In Parker We Trust

I don't have a picture to share of myself and Coach Parker. I don't have any emotional anecdotes or funny quotes to tell. I'm pretty sure I've never even had a one on one conversation with the man. I'm not a reporter. I don't work for him. I certainly have never played for him. I haven't ever tried to reach out to him.

But the news of Parker retiring was a harsh reality. Even before he uttered the sentiment himself, I found myself repeating over and over and over again that it just couldn't be true. This man that I have watched for three seasons cannot be calling it quits. Not yet.



Of course, a legacy has to end in order to be remembered. We all saw a retirement coming, some of us a few years ago, some of us hoping for a few years from now. But after 40 seasons, Jack Parker will be leaving his post as Boston University Men's Ice Hockey Head Coach.

I didn't grow up watching Parker. I knew not of the work he had completed, the roads he had forged, the unforgettable moments he has been a part of. Sure, living in Massachusetts I had heard of him before. But it never really hit me until I got to BU.

I learned a lot during my first BU hockey game. Charlie Coyle is really good at hockey. Sieve was about to become commonplace in my vocabulary. The student section likes alcohol. The student section also likes chanting. And the man's name we chanted after "Kieran" was more than just the coach.

All the upperclassman told me that Jack Parker was a god. He molded and made this program what it is. He was always right and in Parker we were to always trust. I accepted that as any freshman would, but never really understood the full weight of it. I wasn't allow to question it, I should just start worshipping now.

So as a good BU hockey freshman fan I went along with it. I kept clapping his name. I kept reading his thoughts on his team, Hockey East, and the state of hockey as a whole. I kept falling deathly silent whenever he was speaking. I built a temple of sorts to him in my mind, all the while never questioning my motives.

It went on like that for a year, but then I started working at my work study job. My boss there is really something. She tells you when you're messing up and she doesn't deal with mental errors. She's intimidating, yes, but has quickly become one of my favorite people since coming to BU. She never gets into her personal life with only two exceptions: to tell me of her adorable niece and to talk about Coach Parker. She hasn't just heard of him. She hasn't just been around him. She has spent most of her life with him. I have never heard anyone hold someone in so much esteem as she holds him. Whether it was the way he answered the phone or the way he talked to her about hockey, she would spare no detail of her favorite interactions with Parker. I listened to those stories like five year olds listen to their parents talk about rewards for doing all of your chores and getting good grades. Hearing someone you respect more than your professors share some of the happiest moments of their life with one particular person certainly makes you take up an interest in that person.

That's when I started becoming infatuated with all things Jack Parker. Anytime someone had a story to tell about him, I'd listen. It doesn't matter if it was quick passerby quote or a lengthy tale. I wanted to know everything and anything about this man. And I was learning it all so quickly.

Around that same time I read Eleven Seconds for the first time. If I wasn't already a devoted Parker follower, I was after that. I'll admit that the simplest things in books make me cry, but never anything like that. I had to stop multiple times just to regain my composure. I am not afraid to admit that I weeped through the majority of that book but would not put it down until I finished. Though I find Travis Roy's life story immensely moving, it was the personal quotes and experiences he had with Parker that got to me most.

No longer was I just intrigued by learning about Parker. It was starting to set in just how unique a man he is. My hockey games were no longer just categorized by watching an NHL draft pick or two weekly. I was watching one of the best coaches in the history of sports teach, discipline, and motivate his team. For that he became more than just a coach, he has moved into legendary status.

I remember Chili Fest at last year's women's ice hockey game apart from a lot of other games. Not because of the play and the team. Not because of the great chili on my empty stomach. But because of what happened during one of the intermissions. Some of the band kids and I got up to eat. We stood there and just ate our chili, thinking nothing special of the moment. All of the sudden I felt a hand on my shoulder. I was in the middle of laughing and I didn't think it would be anyone but another kid in the band so I turned around with a beaming smile on my face. It was Coach Parker. My smile fell so fast. He leaned into the group and said, "good to see they feed the band, we need you!" With a quick chuckle he walked away to where ever he was headed. Everyone else I was with was able to at least get out a "thank you" but I stood there, in amazement, almost like I had seen a ghost. After Parker left the circle we all stared at each other before I finally was able to slip an "oh my god that was Coach Parker" from my lips, probably followed by a few explicatives. Later on that day my awe of Parker grew exponentially. On that same day he took the time out to say one side comment to us, on that same day he cracked a smile in my very small group of unsuspecting friends, Max Nicastro became public news.

Now I wasn't just fascinated by Parker the same way I get fascinated with scientific marvels. He wasn't just another legend, preparing to be lost among sport heroes everywhere. I got a momentary glimpse into who Parker was as a person.

I decided this year to take my fandom to the next level and went out to North Dakota to support the team. That trip went by in a blur, but a very memorable blur. I loved every last second of it, but it was a moment after the first game which would define that trip. The Friends of BU Hockey graciously allowed the fans that made the trip to come scarf down their food and crash their quaint get together. Of course, Parker stopped by for a post-game appearance. Even though we had lost, he strolled right over to us, a huge smile on, and thanked us genuinely for making the trip out. He said something inspirational and amazing I'm sure, but the only thing I can remember aside from the smile and thank you was him telling us that the state tree of North Dakota was a telephone pole. The twenty or so of us that were there laughed like we had never heard humor until this exact moment. Somehow, that was by far the funniest joke we had ever heard or could ever hope to tell.

People are always going to have role models. As a natural human instinct, we cling to people that have taught us something that we never really expected to learn. We are drawn to those who make the best of themselves and their situations. Parker said in his press conference today that he has over 200 sons. That's at least 200 people who look up to him as a role model. The man that showed them what hockey was really about, yes, but also about growing up and becoming a man. I can't call Jack Parker my role model in that sense.

At the same time, we have people in the world that we idolize. It generally boils down to who we want to be like or who we want to be with. Someone with great accomplishment. A dedicated, hard working person who has something to show for it. If you take a look at Parker's stats it's no wonder why he's a legend. He has done so much and given so much to this school. There are coaches that wish they could live up to just a small portion of his accomplishments, older brothers and fathers who want to be as inspiring as he is, and a lot of other "little people" who wish they could simply shake his hand. Although I do have a great admiration for him, calling Coach Parker an idol is stilling failing to tell the whole story.

Coach Parker is a special person, indeed. It's obvious to see those he has touched. I highly encourage you to check out two of the best Parker stories I've had the pleasure of reading today here and here. But in addition to all of them, there are legions of people that he nor I will ever know about. People who aren't close enough to call him when things get rough, but are so much more deeply connected than past anecdotes might reveal. It takes a proud, compassionate, and honest person to be known distantly and intimately at the same time. Too frequently do we find ourselves in positions of looking up to a person only to get too close and have them let us down. It could be because of circumstance or because of a character flaw you can never really see. But Coach Parker will never and can never be tainted in my eyes.

In news that is not new to anyone, Boston University Men's Ice Hockey went through a very trying time last year. Looking back now, I almost cannot believe the team got through all of it like they had. While I still believe they are all warriors in their own right, it was what Parker did that impressed me the most. His dedication to his players, his team, this school, and what was "right" somehow all shown through in his actions. In a time when it could have been incredibly easy to distance myself from BU hockey, it was Coach Parker who morphed my casual hobby into a passionate lifestyle.

I enjoy Jack Parker stories now more than ever because in the past two and a half years, I've been able to see him work first hand. I've chanted his name, laughed at his post game pressers, hung his poster on my wall and all around worshipped the ground he's walked on. I've defended him vehemently to outsiders, those close to the school, and everyone in between. I have felt forty years worth of dedication and pride beat throughout me in a single period.

And I'm not the only one.

There was an outpouring of people at the press conference today. Multiply that by a few and you'll see the public support that has been released through social media. Multiply that by a few hundred and you've got the other voiceless people that Coach Parker has touched in some way or another. We'll never be able to truly express in words what we've gained from Parker. We may not be able to tell you what he's taught us, but we can show you through our fervor of this team, program, and school. If there's one thing all of us can take away from Coach Parker, it's that showing your heart and believing in yourself is worth more than society wants us to believe. You can apply that to any situation, big or small. It goes beyond hockey.

I was so pleased to see the verbal, emotional, and outward support of Coach Parker today. From former players to lifers to freshmen, I've seen everyone offer what little insight they could into Parker's retirement. All of it was so overwhelmingly positive and genuine. But on behalf of the rest of us, us voiceless people, thank you Coach Parker. Thank you for forty years of perseverance, even if we only experienced a fourth of that. Thank you for your tweed jackets and your unabashed honesty. Thank you for the times you spoke and screamed out and thank you for the times you've listened and understood. Thank you for being the greatest coach to ever come to BU and thank you for reminding us that there's more to life than just the game.

There will never be another class of players or fans to experience Coach Parker's legacy first hand. But do know that his tradition and his influence will live far past him, us, and future generations. His mark on this sport, this school, and these people are often only dreamed of. I came to this school for academics, but I stayed for Parker. Even though I almost impaled him with the Goalie/Sieve sign once upon a time, I hope he knows just how influential a man he is.

In a world outside a frigid rink there are no stick salutes. No shin taps, no handshake lines. You can't always wear your colors on your sleeves. Cellys only exist on the ice and teams only reside in locker rooms. If pawprints really were a sufficient way to recognize that which is otherwise unnoticed, we'd all be giving Parker enough to fill up forty seasons worth of helmets and beyond.

Alas, there will come a time when we walk into Agganis and Coach Parker isn't behind the bench. He won't be sitting up top watching his team, but someone else's. The student section won't be filling the arena with his name. Coach York will be shaking another gentleman's hand while secretly wanting nothing more than to claim he's better.

But even as the ice continually melts and needs to be resurfaced; even as the paint fades and needs to be rewritten, Jack Parker's name will always endure.



Thank you, Coach.