For Love of the Game An Appreciation of Tom Parr ... - Hopkins School

teach. As his 1986 Per Annos dedication noted: “A
philosophy for the student is the philosophy of this
teaching.” At one point I asked him, “Why Hopkins?
There are certainly schools with higher powered football
programs, no? His reply: “I don’t want just to be a coach;
I loved the way Hopkins would allow me to teach and
coach all at once.’
An Emblematic Moment
To get a full and to-the-core sense of Tom’s philosophy
and understanding, stand with me about twenty years
ago on the sidelines of a beautiful fall day when the
sights and sounds of uniformed mayhem stir the
adrenaline. Football is a game that is vulnerable to
excess— from players and fans and, especially, coaches.
In the third quarter of a very important high-stakes game,
against what was at the time a fierce rival, Kingswood-
Oxford, the score slightly against Hopkins, the tension
high, Tom turned away from the game for several
precious moments to give his full attention to gaze to a
blanket a few feet from him and the sideline. On the
blanket, his wife Debbie and two sons, Gary and Dana,
playing with adolescent absorption. Now Tom is awfully
I don’t want just to be a coach;
I loved the way Hopkins
would allow me to teach
and coach all at once.
good at concentrating on his coaching, but he took an
intimate time out that day to be a father, a moment more
of us Dads should emulate. As I watched this remarkable
moment, I saw him smile slightly, take a breath, then turn
his attention back to the game. Are there things more
important than football, than sports, than winning? That
day, on the sideline of that crucial game, when most
coaches would have been utterly consumed with the
game they had to win, Tom gave his attention to what is
even closer to his heart.
During my own years as Athletic Director, I learned that
the most treacherous hiring, when a mistake could do
the most damage to our student athletes, involved three
coaching positions: wrestling, lacrosse, and football.
Those three positions seem to attract the most extreme
7 S P R I N G 2 0 0 7
temperaments. But scenes
like the one above left me
completely at ease with
Tom. Had my son played
football, I would have
wanted him to play under
Tom.
The Advocate
At Hopkins all teachers and
coaches are always
advising, teaching outside
the classroom and the
curriculum, guiding students in the arts of living and
becoming decent human beings. But I especially recall
Tom’s work as an adviser with a young person very close
to me: my daughter. Now advising sometimes means
that we must dare to question parents about the
demands they are making on their children or to ask
them to think again about what may be “best” for them.
It is audacious to step into that parent-child relationship,
but if we care about our young charges, we have to take
the risk. Which brings me to a conversation Tom initiated
with me: “You know, maybe you are being too hard on
Daniéle; maybe you should just back off a little
sometimes. Maybe you should give her a little more
room.” All of this in that voice of his, soft, sincere, but
also earnest, with a hint of admonition—very convincing.
And I was not only a parent but also a colleague—double
jeopardy! Tom thought enough of my daughter’s welfare
to put our relationship at risk. Of course he was entirely
right, and I tried to “back off.” Moreover, his example
encouraged me to show the same conviction and
courage more often as an advocate for students. In this
most personal way, Tom modeled belief and behavior, not
just for his students, but for us, his colleagues, as well.
Thanks, Tom.
Editor’s Note:
Jim and Tom found themselves coaching together again
when the need for a Girls Varsity Basketball coach surfaced
this past winter. Jim described it as “just like old times,
coaching with Vintage Tom, the True Believer, the enthusiast
dispersing optimism.”