Don Horn

Jordan Love operates in a different stratosphere—he's got the arm talent and mobility Horn never possessed, plus he's throwing to receivers who'd make Gary Garrison weep with envy. Love's already closing in on 4,000 yards in his second season; Horn threw for 3,369 total in eight years. Love represents the modern Packers; Horn was a capable bridge between the Starr and Favre eras who showed flashes but never quite stuck.

Don Horn never made Canton, and frankly, his résumé doesn't warrant it. He was a solid backup and spot starter for Green Bay who had some memorable moments—that 1968 relief appearance against the Bears was clutch—but his career arc (3 TDs to 14 INTs in 1971) tells you he wasn't Hall of Fame material. He's remembered fondly in Green Bay, just not enshrined.

The search results don't reveal Horn's current 2026 activities, so I can't confirm whether he's involved in broadcasting, business, or charity work. Given he turned 72 recently, he's likely enjoying life away from the spotlight, but without concrete information, I won't speculate on his specific pursuits.

Modern rules would help Horn's completion percentage and TD-to-INT ratio significantly—today's defenses can't mug receivers like they did in the '60s and '70s. But his arm strength and decision-making were merely adequate even in his era. He'd probably be a solid backup in 2026, maybe a competent game manager, but wouldn't suddenly become a franchise guy. The rules evolve; talent gaps don't disappear.

Bart Starr laps Horn on every meaningful metric—two Super Bowl rings, a 64.74 rating versus Horn's 10.94, and the intangible leadership that defined Lombardi's dynasty. Starr was a Hall of Famer who won when it mattered most; Horn was a capable understudy who occasionally got his shot. It's not really a comparison—it's a reminder of how vast the gap between very good and truly great can be.