- Pat Murphy took over as Brewers manager from close friend Craig Counsell after 2023.
- Murphy, 66, has children ranging in age from six to 39.
- Murphy “thought the time had passed” to become an MLB manager.
MILWAUKEE — It’s the Day After, and Pat Murphy arrives to his Milwaukee Brewers office with a large mug of coffee, notebook in his hand, and a soul to bare.
He warmly welcomes you, proudly talks about the personal photographs and pictures in his office, and if you truly want to know about the 66-year-old former boxer with three failed legal marriages, kids ranging from 39 to 6, the son of an alcoholic father who nearly spiraled down the same path, well, pull up a chair and listen.
Murphy, whose team just got done celebrating their emotional National League Division Series victory over their rival Chicago Cubs, waving the white “L” flag during their team picture to mock the Cubs, still smells the stench of champagne in the hallway.
He didn’t have a single drink, or even a sip of the Korbel Brut champagne or Budweiser that were wildly sprayed in their clubhouse, avoiding all of the temptations of alcohol.
“When I used to drink,” Murphy says, “I wanted to either fight or (expletive).
“Both of them lead to bad things.”
Murphy doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t even smile. But facts are facts.
“Drinking is everywhere in this game,” Murphy says during his wide-ranging 90-minute interview with USA TODAY Sports. “But I can’t. I watched the disease kill my dad. I watched it kill (former Oakland Athletics All-Star pitcher) Bobby Welch. It’s just too personal.
“I don’t care if people drink and laugh at me for awhile, but I can go out and hang with you and you’ll think I’m drinking.”
Murphy, who grew up in Syracuse, N.Y., and fought, drank and played sports having no idea what he was going to do with his life, still has trouble believing he’s the manager of the Milwaukee Brewers.
He couldn’t even manage his personal life, so how in the world was he going to lead a major-league team?
Murphy had to wait until he was 64 years old before even getting this opportunity, which happened only after his close friend departed, with his bosses and loyal fanbase still calling it an ultimate act of betrayal.
Murphy was set to leave for the Cubs, too, joining Craig Counsell. He had already spoken to the club, began negotiations, and figured he’d spend another five years as Counsell’s bench coach.
He told the Brewers he was bolting if they had no intention of making him manager. He certainly wasn’t going to stay as a bench coach for a new manager. The Brewers called him during the General Manager Meetings at the Omni Resort in Scottsdale, Ariz., made no promises, but they would interview him. He was instructed to drive over from his home in Chandler, Ariz., for a formal meeting.
“I remember sitting there for two hours with all these (expletive) nerds in the room,” Murphy says. “And they were an hour late to begin with. I think they were interviewing Don Mattingly or something. I mean, I didn’t even get a drink or a cracker. I’m like ‘guys, what the (expletive)? What the (expletive) do you want me to tell you. You already know me, right?’
“I’ve been here eight (expletive) years, I need an answer pretty soon.”
Pat Murphy ‘thought the time had passed’
It has turned out to be one of the Brewers’ best decisions since hiring Bob Uecker as their broadcaster. They have cut payroll and dealt away their top players, but they have won back-to-back NL Central titles, winning more games than any team in baseball this season, and here they are in the National League Championship Series, playing the powerful Los Angeles Dodgers.
“The Average Joes,” Murphy says, “aren’t Average (expletive) Joes anymore.
“We pulled it off.”
The Brewers, in perhaps their biggest postseason series victory since winning the pennant in 1982, knocked off their hated rivals and celebrated deep into the night. Three times during the celebration they even played the “Go, Cubs Go” victory song, laughing and singing it louder as the night dragged on.
“That song can get so damn annoying,” Murphy says, “especially playing them 13 times a year. It was just a great night. I’ve had some great moments in uniform, but that might have been the biggest one considering the rivalry, and having my three boys there (Kai, 25, a minor-league outfielder in the Padres organization; Austin, 10, a fifth-grader; Jaxon, 6, who’s in first grade). I wish my daughter (Kelli) was here, because that would have made it perfect.”
Kelli, who’s married to former Pittsburgh Pirates All-Star third baseman Pedro Alvarez with two children, promises to be on hand if the Brewers make the World Series.
It looks like a longshot at this juncture with the Brewers losing the first two games of the National League Championship Series in Milwaukee, with Game 3 at Dodger Stadium, but they’ve been surprising folks all year. Why stop now?
The Brewers certainly don’t have the financial resources of the Dodgers with a payroll that’s more than $250 million less than the Dodgers. They don’t have the star power, with the Dodgers having four MVPs and two Cy Young winners.
It’s so lopsided on paper that Murphy even sent Andrew Friedman, Dodgers president of baseball operations, a text message. He pleaded with him to have his Dodgers players use gloves on their opposite hands during the series to even things out – or he’d have to make up concoction to blackmail him.
“I usually don’t laugh out loud when I get something funny in a text message,” Friedman said. “But with Patty – that’s what I call him – I’d say 80% of the time I do.”
Yes, like the very first text message Murphy sent to Friedman in December 2023.
“Andy, look at you grinding deep in the weeds to find those hidden gems,” Murphy said. “Ohtani, Yamamoto, it’s similar to us with signing Collin Rea and Joe Ross. Also, need to apologize for announcing [Eric] Haase on the same day as Ohtani.”
Murphy, of course, is accustomed to the underdog role. No one thought he would manage again in the big leagues again after going 42-54 as the San Diego Padres’ interim manager in 2015. He interviewed three times, and nearly landed the New York Mets job before they hired Carlos Beltran and then Luis Rojas. He was on the Texas Rangers’ short list before they chose Chris Woodward. The Baltimore Orioles asked for permission to talk before they turned to Brandon Hyde.
Now, here he is, about to join Hall of Famer Bobby Cox as the only managers to win consecutive National League Manager of the Year awards after leading the Brewers to 190 victories, back-to-back division titles – while payroll was cut by about $40 million.
“There were times when I thought the time had passed,” Murphy says. “We had so much success and I wasn’t getting that many interviews. I had people telling me, ‘Yeah, you’re too old.’ I heard that I’m hard to work with and things like that.
“I didn’t lose hope, but I thought about going back to college to coach.”
‘Friends beyond the game’ with Craig Counsell
When Murphy was coaching baseball at Notre Dame, when he first met a scrawny freshman named Craig Counsell in 1989 out of Whitefish Bay, Wisc.
“I was tough on him, really inappropriately tough,” Murphy says, “but I was inappropriate on everybody. I was a football coach, you know what I mean. My mentality was just to (expletive) bury guys, make them understand, brainwash them if you will. By the time Counsell was a junior and senior, he knew I had great respect for him because of the way he went about it.”
The next thing Murphy knew, he was helping negotiate Counsell’s $5,000 signing bonus with the Colorado Rockies and they became best of friends. Counsell joined the Brewers front office in 2012 after his playing career, and Murphy moved onto Arizona State, leading the Sun Devils to four College World Series appearances, before being forced to resign after an NCAA recruiting investigation. He joined the San Diego Padres, managed in the minor leagues before becoming the interim manager in 2015 but was let go after the season. Counsell, who became manager of the Brewers midseason, rescued Murphy by having him join his staff as bench coach.
“I was supposed to mentor him but he ended up teaching me the big leagues style, how the game is played up here,” Murphy says. “He doesn’t know he did that, but being in that position, I was forced to learn. He did a ton more for me than I ever did for him.”
That’s why Murphy winces about Counsell being vilified in MIlwaukee. Counsell is booed by the fans at every opportunity, while certain members of the Brewers organization still refuse to talk to him, angry he would leave them for their hated rivals.
“I hate that,” Murphy says. “If you know him and his family, they love Milwaukee.
“Couns wouldn’t talk to opposing players every much, but if there was a kid from Milwaukee, he’d be talking to him. He loved Milwaukee. And any high school basketball player that came to the game, he’d talk to them. That’s what pains me.”
When the Brewers knocked off the Cubs in Game 5 last week and the team celebrated wildly in the clubhouse, can you guess who was waiting in the hall for Murphy? Yep, Counsell, who hugged Murphy, and even hugged his son, Kai, wishing them the best through October.
“I mean, we’re friends beyond the game,” Murphy says. “That will never stop. We’re not acquaintances; we’re real friends. His kids and [wife] Michelle are important to me. My kids are important to him.”
It’s the kids that override everything for Murphy. He can have the gruff exterior, use profanity as a verb or noun, tell off-color jokes and is completely unfiltered.
Yet, as competitive as he is, as badly as he wants to beat your rear-end, nothing in life means more than his family. He raised Kai since he was three years old. He has his 10- and 6-year-old boys stay with him during the summer in Milwaukee and the winter in Phoenix. The boys will even accompany him to his postgame press conferences, with 10-year-old Austin answering questions Wednesday at Murphy’s press briefing at Dodger Stadium.
“I’ve got to be honest,” he says, “I don’t do this to try to look good. I’m not trying to look good, because parenting is really hard coaching. That’s what it’s about for me.
“My whole life is my kids and my job and it’s always been that way.”
If he wasn’t devoted to parenthood, well, he wouldn’t have been three times.
He got married the first time because his girlfriend was pregnant, producing Kelli, their 39-year-old daughter.
He got married the second time in 2000 because his girlfriend was pregnant and now they have 25-year-old son Kai, who Murphy raised since he was three.
“So back in the day, when you got a woman pregnant and had a kid, you got married,” Murphy says. “You needed to give the baby a name.”
The only wedding that was planned wound up ending after seven years. They met at a club while she was on a work-release program and suffering from alcohol and drug problems. Murphy visited her a few times in jail, they hit it off, got together when she got out and quickly married.
“I had people stand up at the wedding with two volunteers from the 7-11,” Murphy says, “I paid them $150 bucks apiece.”
Bruce Springsteen is like ‘church’ for Pat Murphy
Murphy never needed anything fancy. He used to go down to Billy Harris’ Boxing Club in the south side of Syracuse to learn how to fight. He won two tournament as a kid and wound up in about 20, maybe 25 fights in his life.
“I mean, I won a lot, but I wasn’t very good,’’ he says. “I kind of picked the targets that I wanted to fight. Football, basketball, baseball, that was my life. But I loved sparring, and boxing was just something that I was better than all the kids in my neighborhood.
“So I went to the gym where they’d bring in these kids from work-release programs and they wanted to kill me. I just wanted to fight and win. They wanted to kill. When you start getting into the ring with guys that are desperate, I knew this wasn’t a sport for me.”
Murphy laughs, sits back and looks around his office. There are pictures on his desk. On his walls. On his coffee tables. And yes, even on his body, if you count the tattoos. He looks at the eight pictures on his wall to his right every day, pointing to each one as an inspiration.
There’s Satchel Paige on the left holding a baseball wearing a Kansas City Monarchs jersey: “This is competing with freedom. Doing the right thing, playing against adversity.”
Mariano Rivera tipping his cap to the crowd: “Humility”
Jackie Robinson sliding home: “Fighting for diversity.”
Muhammad Ali standing over Joe Frazier and taunting him: “Iconic, with a bigger picture in mind.”
Bob Welch pitching for the Oakland Athletics: “Friendship. My closest friend in the world, addiction got him, too.”
Ty Cobb sliding home with spikes up: “Relentless and ruthless.”
Roberto Clemente sliding with his hands up in the air: “What he meant for giving.”
And Derek Jeter rounding the bases with his right arm thrust into the air: “Ultimate teammate. It wasn’t about talent, it was about teammate. A winner.”
“I picked those pictures up,” Murphy says, “because those people remind me of that.’’
There are dozens of pictures of his family, former Brewers greats, and four pictures alone of Uecker, the Hall of Fame broadcaster who is talked about with reverence every day in the Brewers clubhouse.
“We would sit right there on the couch, do these pre-game interviews for three minutes,” Murphy says, “and then just talk for an hour. He loved the players, and they loved him back. He wanted to be in that clubhouse every day.
“He was a Hall of Famer, but he didn’t act like a Hall of Famer. He didn’t act like he was better than you. He was just Bob.
“That’s why I got this.”
Murphy pulls up his sweatshirt sleeve, and there it is, high on his left arm and his lower shoulder – a tattoo of Uecker’s uniform patch.
“That’s how much he meant to me, to all of us,” Murphy says.
So why get the tattoo now?
“I was waiting,” he says, “for a special time.”
His office also has pictues and a book featuring Bruce Springsteen, and Murphy has ink on his arm and his back in tribute of Springsteen, including the words “no retreat, no surrender.”
There’s rarely a day that goes by when Murphy isn’t listening to Springsteen, having attended 10-15 of his concerts, though he prefers some old R&B or soul. Give him The Temptations or Bill Withers any day.
And yet, it’s Springsteen’s lyrics, his voice, that soothes Murphy, almost as if “The Boss” is speaking just to him.
“It was 1980,” Murphy says. “I was seeing a girl, and her brother was in love with Springsteen. We were in Hollywood, Florida. Now, his music wasn’t really my cup of tea. I grew on all Black music. But I went to this rock-and-roll concert because of this girl.
“When I saw the show, I go ‘it’s OK’ but this guy has just played for five (expletive) hours. He did like eight curtain calls. He kept coming back. I’m like, ‘this is incredible.'”
When Murphy became the Notre Dame coach, one of his players talked him into going to another Springsteen concert. He started listening to the lyrics, loving “halfway to heaven but only a mile out of hell.”
“So I start listening more, and more, and more, and I got hooked,” Murphy. “Now, it’s all I play in my car. I’m in a different mode when I listen to it. … It’s not even like music to me. It’s more like church. That’s why I got the ‘no retreat, no surrender’ on my arm. I’ve got ‘The Boss,’ tattooed on my back.
“He’s just different. … I’ve had chances to meet him backstage, but I didn’t want to meet him like that. I want him to just sit and let me (talk) with him for 10 minutes.”
Murphy read an inspirational note to his players Wednesday, reminding them that they were obliterated the first four games of the season, losing by a combined score of 47-15 to the New York Yankees and Kansas City Royals, then turned around and won more games than any team in baseball.
“This is more an opportunity than anyone knows,” Murphy said Wednesday. “If I was to tell this group after their 0-4 starts with the worst run differential in baseball history, ‘Hey, you’re four games from the World Series,’ you’d take it.
“Whatever that mountain is, we’ll take it. Whatever has happened in the past, has happened in the past. … There’s a lot of reason to doubt. There’s a lot of daunting scenarios out there. But it’s not time to think, complain or explain.
“It’s time to go.”
Murphy has never stopped going his entire life.
He sure ain’t about to stop now.
(This story has been updated to correct transposed wording.)
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