LIFE ON SIDELINES FITS FOR PACKERS' THOMPSON
General manager keeps a low profile in a high-profile job
By Tony Walter / greenbaypressgazette.com
His nicknames in high school were Teddy-Bear and Clarence. He doesn't think he's an introvert, but says he's probably the oddball in his family. He says he was relatively close to getting married twice, but says it was probably his fault it didn't work out. He watches "The Simpsons," votes conservatively, reads the Bible, drives a Cadillac Escalade, likes country and western music and is inclined to "step outside and yell at the darkness from time to time." Ted Thompson, at all other times, tries to make the Green Bay Packers a better football team. But the Ted Thompson outside his Packers persona has remained in the shadows during his first 18 months back in Green Bay. In an exclusive interview to talk about things nonfootball, Thompson recently discussed his past, his interests and his personality. "I think I'm rather outgoing in some respects," said the 53-year-old Thompson, whose title is executive vice president, general manager and director of football operations. "At the same time, I don't run to every microphone that I can find to do an interview. I don't push myself out in the press, but I'm not like Howard Hughes or anything like that."
"He's bright, trustworthy and he's always there for you," said best friend Mike Reinfeldt, vice president for football operations for the Seattle Seahawks, who worked in the Packers' front office from 1991 to 1998. "Great qualities for a friend."
East Texas native
Thompson was born and raised in Atlanta, Texas, a ranching and timber community about 170 miles east of Dallas. The third of four children of Elta and Jimmy Thompson (who still live there), he was an athlete, with football emerging as his favorite sport. "Most people had their sports heroes," said Jim Thompson, Ted's younger brother by four years, an attorney in Atlanta. "Mine was right in my house." But they were, after all, brothers. "Once, when I was 5 or 6, we couldn't find any baseballs so we were playing with a croquet ball," Jim Thompson said. "Ted hit me in the back of the head, and I still bear a knot there. I don't think I've been adequately compensated to this day."
Ted Thompson said his parents were strict, his father a believer in corporal punishment. He held summer jobs in a steel factory, in a state park and in Atlanta neighborhoods cutting lawns. "I didn't particularly like it," he said of the lawn jobs. "It was OK, but then some little old lady would call on Saturday morning at 8 o'clock when I was planning to go play golf … and my Mom would say forget about the golf."
Bill Dupree was president of the Atlanta High School senior class of 1971 and a football teammate of Thompson.
"We had a good team our senior year," said Dupree, who also still lives in Atlanta. "Ted was our offense. He was the fullback and it was Thompson left, Thompson right, Thompson up the middle. But he didn't like the limelight and was always humble."
Classmate Debbie Vaughan Hensen recalled that Thompson was "always a very nice guy. He and one of my best friends dated, and she was crowned Miss Atlanta in 1971. His brother, Frank, was a big cut-up, but I remember Ted as quieter."
One of Hensen's better memories of Thompson was in 1981 when he played guitar and sang at their 10-year high school reunion.
Max Sandlin Jr., who grew up down the street from the Thompsons and later served four terms in the U.S. House of Representatives (1997-2005), said there wasn't a finer all-around athlete in East Texas in the early 1970s than Thompson.
"Our moms would feed us and then push us out the door and lock the door," said Sandlin, now a lobbyist in Washington, D.C. "We'd ride our bicycles and play sports. You could get your driver's license at age 14 in Texas and Ted had a '58 Chevy and later had this green Ford Maverick, one of the ugliest cars Ford ever made."
Sandlin and Thompson played basketball together for the Atlanta High School Rabbits, a team Sandlin said was "vertically challenged. But we owned the lane and whenever anyone would come down the lane, Ted or I would knock them to the floor."
Oiler teammates
Seattle's Reinfeldt and Thompson played together for the Houston Oilers for several years.
"When I went to Houston from the (Oakland) Raiders, it was the middle of the season," said Reinfeldt. "Bum Phillips (Oilers coach) came up to me and called Ted over and said, 'Help this guy get situated.' That tells you something about what they thought of Ted."
Reinfeldt said he and Thompson played in an NFL Players Association golf tournament in Florida in the late 1970s when Thompson won a closest-to-the-hole competition. The prize was a year's use of an Excaliber. "We had to drive it back to Texas and I had the worst virus," Reinfeldt said. "So he drove it all the way himself."
Thompson thought about being a coach when he finished playing football, but nothing worked out. He tried his hand as a stockbroker but ended that voluntarily, saying, "I'm not going to call people I don't know and sell them something they don't need. So I managed my own accounts, I played golf, did some charity things. I pretty much enjoyed life for six or seven years."
Thompson has never married. "Everyone else (in the family) is normal," he said. "I was the only oddball in the bunch. They all got married and have children. I think my parents were always a bit disappointed that I didn't get married and I didn't have grandchildren."
But Thompson said his football lifestyle wasn't the best environment for a marriage.
"I had what I thought were two chances with what I think would have been good matches, but I probably messed them both up," he said. "I would have liked to have been married and had children."
Reinfeldt said Thompson "isn't a quick study. It takes time to get to know him. When we went to Seattle, the equipment men and trainers reported to him and they didn't know what to think of him. But when he left, they said they really missed him."
Having a relatively low profile in Green Bay, despite being in a high-profile job, seems to suit Thompson.
"I think this is a marvelous place," he said. "People recognize me but they don't much bother me. You go to a restaurant and you see people look twice. People want the team to do well, so they want you to succeed, so they're always offering encouragement, sometimes advice. And sometimes I'm the face of the organization."
General manager keeps a low profile in a high-profile job
By Tony Walter / greenbaypressgazette.com
His nicknames in high school were Teddy-Bear and Clarence. He doesn't think he's an introvert, but says he's probably the oddball in his family. He says he was relatively close to getting married twice, but says it was probably his fault it didn't work out. He watches "The Simpsons," votes conservatively, reads the Bible, drives a Cadillac Escalade, likes country and western music and is inclined to "step outside and yell at the darkness from time to time." Ted Thompson, at all other times, tries to make the Green Bay Packers a better football team. But the Ted Thompson outside his Packers persona has remained in the shadows during his first 18 months back in Green Bay. In an exclusive interview to talk about things nonfootball, Thompson recently discussed his past, his interests and his personality. "I think I'm rather outgoing in some respects," said the 53-year-old Thompson, whose title is executive vice president, general manager and director of football operations. "At the same time, I don't run to every microphone that I can find to do an interview. I don't push myself out in the press, but I'm not like Howard Hughes or anything like that."
"He's bright, trustworthy and he's always there for you," said best friend Mike Reinfeldt, vice president for football operations for the Seattle Seahawks, who worked in the Packers' front office from 1991 to 1998. "Great qualities for a friend."
East Texas native
Thompson was born and raised in Atlanta, Texas, a ranching and timber community about 170 miles east of Dallas. The third of four children of Elta and Jimmy Thompson (who still live there), he was an athlete, with football emerging as his favorite sport. "Most people had their sports heroes," said Jim Thompson, Ted's younger brother by four years, an attorney in Atlanta. "Mine was right in my house." But they were, after all, brothers. "Once, when I was 5 or 6, we couldn't find any baseballs so we were playing with a croquet ball," Jim Thompson said. "Ted hit me in the back of the head, and I still bear a knot there. I don't think I've been adequately compensated to this day."
Ted Thompson said his parents were strict, his father a believer in corporal punishment. He held summer jobs in a steel factory, in a state park and in Atlanta neighborhoods cutting lawns. "I didn't particularly like it," he said of the lawn jobs. "It was OK, but then some little old lady would call on Saturday morning at 8 o'clock when I was planning to go play golf … and my Mom would say forget about the golf."
Bill Dupree was president of the Atlanta High School senior class of 1971 and a football teammate of Thompson.
"We had a good team our senior year," said Dupree, who also still lives in Atlanta. "Ted was our offense. He was the fullback and it was Thompson left, Thompson right, Thompson up the middle. But he didn't like the limelight and was always humble."
Classmate Debbie Vaughan Hensen recalled that Thompson was "always a very nice guy. He and one of my best friends dated, and she was crowned Miss Atlanta in 1971. His brother, Frank, was a big cut-up, but I remember Ted as quieter."
One of Hensen's better memories of Thompson was in 1981 when he played guitar and sang at their 10-year high school reunion.
Max Sandlin Jr., who grew up down the street from the Thompsons and later served four terms in the U.S. House of Representatives (1997-2005), said there wasn't a finer all-around athlete in East Texas in the early 1970s than Thompson.
"Our moms would feed us and then push us out the door and lock the door," said Sandlin, now a lobbyist in Washington, D.C. "We'd ride our bicycles and play sports. You could get your driver's license at age 14 in Texas and Ted had a '58 Chevy and later had this green Ford Maverick, one of the ugliest cars Ford ever made."
Sandlin and Thompson played basketball together for the Atlanta High School Rabbits, a team Sandlin said was "vertically challenged. But we owned the lane and whenever anyone would come down the lane, Ted or I would knock them to the floor."
Oiler teammates
Seattle's Reinfeldt and Thompson played together for the Houston Oilers for several years.
"When I went to Houston from the (Oakland) Raiders, it was the middle of the season," said Reinfeldt. "Bum Phillips (Oilers coach) came up to me and called Ted over and said, 'Help this guy get situated.' That tells you something about what they thought of Ted."
Reinfeldt said he and Thompson played in an NFL Players Association golf tournament in Florida in the late 1970s when Thompson won a closest-to-the-hole competition. The prize was a year's use of an Excaliber. "We had to drive it back to Texas and I had the worst virus," Reinfeldt said. "So he drove it all the way himself."
Thompson thought about being a coach when he finished playing football, but nothing worked out. He tried his hand as a stockbroker but ended that voluntarily, saying, "I'm not going to call people I don't know and sell them something they don't need. So I managed my own accounts, I played golf, did some charity things. I pretty much enjoyed life for six or seven years."
Thompson has never married. "Everyone else (in the family) is normal," he said. "I was the only oddball in the bunch. They all got married and have children. I think my parents were always a bit disappointed that I didn't get married and I didn't have grandchildren."
But Thompson said his football lifestyle wasn't the best environment for a marriage.
"I had what I thought were two chances with what I think would have been good matches, but I probably messed them both up," he said. "I would have liked to have been married and had children."
Reinfeldt said Thompson "isn't a quick study. It takes time to get to know him. When we went to Seattle, the equipment men and trainers reported to him and they didn't know what to think of him. But when he left, they said they really missed him."
Having a relatively low profile in Green Bay, despite being in a high-profile job, seems to suit Thompson.
"I think this is a marvelous place," he said. "People recognize me but they don't much bother me. You go to a restaurant and you see people look twice. People want the team to do well, so they want you to succeed, so they're always offering encouragement, sometimes advice. And sometimes I'm the face of the organization."




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