Only the Lord Saves More: R.I.P. Philadelphia’s Immortal Goalie Bernie Parent

Sixteen days. That’s all it took for hockey to lose the holy trinity of 1970s goaltenders. First Ken Dryden, then Eddie Giacomin, and now Bernie Parent. Three men who defined an era of netminding, gone in just over two weeks.

And when it comes to Bernie, you could argue no athlete ever inspired a better bumper sticker than the one that plastered the bumpers of Chevys and Buicks all over Philadelphia during the Flyers’ glory years: “Only The Lord Saves More than Bernie Parent.” It was funny, it was bold, and it was true—at least if you were talking about glove saves in the Stanley Cup Final.

Bernard Marcel Parent, born April 3, 1945, in Rosemont, Quebec, stood in the crease like a brick wall with a French accent. Over 13 NHL seasons with the Bruins, Maple Leafs, and Flyers , plus a cameo in the WHA ,he carved out a career that ranks among the greatest any goaltender has ever produced. His masterpiece came in back-to-back seasons with the Flyers in 1973–74 and 1974–75, when he won the Vezina, the Conn Smythe, and—most importantly two Stanley Cups. Thirty shutouts in those two years, clutch performances in Cup-clinching games, and a city that would never forget him. Philadelphia made him immortal, and the Hockey Hall of Fame made it official in 1984.

Parent was the last great stand-up goalie, a disciple of Jacques Plante who combined calm technical skill with an almost reckless ability to stare down shooters. His career ended too soon in 1979 after a freak eye injury, but by then he’d already built a legacy strong enough to hang from the rafters literally. His number one sweater still waves above the ice in Philly, a reminder of when the Broad Street Bullies were kings.

He wasn’t just a player, though. Parent battled through personal struggles after the game, came out the other side, and became not just a Flyers ambassador but a beloved figure in Philadelphia sports. Decades after he retired, fans still greeted him with chants of “Bernie! Bernie!” like it was 1975 all over again.

Now he’s gone, passing away peacefully at 80. But the legend of Bernie Parent—the saves, the Cups, the charisma will last as long as hockey itself.

Back in 2012, I had the privilege of sitting down with Parent on Sportstalkny to talk about his book Bernie Parent: Unmasked. Reading through that conversation now feels less like an interview and more like a time capsule—Bernie reflecting with humor, gratitude, and that famous twinkle in his voice.

I asked him about Bobby Clarke’s famous line in the book’s foreword: “Every guy in that roster could have been replaced except for one, and that was Bernie.” Parent deflected the praise like he used to stop slapshots: “That’s a great compliment. You know what, it’s nice of Bob to say this, but when you look at our team, it was well put together by Keith Allen. We had a good team. He brought in the right players, and the chemistry was awesome. And Bobby was such a great leader. If you look at sports in general, different sports, you look at teams who win championships, they all have that great leadership, and we sure had that with Bobby.”

Of course, no conversation with Bernie was complete without his catchphrase, “Some fun, eh?” It came from a long-lost Industrial Valley Bank commercial where, as he put it, “I couldn’t speak English very well at the time, and I did a few commercials for the bank. And by the way, it was very successful… We had the bank club, everybody in windbreakers, you know, the Flyers colors, and we had a lot of fun doing this.”

But fun wasn’t always the word Bernie used to describe life in the crease. “It’s like walking on the edge of a cliff 1,000 feet high,” he told me. “If the forward makes a mistake, a defenseman could recover. If the defenseman makes a mistake, the goalie could recover. But if you make a mistake as a goalie, then the red light goes on… Every game, you’re on the edge all the time. But having said that, the rewards—this is why I believe more people should live on the edge in life. It doesn’t mean you’re going to win all the time, but when you do, the rewards are fantastic.”

Parent’s own path was built on risks, starting with his boyhood idol, Jacques Plante. “When I was a kid, I used to watch Saturday night hockey in Canada. I’d watch him, and I said, that’s what I want to do. His sister lived next door to us, and once every summer he’d come over. I’d watch him from the window—I was too scared to meet him. Then when I got traded to Toronto, little did I know I was going to spend two years with him. One day I asked him if he would teach me his wisdom and knowledge about openings. And that’s what turned my whole career around.”

Years later, Parent found out he had become the Plante to a new generation. “When you have a goalie like Mike Richter, who grew up in Pennsylvania, to speak kind words towards me like this—there’s a lot to be grateful for.”

Even as a kid from Montreal, sent at 16 to play juniors in Niagara Falls, Parent understood the risks. “I got my suitcase, got on the train by myself, and went to Niagara Falls. I asked myself many times, why did I go? And it took me a lot of years to get the answer. My purpose was to play in the National Hockey League. I tell kids all the time—you have to take risks in life and face fear. If I would have stayed home and played it safe, I would have missed out on that beautiful journey.”

That journey included everything from being left unprotected in the expansion draft—“A friend of mine said, hey, you got picked up by Philadelphia. At the time I said, oh really? Where’s Philadelphia?”—to taking a leap into the unknown with the brand-new World Hockey Association. Without a contract with the Leafs for the 1972–73 season, Parent signed a big deal with the Miami Screaming Eagles, becoming the first NHL player to jump to the new league. The Eagles never got off the ground, so Parent wound up with the Philadelphia Blazers, where he faced a barrage of shots in 63 regular-season games for the defensively challenged club. After a contract dispute during the 1973 WHA playoffs, he sought a return to the NHL but had no interest in going back to Toronto. The Leafs traded his rights back to the Flyers in exchange for goalie Doug Favell and a first-round pick in the 1973 amateur draft.

And then came the magic: back-to-back Stanley Cups in ’74 and ’75, two Vezinas, two Conn Smythes, 30 shutouts in two seasons, and a parade of more than two million Philadelphians. Bernie remained humble. “Any individual awards let’s face it, it’s a team game. You don’t do this on a bad team. I just happened to end up in Philly when the team was ready to win, with good defensive players and great leadership.”

He knew why those teams were loved in Philly, a city that booed Santa Claus. “We had a lot of players with charisma. To be appreciated like this, you need that. We had Schultz, MacLeish, Dupont, Clarke… we had every kind of personality. And we won.”

His career ended abruptly in 1979 after a freak eye injury. “I never had a chance to wave goodbye to the crowd,” he said softly. Decades later, he did get that chance, suiting up one last time in the Winter Classic Alumni Game. “It was the first time I put the equipment on in 30-some years. I was scared. But after about five minutes, I was fortunate to make a couple of saves, and then I waved to the crowd. That was rewarding, a beautiful time.”

When I told Bernie that as a Rangers fan I hated him, he laughed—and he understood that was the ultimate compliment. He left the game as one of hockey’s greats, but he carried himself with humility, humor, and gratitude. As he said more than once: “Some fun, eh?”

And for Bernie Parent, it sure was.

Here is the full interview from 2012 :