Mitch Murphy, 75, of Oelwein passed away Tuesday January 28, 2025 at his home. There will be a Memorial Open House held at the American Legion in Oelwein on Sunday February 2, 2025, from 4:00-7:00 PM. The Geilenfeld-Buehner Funeral Home in Oelwein is assisting the family. www.geilenfeldfh.com
Mitchell William Murphy, born November 29, 1949, decided he had coached his last game and left this world peacefully at home in Oelwein, surrounded by the people who loved him most. He was 75, which, given his stubbornness, was a pretty impressive run.
Mitch was preceded in death by his parents, Bill and Jean Murphy, and his sweet baby boy, Eddie. He is survived by his wife and absolute boss, Teresa Murphy, who saw him playing basketball at the pool one day, left the water, and never looked back (literally—she never let him out of her sight for 51 years). He also leaves behind his kids, Jeannie and Tony (Brittin), as well as his two handsome grandsons, Colton and Jaxon of Prairie Grove, AR, who inherited both his size and his talent for breaking ankles on the basketball court. His siblings, Candi Sprague (Larry), Jill Murphy (Tom Pickert), and Kelly Murphy, will also have to figure out how to live in a world without his sharp wit and unsolicited coaching advice.
Mitch had a hell of a life. As a young man, he was a left-handed basketball phenom at Sacred Heart Catholic School, striking fear into defenders and probably frustrating the right-handed world in general. After graduating in 1968, he enlisted in the U.S. Army in 1969, just as the Vietnam War was winding down. Instead of trekking through the jungle, Uncle Sam put him to work playing basketball across Europe. When he wasn’t breaking ankles overseas, he had the thrilling job of guarding Nazi war criminals at Spandau Prison in Berlin. (Yes, really. And yes, he had stories.)
Once honorably discharged, he returned home and, in his greatest achievement, convinced Teresa to marry him. He landed his first teaching job at Oelwein High School for the princely sum of $14,000 a year—an occasion so grand that they threw a party titled “Murphy Got a Job!” He later landed his dream role as Oelwein’s varsity basketball coach, where he spent 21 seasons on the sidelines, won 211 games, and led his teams to multiple state tournaments. His coaching was legendary, his halftime speeches were inspirational (or terrifying, depending on the game), and he never met a referee he didn’t “politely disagree” with.
But basketball wasn’t his only love. Mitch was also obsessed with golf. Whether it was a perfectly hit drive or a putt that should have gone in, the golf course was his second home. If heaven has a fairway, he’s already there, griping about his short game and blaming the wind.
And then there was Mickey Mantle. To say Mitch was a fan of “The Mick” would be an understatement. Mantle was his baseball hero, and his autographed baseball was one of his most prized possessions. If there’s any justice in the afterlife, Mitch and Mickey are sitting down right now, talking baseball over a couple of cold beers.
More than anything, Mitch was a devoted husband, father, and grandfather. He was thoughtful, hilarious, and always present for his family. His last years weren’t easy, but he faced them with the same grit, pride, and slightly stubborn attitude that made him who he was. Vince Lombardi would have been jealous.
Mitch is off to the great basketball court in the sky, where the refs always make the right calls, no one three-putts, and Mickey Mantle never strikes out. His impact will be felt for generations, and if heaven has a scoreboard, you can bet he’s already keeping track.
