Humility defines all-star Sean Murphy, who will be in spotlight in Seattle

Sean Murphy greets the home plate umpire before their game against the Boston Red Sox at Truist Park, Tuesday, May 9, 2023, in Atlanta.

Credit: Jason Getz / Jason.Getz@ajc.com

Credit: Jason Getz / Jason.Getz@ajc.com

Sean Murphy greets the home plate umpire before their game against the Boston Red Sox at Truist Park, Tuesday, May 9, 2023, in Atlanta.

Before Mike and Marge Murphy, Sean Murphy’s parents, begin rattling off some of their favorite stories about their son, Mike leads with a preface for the first one, which is about donuts.

“You don’t learn about your kids – and this involves whether they play sports or not – until you hear stories from other people later on,” he says.

When asked about the tales that best represent their son’s selflessness, Mike and Marge both immediately thought about the donut story. And they would not have even known about it had it not been for a longtime junior varsity coach at Centerville (Ohio) High School, Sean’s alma mater.

The coach, who loves Sean, happened to tell Mike and Marge the story one day: When Sean was on the varsity baseball team, he would arrive every morning with a box of donuts for the junior varsity players. Of course, they played second fiddle to the varsity, with worse batting cage times and the like. And so Sean would show up with donuts.

“He would just come in, bring the guys donuts, and sit there and BS with them, and talked about hitting and whatever they wanted to talk about,” Mike said. “He would just hang with them, and he’d bring them a box of donuts.”

Mike and Marge had no idea.

“Who knew?” Mike said. “Who knew this story?”

Told about this, Sean says: “They were just going in early and I was a little bit older, so I was the only one with a car, I think. I would just get donuts, because it was always cool when someone brought me donuts, and I thought it would be cool if I brought them donuts.”

This story perfectly describes Sean, who is kind and caring, but never loud or boastful. He is a humble giant. He has always paired his talent with hard work, but has never let the end result – a life as a Major League Baseball player – change him.

On this particular evening, Mike and Marge Murphy are standing at a table on a patio overlooking left field at Cleveland’s Progressive Field. They are here talking about their son, who is an all-star without the fanfare that comes with it. And in silence, he loves helping everyone he can.

The selfless and humble Murphy, who prefers to remain anonymous, will be in the well-deserved bright lights in the All-Star Game in Seattle.

“Grateful for the honor going,” he said. “It’s always a cool thing. I’ve always watched the All-Star Game from a distance. Getting to go, it’s cool. It’s weird that I’m going to be there, but it’s cool.”

‘Never liked attention’

The Sean Murphy Paradox is this: He is one of baseball’s elite catchers, and plays for its best team, but couldn’t care less about the fame. Ironically, the guy who hates the spotlight will be thrust into it during all-star week in Seattle, from the red carpet to the interviews to everything else.

“Never liked attention,” Marge said. “Never liked attention no matter what he did. He had to be in the school play and he had to be in the nativity, and he had to be a – I don’t know – a shepherd or whatever. He’s like, ‘I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to do any of this.’ I’m like, ‘But it’s your first-grade play!’ He didn’t want anything to do with it.”

“He’s always been that way,” Mike said. “Doesn’t want to be out in front, doesn’t like it.”

The Murphys are not simply saying this to make their son look like a quiet and humble person. No, they mean it. Sean really does not like attention. There are stories that illustrate this.

Let’s start with freshman dance lessons.

“So there was a freshman dance …” Marge begins.

“He might kill you for this,” Mike says.

There were four dances. These lessons taught young ladies and young men proper etiquette for formal events. But they never had enough boys sign up for it.

“Come on Sean, just do the dance committee thing,” Marge said at the time. “It’s a year.”

So he did it.

And did not particularly enjoy it.

“I will never forgive you for making me do that,” Sean once told his mom.

Then there’s the Penn Station story. Sean grew up in the Dayton area, and Penn Station is a local sandwich shop. They did a contest recognizing an athlete of the month. Sean had good grades and excelled in baseball, a perfect fit for this. Winners went into a larger pool, and the overall winner earned a college scholarship.

“I’m gonna enter Sean into that,” Marge said at the time.

Mike looked at her and said: “Don’t you dare. He’ll kill you! Don’t you dare do it.”

She didn’t listen.

“I did (enter him),” Marge said. “And he won.”

Penn Station put up posters with Sean’s face on them throughout their locations. Sean had to do an interview with the local news station, and was mortified. But he did get a bunch of free sandwiches.

“I was really popular at school for a few days because I had, like, 1,000 buy-one-get-one-free coupons, so everybody was my new best friend,” Sean said.

They were gone within a day. He guessed that his high school baseball coach is probably still getting free subs.

During Sean’s freshman year at Wright State, his teammates found the poster with his face. You can imagine how that went.

“That is strike two, mom,” Sean said then. “You got one more.”

‘Amazingly proud’

Years ago, 5-year-old Sean Murphy sat with his mother as he ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Marge asked him a question.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?”

Sean looked her square in the eye and said: “I’m going to be Mark McGwire.”

“Well, you can’t be Mark McGwire but you could be like Mark McGwire,” Marge said. “You could be a major-league player if you really wanted to be.”

“That’s what I’m going to do,” young Sean said.

Recalling this, Marge says now: “I’m like, ‘Yeah, yeah, yeah, have another peanut butter and jelly sandwich.’”

But here’s Sean, the first-time all-star, one of the top contributors in a dangerous lineup. He has perhaps exceeded expectations after the Braves acquired him in a trade with Oakland last December.

His parents are more proud of who he is as a person. He seeks to help others.

When Sean and his now wife, Carleigh, were planning their wedding, everyone wondered what gifts to buy. Did they have a registry? What did they want?

“We want absolutely nothing,” the couple told people. “We want anyone who would be giving us a gift to donate to St. Vincent de Paul homeless shelter.”

“He has a propensity for (helping) people who have less,” Marge said.

This matters more than any home run or RBI. It means more than his OPS or the amount of runners he throws out.

“This will last for (only) so long,” Marge said, gesturing toward the field. “Who he is will last much longer than that.”

“I just am who I am, I guess,” Murphy said. “I’ll always try and be that.”

‘He doesn’t get caught up in all the hoopla’

On last month’s trip to Detroit, Murphy was with his sister, Erin, and her kids. They went to lunch. When they returned to the Braves’ hotel, they returned to a crowd of people who, of course, went wild when they saw Sean.

“He was never recognized in Oakland,” Mike said.

“He’s being more recognized,” Marge said.

The Oakland Athletics are not the Atlanta Braves. It is difficult to remain out of sight when you’re a starter – and an all-star, at that – for one of the sport’s most popular teams. The Braves have fans everywhere.

“I still don’t get recognized that much,” Sean said. “Out of context, no one really recognizes me. In context yeah, like walking to the field and stuff like that. … I try to stay under the radar, I guess.”

Just the way he prefers.

Murphy is a terrific fit in Atlanta. The Braves have stars. They have a lot of fun as a team. But they are about baseball. They handle their business. They don’t become distracted.

This is perfect for Murphy, who simply wants to prepare for baseball games before playing in them. He cares a lot about making his pitchers’ lives easier. He appreciates his platform and the Braves’ rabid fanbase, but he wants to win. He does his job.

“He doesn’t get caught up in all the hoopla and stuff like that,” Braves manager Brian Snitker said. “It’s just about preparing for (that day’s) game.”

“He’s a good dude and he cares about winning, and he knows how to prepare for a baseball game,” said Matt Olson, Murphy’s teammate in Oakland before Atlanta eventually acquired both. “Even as a rookie his first day in the big leagues, that’s how he was and I think it’s just how he’s wired.”

‘Soak it in’

When the Athletics called up Murphy in 2019, they were playing a series at Yankee Stadium. Mike was up all night and couldn’t sleep. He sent his son a long text.

“When you stand on the foul line, taking in the national anthem on a big-league field for the very first time, soak it in,” Mike, a former minor-league pitcher, wrote. “Because that’s the one thing I never got to do. You’ve made it when you do that, when you’re on the roster at a big-league ballpark listening to the national anthem. That’s two minutes that you can just reflect on the opportunity and what you’ve achieved.”

The All-Star Game is the same way. Sean might not demand the spotlight, but he can certainly be proud of his accomplishments. He’s in this position for a reason.

This is for certain: Sean, who excels on both sides of the chalk, is one of baseball’s top catchers. He’ll fittingly be recognized with the sport’s best players, and he’ll start in the All-Star Game.

Like everyone else, Mike and Marge found out their son would be starting in the game when ESPN announced it on the selection show. To that point, the Murphys knew Sean had the most votes at his position. “But until it happens, who knows?” Mike said. They were sitting on their RV intently watching the television until they heard Sean’s name.

“I just started getting all choked up,” Mike said. “It was the same choked up I got when he got promoted to the big leagues.”

To Sean’s parents, there are times when none of this feels real. Their son – the one they raised from his first steps – is a big leaguer. His mother, Marge, can’t wrap her head around it.

“When I watch him play, I’m like, ‘I know that guy,’” she said. “When we sit and have lunch, that’s my son. But when we watch him play, it’s like I know him, but it seems surreal.”

On a recent day, Mike and Sean had an exchange that perfectly captures Sean.

“Ten years from now, this will all be over, right?” Mike said.

Sean laughed.

“Yeah, if I get 10 years,” Sean said. “I won’t miss being out in front. I’ll be happy to be the plain, old Sean Murphy every day again, when the time comes.”