Browns Tony Jones: A Big Man With a Big Smile

Browns Tony JonesCLEVELAND, OH - SEPTEMBER 27: Tony Jones #66 of the Cleveland Browns in action against the Denver Broncos during an NFL football game September 27, 1992 at Cleveland Municipal Stadium in Cleveland, Ohio. Jones played for the Browns from 1988-95. (Photo by Focus on Sport/Getty Images)

Browns Tony Jones: A big man with a big smile

By STEVE KING

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When I think of Tony Jones, the former longtime Browns offensive lineman from two completely different eras in team history, what comes to mind is not the normal images, those for which he was known by many people.

I don’t think of his colorful clothing, even though he stood out of the crowd in that regard. That includes the purple suit that caused another longtime Browns offensive lineman, Doug Dieken, to say to Jones, “You look like Barney.”

I don’t think of his size, even though he was a huge man. He was listed at 6-foot-5 and 291 pounds, but, for whatever reason, he appeared to be much bigger than that.

And I don’t think of his ability, even though he was a very good player. His name comes right after the other iconic Browns left tackles through the years, such as Lou Groza, Dick Schafrath, Joe Thomas and Dieken.

Yes, while all those things were a significant part – in fact, most – of Jones’s resume, there was something more – much, much more – than that about the man who passed away last Friday at a way, way, way too young 54 years old.

Rather, what I think of, and will remember, is that big smile and warm, friendly personality, and honesty, that made him a go-to guy in the Browns locker room for reporters in his eight-year career covering the last three seasons of the Bernie Kosar era (1988-90) and all five years of the Bill Belichick era (1991-95), during which he moved from right tackle and right guard to left tackle.

“T-bone,” as he was known, had a gentle way about him. He laughed easily and heartily. When he did well, which was almost all of the time, he shrugged off any praise. And when he messed up, he willingly owned up to it.

In the world of pro sports, when too many people pound their chest and scream, “Look at me!,” Jones was a refreshing change.

The last time I saw him was in the early 2000s when he seriously considered coming out of retirement to return to the Browns. He stood in the media room at Browns headquarters in Berea smiling and answering questions about the possibility. He ultimately decided against it.

That was probably the best decision for everybody involved, for Tony Jones could not have improved the legacy he left behind with all the people in Cleveland.

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