With Shea Stadium packed near capacity on the night of May 13, 1966, Bill Murphy launched his first career major league homer deep into the New York sky. The budding, 22-year-old Mets outfielder had notched his first career home run and base hit on one swing – a clutch two-out, three-run blast off San Francisco southpaw Ray Sadecki in front of a season-high Queens crowd of 56,658.
Murphy’s momentous blast snapped a scoreless tie in the fourth, a drive to left center that proved too deep for the reach of Giants legend Willie Mays.
“The ‘Say Hey’ Kid. That was Bill’s favorite baseball player,” Ron Murphy, Bill’s younger brother of seven years, told The News Tribune. “To kind of show off in front of Willie Mays, that (was) a big, big deal.”
Mays homered in the eighth later that night, part of San Francisco’s late rally that turned the Friday night game into a 17-inning marathon the Giants survived, 5-4. But Murphy, the rookie from Clover Park High School in Lakewood, went 3-for-6 with three RBI and enjoyed what was unquestionably the pinnacle of his young baseball career.
The South Sound recently lost the one-time major leaguer, longtime Northwesterner, and beloved family man on the 58th anniversary of his unforgettable home run. William Eugene “Bill” Murphy, a former TNT employee, died on May 13, 2024 in Tacoma. He was 80.
Survived by his wife of 35 years, Carmen, and four siblings (six total), Murphy was a “protector, provider and leader” who followed his professional baseball career with decades of service as both a mentor and church elder.
Born on May 7, 1944, in Winnfield, Louisiana, Murphy hinted at athletic excellence in earlier years, raised in the Jim Crow South before his father’s military career moved the family to Germany. The infielding natural participated in military-organized youth athletic leagues overseas and, following their move to the Northwest, soon blossomed into Clover Park’s star infielder.
Murphy graduated from Clover Park in 1962, a three-sport star. He rejected a basketball scholarship from Seattle University and opted against football to sign with the New York Yankees and pursue big-league aspirations.
“Getting signed by the Yankees? That was, like, his dream,” Ron said. “And it would have been (so) for any baseball team.
“But the Yankees? With their history? That (was) a huge thing for him.”
It’s where the right-handed hitter transformed his defensive game from infielder to outfielder, crediting baseball legend Joe DiMaggio for lessons amid spring training in 1964 that eased the switch. In July 1965, Murphy put his cannon arm on display, nailing three runners on separate throws to each base in a minor league game for Class-A Binghamton.
Later plucked by the New York Mets in the 1965 Rule 5 draft, Murphy played his lone major league season in Queens that year. The 22-old-year managed 31 career hits (.230/.271/.341) with three home runs, 15 runs, and 13 RBI, and appeared in parts of eight minor league seasons throughout a professional career that spanned nine years.
Stops along the way included local homecomings: Murphy suited up for the Seattle Angels (1967) in the Pacific Coast League and concluded his career with the Tacoma Cubs in 1970. He logged 2,167 career minor league at-bats and tallied 43 home runs, 262 RBI and 52 stolen bases.
One memory Ron will never forget: the year Murphy drove home following his major league season with the Mets in a brand new Ford Thunderbird, along with the natural reaction it garnered among friends.
“(Bill) drove that Thunderbird to my kindergarten class,” his younger sister of 17 years, Dorothea Murphy, said with a laugh. “The windows (in the classroom) were in front where he’d drive up to get me, and I remember the kids running from their desks to the window with their face pressed up against the (glass). They were like, ‘That’s the coolest car! Whose car is that?’
“And I was able to look over and say, ‘That’s my brother.’
“That was a very cool moment, because he was such a celebrity.”
Murphy was far from flashy, humble of his accomplishments and a known lover of “the simple things in life” whose favorite meal was a piece of cornbread covered in milk. He was a “jack of all trades,” a Mr. Fix-It relied upon for car maintenance, plumbing and everything in between.
His preferred payment? A cup of coffee and conversation.
“In Tacoma, for all intents and purposes, there would be a haul-away-your-junk day to Tacoma Refuse. Bill was the guy who picked up stuff from my house,” Ron said. “And I always had a cup of coffee for him. That’s what he wanted.”
Murphy’s retirement from professional baseball brought him home. The one-time major league outfielder and member of the U.S. Army Reserve in the late 1960s would attend Pierce College (Fort Steilacoom) and play for the basketball team before directing the school’s baseball program as head coach.
Murphy went on to oversee news carriers for The News Tribune, living the majority of his life in the Northwest. He was an avid golfer and member of Tee & Turf golf club, which encouraged Black and Brown golfers to enjoy and participate in the sport at a time the game was less accessible.
He is preceded in death by parents Lola and Dero, as well as sisters Annie and Ivy. He is survived by brothers Mike and Ron, sisters Donna and Dorothea, and brother-in-law James.
Murphy “was a faithful (and) loving husband, a wonderful big brother, brother-in-law, uncle, cousin (and) friend,” according to Murphy’s obituary from Mountain View Memorial Park in Lakewood.
“He would come home and be very present for us,” Dorothea said. “When you have a big age gap, that’s super important. It could’ve meant that I didn’t really know him at all. Now obviously, I got to know him more as time went on and I got older, but I would’ve had no memories if he wasn’t present. … And that, I feel like, is a very big statement about who he was.
“He was never co*cky about his career. He was never co*cky about what he did. … When (his sibling’s) friends would come over, they’d want an autograph, they’d want to talk to him. He was there. He even played catch with them in the yard.
“It was more important for him to take those talents and to influence, and be a good human being for his family and the community.”
