way.
Mark moved on after retirement from playing football, picking up a law degree and working for the Justice Department. Eventually he became the Athletic Director at Colgate and at Northwestern. Then in 2008, Mark became the President/CEO of the Green Bay Packers. I sent him an email that read, “Congratulations on landing the second-coolest job in sports.” (I reserve the No. 1 spot for President of the Boston Red Sox, but I’m biased there.) I eventually bought one share of Packers' stock, if only to be Mark's boss.
I got to see Mark when the Bills played the Packers, even making the pilgrimage to Lambeau Field once. During that visit, I told the receptionist in the lobby after asking for Mark that I was his high school biology lab partner, and he’d better be treating her well or he’d hear about it from me. She laughed and said how much everyone with the Packers loved working with him. It’s a big job to run an NFL team, but Mark always was good about answering notes from old friends along the way.
I could tell from a distance that Mark still had that sense of fun that he possessed at age 17. A fan jokingly applied for the job of Defensive Coordinator with the Packers in 2024, with a resume of fantasy football achievements. The applicant added, with a wink, that working weekends might be a problem.
Mark wrote this note back: “Thanks so much for your cover letter and resume regarding our Defensive Coordinator position. While your Fantasy Football experience is impressive, I regret to inform you that we have decided to go in a different direction. I hear the Bears have an opening – you look to be a perfect fit for them.”
All good things must end sometime, and Mark’s stay with the team came to an end last month when he hit the Packers’ mandatory retirement age of 70. He leaves with a Super Bowl ring with the Packers to match the one he picked up in Washington, and with the team – the only nonprofit franchise in the NFL – in good financial shape.
It’s been an interesting life for Mark – downright unique in many ways. He’s the only person to have Super Bowl rings as a player and CEO. He’s the only person who was on different sides at times in football’s labor negotiations over the years.
Mark can do whatever he wants from here, and he’ll no doubt be good at it. Maybe he’ll write a book on his experiences. (Maybe he’ll need a co-author.) Maybe there’s still time for him to pick up that doctorate in biology. (Maybe he’ll need a tutor … but it won’t be me.)
But no matter what happens to Mark, he’s sure to have more success. And the rest of the Class of 1973 will be rooting for him … as usual. He is still raising the bar for the rest of us.
