Transition Interview Series Part 4: Scott "The Sheriff" Parker, Stanley Cup Champion, TBI Survivor and Veteran advocate.

A conversation around life after hockey, finding solace in the outdoors, and how partnering with Vets helped to heal a series of life-threating brain injuries.

Scott, "The Sheriff" Parker, is a name that resonates with hockey fans, evoking memories of his role as the enforcer for the Colorado Avalanche in the late 2000s. With a nine-season NHL career, Parker's physical style left a lasting impression on his opponents. He won the Stanley Cup in 2001 before being traded to San Jose and eventually back to the Avalanche. However, Scott Parker is known amongst the active and Veteran communities for another reason. Leaving hockey after a series of Traumatic Brain Injuries (TBIs) at only 30 years old, Scott has dedicated much of his time and energy to helping Veterans, the Veteran and pro-athlete transition process, and assisting others impacted by brain injury.

In part four of The TRANSITION Interview Series, I had the privilege of spending an afternoon with Scott and his wife Francesca at a facility that serves as a home base for their non-profit, Scott's Platoon, in Grand Lake, CO. While driving to Grand Lake, I listened to podcasts featuring Scott and had already researched some details of his playing career. That resulted in experiencing a bit of the awkwardness that can be felt when asking someone questions they already know the answer to.

Scott and Francesca were two of the most hospitable, easy to talk to talk to individuals I've ever met in the Vet non-profit community. Their understating of the military transition process, the power of Outdoor Recreation Therapy, and the similarities they shared from their experience made for a very enjoyable afternoon. 

I'm grateful Scott was willing to share a few of the highs and lows from his own process, from growing up in the woods of Alaska to pro-hockey to Veteran work. I hope you enjoy our conversation.

So, to start, how did you become aware of the idea that leaving the NHL had similarities to leaving the military? 

Through these barbershops we owned. We had a bunch of them. My wife Francesca ran them. She's since retired from all that, but back in the day, we owned a bunch of barbershops.

Down in Castle Rock. These boys would come in after their appointments at the VA on Colorado Blvd. They'd come in all pissed off and worked up, you know?

We had a room in the back and a shave parlor. We'd just listen to them, let them talk, get stuff off their chest from whatever was going on with the VA.

Wow. What a cool connection. How long after hockey did you guys decide to open these barbershops? 

Oh man, we had them while I was still playing; I guess until about 2012, when we shut them down. I got pretty sick in 2012. I was having some seizures, and I think I slept for about a 6-month period that year. Francesca had to step back from a lot of the barbershop stuff to be my full-time caretaker. I wasn't really depressed, coming off a decade of hockey. I just needed to rest, and heal, and not get hit in the head.

But yeah, that's how a lot of this got started. When I finally came out of hibernation, I started therapy, and what was helping was a lot of outdoor stuff. Connecting with memories I had pre-hockey, growing up in Alaska.

Good for you. So, you're dealing with some neuro health stuff, and Vets are coming in the barbershop with similar complaints, and you realize these guys have some of the same symptoms I do? 

Exactly. I know it's not the same. What you guys do overseas is amazing, and we're not trying to say it's the same. I couldn't do what you did, and you couldn't do what I did, but I think life after military and life after hockey share some commonalities, especially with the TBI stuff.  

Yeah, it makes sense. Were you having any symptoms previous to your retirement? 

Oh God, yeah.

You had to be tightlipped about it all though. You knew what to say and what not to say if you wanted to keep your job.

And what was the stance of the NHL back then? What was the going response from the team when guys would get a concussion? You broke your eye socket in San Jose, right? When that happened, did it occur to you or the coaches that this could be something you'll deal with for the next fifteen years? 

No, not a clue. Our mentality back then, I sort of thought, you can't hurt me, you can't kill me, you can't affect me. I'm not sure if it was the same for you in the military, but if we got hurt, you might take a night or two, at most a week, to deal with the same injury that could take a regular person a few months.

You start to believe this story that you're a superhuman. My mentality was like, look, everyone is hurt, had broken hands, fucked up shoulders, so it was never that big of a deal.

And when it comes to brain injuries, no one is there telling you this stuff can really add up?

No. I'm not going to say these doctors didn't do their job or didn't care, but as a player, you know what to say and what not to say; and the doctors knew what conversations to avoid.

There's some of that going on in the military as well. I think it's better than it used to be, though. So, going back, you're picking up on these Vet experiences in your barbershop. How did the idea come about to start a non-profit based around outdoor experiences? 

Well, the non-profit actually existed back when I was playing, but there were a lot of policies back then about using the league to push different causes.

Around the time I stopped playing, my brain stuff was getting pretty serious, so Francesca got me hooked up with this doctor over at Anschutz Medical Center, a neurologist named Dr. James Kelly. The team didn't know about it; they had their own docs, but I needed someone I could go to and feel comfortable telling the truth. I had to try and figure this shit out.

So, this guy, Dr. Kelly, who were still close friends with today**, was a specialist in this type of stuff and was interested in doing research and studying the brains of guys like me, but you know, I was playing hockey, on the road half the time, so I didn't really have time to take part.

Anyway, he ends up leaving Denver, going to work at Walter Reed, and helping to stand up the National Intrepid Center of Excellence (NICoE).

He realized Veterans returning from Afghanistan and Iraq would be a better population pool to conduct this research with.

So, when I finish playing, he hits me up and says, "Hey Parks, I want you to come out here and be part of this program, " and I did. So a SEAL and I named Pete Scobell were two of the first people to go through the program. Do you know him? 

That's incredible. I know who he is, but not personally. I do know a bunch of guys who have been through that program though, unfortunately. 

While I was there, I got a few calls saying, "Hey, this guy is over at the hospital, he's a big hockey fan, and he just lost his legs," or whatever the case may be. So, I'd go over and introduce myself and hang out with the guys. It was a life-changing experience. 

That had a big impact on me, obviously, so after all that, I knew I wanted to keep going with Parker's Platoon and all the stuff we're doing now.

That's a great story, and you had the wherewithal to know that being up in the mountains and spending time outdoors was capable of healing? 

Oh yeah. We've been coming up here for about ten years now, almost immediately after I stopped playing. Before that, we had no clue how beneficial it was. I spent some time in Vail and Aspen or whatever, but not in the wilderness.

I just love that feeling of shutting off my snowmobile, and your senses kick in, just listening and being silent, you know? There's nothing like it.

That was something; when we had the barber shops, guys would come in super high-strung and always have this mix of frustration that was partially whatever happened overseas and partly whatever was going on at the VA, or in their marriage, or whatever. We'd get those guys up here, get them hiking 7 or 8 miles up and down some mountain, and their story becomes a lot clearer. A lot more focused on what matters.

I really appreciate that. I know what you're saying. 

This is supposed to be a safe space for guys to come and be around their tribe, you know? If you want to fish? Go ahead. Do you just want a quiet place, where you can get some rest? Go ahead. We just wanted to make a place where guys can come and be understood, I guess. We never have itineraries or a schedule.  

I know that means a lot to Vets. The Vet non-profit space has seen a lot of growth in the last few years, with a lot of different programs that provide different things all intended to be helpful. It's refreshing to know there's a place where guys or girls can come and sort of have the freedom to design their own experience. 

Thank you. Being outside has always been a big part of my life, even when I played hockey and had to live in a city. I stopped going to the gym maybe 5 years into my career. I just thought it was stupid. We had a ranch in Sedalia, and I would just do work for workouts. Find tasks to do on the ranch. Carry logs or do chainsaw work, ropes courses, build fences, or do stuff on the gun range.

People called them my "redneck workouts," but it was better. Everything we did for exercise took concentration and mental focus along with the physical. Lifting weights is almost all physical, you know? In a hockey game, it's 80/20, mental to physical.

You were doing this stuff mid-season? Instead of going to the gym? 

Yep, and once I retired, I never picked up another weight with a number on it again. I did a bunch of wild stuff because our strength and conditioning guys, you know, they're not really focused on my position, being an enforcer, I mean.

I used to wrap my hands in chains and punch trees. We used to have these bulls that would break fence lines and get into places where they weren't supposed to be. I would go out there and wrestle them back across the line for a workout.

When I watch hockey, that's sort of what I want to believe the guys are doing for workouts. One thing that's come up a good bit in this series is the concept of having so much of yourself wrapped up in being part of a unit or team, then once you move on, whether out of the military or away from a sports team, it's over. That quick change and re-mapping of identity really seems to catch up with guys at some point. Is that something you dealt with leaving pro-sports? 

Definitely, a lot of it for us is how focused you get on playing and winning. You used to have a piece of paper slid under your door every night detailing every single thing you had to do the next day and what time to do it, and that can go on for 15 years for some guys. Guys get out, and they don't know what to do with themselves.

I can imagine. What did you think you wanted to do with your life after hockey? How old were you when you hung it up? 

I was thirty. I had no idea. I figured I would play until I was in my mid-thirties or so. It was a mess at first. Thinking about that now, I don't know if it's the league's job to prepare us for life after hockey, but it seems like they could plant the seed at least. It's like hockey, hockey, hockey, then the next day, "Thanks for coming, see ya later."

My thing was just the camaraderie. That's what I missed the most. I think that's why the barbershops were so helpful. Then having the Veterans come in, led to this, what you see here. Francesca used to call me and say, "You gotta come down here; we have a guy here who needs some help.", and so that gave me purpose. Helping those guys, letting them know they're not alone. That's given me a lot of purpose. We used to have a jersey on the wall in the barbershop and for the guys going through the brain stuff, I'd always point to it and say, "Different team, same mission."

Well, listen, not just as a Vet myself, but as a person, it's really cool what you guys have built up here and all the things you're doing for TBI recovery. I really appreciate it. Thank you. I'll ask you one last question, same question I've asked everyone, what do you think you would want a guy to know, who’s maybe a year from leaving the NHL, same kind of guy you were back in the day? 

Oh man that’s tough. I guess I would tell them how much life there is on the other side, you know? That body that they’ve been using and abusing, their marriage, their kids, all that stuff is still there when hockey is over; so take care of it. Invest some time in it you know?

Absolutely man, thanks for doing this.

* More information on NICoE can be found here.

* * Dr. Kelly now serves as the ED At the Marcus Institue of Brain Health

The TRANSITION and the content within is not medical advice. If you require diagnosis or treatment for a mental or physical issue or illness, please seek it from a licensed professional. If life threatening, call (800)273-8255