Birth date: Feb 17, 1967 Death date: Jul 2, 2026
Mark Anthony Pozzuoli, beloved husband, father, papa, teacher, coach, and mentor, passed away on July 2, 2026, in Farmington, Utah. He was born on February 17, 1967, in Denver, Colorado, and spent his life lifting others through e Read Obituary
He was my summer gym teacher and called me Shit head after I told him he could call me anything that started with a S and I would respond. I took AP and he was our “third teacher” so he could come to all the good food places we went. But most of all my family is a big part of Hopebox and marky mark always made hopebox feel like a safe to be!
I’ve had dozens of coaches, and all of them have taught me something. Many of them knew more about the given sport than Pizz or were more invested in a district or state title, but NONE of them knew young men like Coach Pizz did. Other coaches were teaching you how to run a route and execute a takedown, but Pizz was teaching you how to be a good man. He didn't love you because you were great at the sport or because you brought home a trophy; he loved you because he took the time to get to know you, and because he cared about your life after you hung up your cleats and singlet.
He taught me the fruits of hard work, and that the first round went to talent, but the next two went to the harder worker and the person who wanted it more. He taught me what it meant to be part of a team—that a leader is the first person to arrive and the last person to leave, and that they help the next person in line. He taught me that what you do is infinitely more important than what you say. (And that was a hard lesson for me to learn, having been given the nickname "MOUTH" by Pizz because of my prolific ability to talk.)
I once nearly lost a wrestling match to an opponent I believed I should have beaten easily. I got thrown and almost pinned. I was furious, and despite winning, I left the mat without shaking my opponent's or the opposing coaches' hands. Pizz was furious! He found me in the locker room a few minutes later and let me have it: How dare I disrespect my opponent and the hard work they had put in to get there? How dare I disrespect the other coach? And how dare I disrespect the sport? But most of all, how dare I disrespect myself, my character, and my potential? He tore me a new one, then he embraced me in a giant bear hug and told me he expected more of me because I am better than that. And I believed him. He had a way of doing that—of making you feel like you belonged out there with the bigger, faster, stronger kids, and that the only thing that could stop you was you.
I could share another dozen stories, all of them as formative and special to me as the last. But suffice it to say that the throughline of my relationship with Pizz was that of a blacksmith and a piece of iron. I was an unshaped, unrealized hunk of potential, and Pizz put the heat on me. He pressured me sometimes 'til I thought I would break, and then he pounded (literally) on me relentlessly. Why? Because he saw what was underneath could stand up to the treatment and become something great.
Now, I don't know if I am a great man, but I know what one looks like and where to aim—and that is thanks to Pizz.
LOVE YOU COACH!!!!
He's the guy that brings a direct smile to your face during any high school "Mark" memory. He was a blast in choir class. I don't think I was ever in that class where I didn't full belly laugh at least once a day. He was kind enough to say "yes" when I asked him to the girls choice dance. That was the absolute ONLY high school dance I ever enjoyed. Sending smiles to heaven Mark. From the looks of things, you continued to make a difference and you were loved by thousands upon thousands. Nice work my friend.
Mr. pizz was the best, although I was never on his good side, I didn’t try too much in his class because I wasn’t bright enough to realize what he was trying to do. He always brought a smile to everyone’s faces when he visited another class, not 1 student ever spoke illy of him. He will forever be remembered by me and countless others for being one of the few teachers who truly understood how to teach children to enjoy learning, I’m now 21 years old and I keep the lessons and Mr. Pizz in my heart all these years later, I wish the best to his family and everyone else who was blessed by this amazing Hero.
Mark was always so kind to help with the kids theater community. I enjoyed working with him on many plays for the children. What a great man.
I played soccer with Mark for many years. Without a doubt he was the most motivational, and fearless goalie I have ever seen. Mark raised faith and belief in everyone from his being there on the field. I remember his dad attending every soccer game, rooting him on from the sidelines. He definitely made an impact of me and made an impact in this world that will live on. Godspeed, my friend.
Doug Nielsen
When I was in 7th grade, I sang in the school talent show. I had Mr. Pozzuoli’s science class later that day where he had me stand up and made everybody give me another round of applause. It didn’t matter whether the performance was good or not, but that I had the courage to do it. He was a teacher that taught so much more than science and information. He was absolutely hilarious too! I’m so happy to have known him. ❤️
When I was in 7th grade, I sang in the school talent show. I had Mr. Pozzuoli’s science class later that day where he had me stand up and made everybody give me another round of applause. It didn’t matter whether the performance was good or not, but that I had the courage to do it. He was a teacher that taught so much more than science and information. He was absolutely hilarious too! I’m so happy to have known him. ❤️
A day with mark that I will never forget is my last day of junior high. I had known mark way before junior high because me and my brother had been in hope box but I had gotten him for my 8th and 9th grade science classes. When it was time to do yearbook signing me and my friends had went into the school to find mark. He was in his classroom trying to hide from all the students. When we found him he asked what we wanted from him in his annoyed voice which made us all laugh as usual. He signed our yearbooks and told us he will miss teaching us more than anyone. He then gave us all a long hug. That was the first time I had seen him emotional. Not having him as a teacher anymore was the hardest part about going to high school.
I’ll never forget coach Piz. He was such a good man with such a good heart. My favorite memory of him was after a football game where we had really played poorly and not measured up to our potential he came into the locker room and ripped us a new one telling us that it was bullshit and we were better than that. He knew that we could do better and we knew he was right. It was a hard lesson to learn, but it stuck. Every game after that in my entire high school career I remember we all tried to give our all, even if we lost. And after every game after the other coaches had said their piece we would all start to yell “Piz! Piz! Piz! Piz!”… he would come in and look us dead in the eyes— say a few things he was proud of that we had done in that game and then, the moment we were all waiting for, he would yell and we would all join in: “and that ain’t no bullshit!!!” And the locker room would erupt into cheering and yelling and banging on lockers so loud that it felt like it shook the whole building. I’ll never forget that. We knew he cared and we all loved him. What a man! He will never be forgotten. Thanks Coach, I’m a better man because I knew you.
