“Only the Lord Saves More Than Bernie!” An Interview with Philadelphia Flyers Hall of Fame Goaltender Bernie Parent

Parent poses in his Flyers uniform in this photo from a shoot for an O-Pee-Chee hockey trading card in the mid-1970s.
O-Pee-Chee / Hockey Hall of Fame

On Tuesday evening, May 27, 1975, the Philadelphia Flyers, defending National Hockey League (NHL) Champions, faced the Buffalo Sabres in Game 6 of the Stanley Cup Finals at Buffalo’s Memorial Stadium. Philadelphia enjoyed a three-games-to-two lead in the best-of-seven series and they were determined to clinch their second straight championship that night.

The Flyers, better known as the “Broad Street Bullies” for their aggressively physical play, were led by their fiercely competitive goaltender, Bernie Parent, who hated to be scored on. He was even known to throw his stick at teammates who slipped the puck by him in practice.

At the same time, Bernie felt the pressure of being the greatest goaltender in the world and had a flippant way of handling it. After games, sportswriters would gather around Parent, a native of Montreal, Quebec, to hear what it was like to stop a hard rubber puck aimed at his head traveling 120 mph and he’d say, “Some fun, eh?”

On this hot, muggy late spring evening in Buffalo, Bernie was ready to wage battle more focused than ever before. That night he turned back 32 scoring attempts as Sabres forwards rained shot after shot on him in an all-out effort to tie the series. The greatest threat came late in the second period when Parent stopped offensive linemen Gilbert Perreault and Rick Martin on a two-against-one breakaway.

“Shot!” screamed Flyers’ broadcaster Gene Hart into his microphone as thousands of Philadelphia fans held their breath. “Save by Parent . . . and he hangs on! Oh baby!”

The dramatic save by Parent took the energy out of Buffalo and confirmed what Flyers fans had been saying for the last two years, “Only the Lord saves more than Bernie!”

Philadelphia scored two third-period goals to clinch their second straight championship, 2–0, becoming the last Stanley Cup champions to be composed solely of Canadian players.

During those two championship seasons, Bernie Parent established himself as the greatest goaltender in the world. In 1973–74, Parent appeared in 73 games in a 78-game schedule, leading the NHL with a 1.89 goals against average, a .933 save percentage and 12 shutouts with another 18 shutout victories in the postseason. His remarkable performance earned him the Veniza Trophy, which went to the goaltender on the team allowing the fewest goals against in the regular season. Bernie was also named the first-team all-star goaltender and won the Conn Smythe Trophy, or playoff MVP, when the Flyers defeated the Boston Bruins for the first of their two Stanley Cup championships.

The following year, 1974–75, Parent posted another 12 shutouts with a 2.03 goals against average and a .918 save percentage. He won another Vezina Trophy, another first-team all-star selection, and a second Conn Smythe Trophy and Stanley Cup. Parent was so popular that his face, albeit behind a white fiberglass hockey mask, graced the cover of Time magazine’s February 24, 1975, issue that featured a six-page spread titled, “Courage and Fear in a Vortex of Violence.”

None of those accolades came easily, though. Parent worked extremely hard to earn them. He began his career with the Boston Bruins in the 1965–66 season when he appeared in 39 games. The next season he split time between Boston and the Bruins’ farm club in Oklahoma. Left unprotected for the 1967 NHL Expansion Draft, Parent was selected by the Philadelphia Flyers where he and Doug Favell shared goaltending duties. During the next two seasons, Bernie became the Flyers’ first-string goalie and performed impressively with save percentages of .925 and .921.

Lacking the offensive clout to be more competitive, the Flyers dealt Parent to the Toronto Maple Leafs in 1971 in a three-way transaction that enabled Philadelphia to acquire forward Rick MacLeish and winger Danny Schock from the Boston Bruins. Although Bernie was saddened by the trade, it turned out to be a blessing for him.

In Toronto, Parent joined his boyhood hero, Jacques Plante, who at 42 was having an all-star season. Under Plante’s mentoring, Bernie became a more consistent and technically proficient goalie. He played well for the Maple Leafs through the 1971–72 season but was not re-signed by Toronto for the next season.

In 1972 Parent became the first NHL player to jump to the newly formed World Hockey League where he joined the Philadelphia Blazers. After leaving the team over a contract dispute during the 1973 WHA playoffs, Bernie sought a return to the NHL but did not want to go back to the Maple Leafs. As a result, Toronto traded his NHL rights back to the Flyers who went on to win two straight Stanley Cup titles with Parent in goal.

On October 11, 1979, Parent’s jersey, number 1, was retired by the Flyers; in 1984 Parent was inducted into the National Hockey League’s Hall of Fame; and in 1998 he was ranked number 63 by The Hockey News on its list of the 100 greatest NHL players of all-time.

In this interview, Bernie Parent discusses his boyhood in Montreal, NHL career, championship seasons with Philadelphia’s “Broad Street Bullies,” coaching career, and his later years as a beloved Philadelphia sports icon. Sadly, he passed away on September 21, 2025, as this article went into production.

Growing up in Montreal in the 1950s, you played several sports but chose to focus on ice hockey. Why play goalie, though?

When I was growing up we played hockey in the streets because it stayed cold a long time and the ice didn’t melt. I was 12 years old before I played in an organized league. The coach had everybody skate around the rink while he timed us with a stopwatch. And then he’d say, “forward” or “defenseman,” depending upon how fast we were. The average time was 14 seconds. It took me 21 seconds to get around the rink. The coach grabbed me and said, “You’re my goaltender!”

One of my biggest thrills as a boy was on Christmas when my parents gave me a set of goalie pads. I was so excited I put the pads on over my pajamas, grabbed my goalie stick, and went out in the backyard. I stood in front of the net my brothers had set up for me and pretended to be Jacques Plante, my boyhood hero. Making great saves.

Parent began his NHL career playing for the Boston Bruins, 1965–1967.
James McCarthy / Hockey Hall of Fame

You began your National Hockey League career in 1965 with the Boston Bruins, the oldest NHL team in the United States dating to 1924. What was it like to play for the Bruins?

My two-year stay with Boston got off to a great start. I was given credit for transforming the Bruins into a playoff contender. Of course, by “playoff contender” they meant “fourth place” because the Bruins had finished last for five years in a row. By the end of my second season in Boston, things weren’t so good. Most of the problems were my own fault.

Playing for Boston was a tough experience because I was a kid on a team with mainly older veterans. I was too young to handle the pressure. There were a lot of temptations around Boston then for a young hockey player. I was 20 years old and making pretty good money. It wasn’t an easy situation to handle. I didn’t know how to pick my spots to have fun.

I was playing so bad that the Boston fans were booing me and throwing things at me, too. Quite a change from the year before. I couldn’t blame them, either. We were out of the playoff picture by Christmas. We had built up their hopes the year before. Now we were letting them down.

I was sent down and finished the season in Oklahoma. When the NHL’s first expansion draft was held in June 1967, the Bruins decided to protect their other two goaltenders, Gerry Cheevers and Eddie Johnson. Philadelphia drafted me as its first pick.

When you joined the Flyers in 1967, they were one of the NHL’s six expansion teams, all of whom were hampered by restrictive rules that kept major talent with the “Original Six” teams [Boston Bruins, Chicago Blackhawks, Detroit Red Wings, Montreal Canadiens, New York Rangers and Toronto Maple Leafs]. Most of the players made available to the Flyers were either aging veterans or career minor-leaguers before expansion occurred. With those disadvantages, how was Philadelphia able to win the Western Division that year?

We were young with a few older guys sprinkled throughout the roster like Ed Van Impe and Leon Rochefort. We also had some swift little French guys with André Lacroix, Jean-Guy Gendron and Simon Nolet. Doug Favell and I were the goaltenders. Believe it or not, halfway through the season, Favell and I were leading the Vezina Trophy race. Our combined goals against average was slightly above 2.00. But that’s not why we went to the playoffs.

We won because we were a team. Not a bunch of individuals, but a team. And we played like a team. We also had a great crowd who supported us. Seventeen thousand people sat in those stands every game. They were part of our team, too. When the roof blew off the Spectrum [Philadelphia’s indoor arena] that February, we had to play the rest of the regular season as a road team. Our home games were played in Toronto, New York and Quebec City. And we even had fans who traveled to watch us play in those cities!

When the regular season ended, only six points separated the first five teams in the division. We finished first, just barely below .500 at 31–32–11.

How did the Flyers do in the playoffs that season?

We wound up playing the St. Louis Blues, another expansion team. They were big and tough with guys like the Plager brothers, Barclay and Bob, plus Noel Picard. They beat us up on the ice and on the scoreboard. We managed to split the first six games. Game seven was in Philly, and St. Louis brought in [future Hall of Fame defenseman] Doug Harvey. He was 43 years old at the time, but he still had enough left to control the pace of the game. He even had an assist on the winning goal. That was a tough one to lose.

Why did the Flyers trade you in 1971 to the Toronto Maple Leafs for forward Mike Walton, veteran goaltender Bruce Gamble, and their first-round pick in the draft?

The Flyers needed offense, and they had to trade a goalie to get scoring. It was as simple as that from a business standpoint. Personally, it was devastating. I cried like a baby when I got the news. [Flyers’ president] Ed Snider said it was the toughest trade he had to make. Even Doug Favell, who split time in goal with me, was shook up.

One thing that really touched me was after the trade happened, some fans brought a banner to the Spectrum and hung it over the balcony. It read, “Without a Parent, We’re Orphans.” I was very moved by that.

During the 1971–72 season, you joined your boyhood hero, goaltender Jacques Plante, on the Toronto Maple Leafs. Plante became a mentor to you. What did he teach you that made you a more consistent and technically proficient goalie?

Jacques was 43 years old and nearing the end of his career when I was traded to Toronto. He didn’t have an outgoing personality. You could say he was a loner. He kept to himself a lot. But I was humble enough to ask for help and a trust developed between us.

Spending one year with Plante was like gaining three years of experience. He really taught me how to stand up and play the angles against different shooters. He improved my balance by shifting all my weight onto my right foot, not the left, during a play. He also taught me how to find my exact position by banging my stick or my glove against the posts. I used to take my eyes off the puck to see where I was, and that can cost you a goal.

What I learned most from Plante, though, was to anticipate. I’d study the opposition. If a guy was a left-handed shot, I’d study how my defensemen played him. Once I knew that, I’d put myself in position to make the save. If a guy was shooting from the point, he’s going to look for an open spot. Put yourself in the shooter’s mind, cover the opening, get there, make the save. That’s anticipation, being in the right spot at the right time.

Why did you choose to leave the NHL to play for the Philadelphia Blazers of the new World Hockey Association in 1972? Why did you leave the Blazers during the WHA playoffs in 1973?

It was a calculated risk on my part. I had expected to be with the Maple Leafs for a long time. But I also wanted to make more money than the $25,000 they were paying me. The Blazers offered me a lot more money. The deal was for five years for $75,000. But once I started playing for the Blazers it was disappointing.

The caliber of play in the WHA wasn’t even close to that of the NHL that first year. We also had to play at the Philadelphia Civic Center, an old building in West Philadelphia near the University of Pennsylvania. Hockey was never meant to be played there. There was a problem with the ice surface from the very start and the playing area was too narrow. We also wound up playing in front of 500 or 600 people when I was accustomed to playing in front of 18,000. I missed the fans and the atmosphere they created in the NHL. The crowd, especially in your home rink, lifted you to a higher level.

When the Blazers reneged on paying me my guaranteed money, I had no other alternative than to leave the team.

Parent waits patiently among dropped gloves and sticks as the Flyers and St. Louis Blues scuffle, January 1977.
Courtesy of the Special Collections Research Center, Temple University Libraries, Philadelphia

Sportswriters Jack Chevalier and Pete Cafone of the Philadelphia Bulletin gave the Flyers the colorful nickname “Broad Street Bullies” during the 1972–73 season. Aside from yourself, which players inspired the nickname by their physically aggressive play?

Fighting has always been a part of hockey. It’s a fast-paced game, a hitting game, and guys get frustrated at times. When someone knocks you down, grabs your stick, and puts an elbow in your face, you want to stand up for yourself. That’s when fights start.

As a goalie, I seldom fought. But I was part of the team and understood our image. I got involved a few times. I’d skate down to the other end, grab the other goalie by the shirt, and hold on tight. But there were other guys on the team who played the role of enforcer.

[Left winger] Dave Schultz always kept things in order because he was willing to fight, home or away. If someone delivered a cheap shot to one of our skill guys, 99 percent of the time it was Schultzie who responded. He loved to fight. It was his passion. He still holds the NHL record for penalty minutes in a single season with 472. Schultzie just knew that to make it in the NHL he’d have to play tough because he was not as skilled as other players.

[Winger] Bob Kelly was another enforcer. We gave him the nickname “Mad Dog” because of his reckless style of play. There was also [Defenseman] André Dupont, who we called “Moose.” He was a big ball of energy, who just hammered opponents. Both those guys were tough, aggressive hockey players. Together with Schultzie, they were the core of the Broad Street Bullies.

Why did the Flyers adopt such a physical style of play when all the other NHL teams were known for their passing and speed in the 1970s? Did the Flyers lack those same abilities?

People always ask me about the Broad Street Bullies and whether we actually had the skill to be Stanley Cup champions. My answer is always the same: We had a good combination of toughness and skill.

Tell us about Bobby Clarke, one of the greatest performers in NHL history, who won awards for both sportsmanship and the NHL’s Most Valuable Player Award in 1973, 1975 and 1976?

Bobby was our captain, the youngest one in the NHL. He was the greatest leader I’d ever played with. He was also a very caring person. Combine those two qualities — leadership and caring — and you have a super individual. He never yelled in a room. He said things calmly and quietly. Mostly he talked to guys one-on-one if he felt they weren’t performing at the level they should. He would not embarrass anyone by pointing a finger.

Clarke’s work habits were incredible. They elevated the entire team. He set the tone for the way we played. He could also defend himself in a fight. There was nothing cowardly about him. If someone cheap-shotted him and his teammates stepped in, it was to make sure he didn’t get hurt because his leadership was so important to the team.

I’m sure his work ethic and toughness came from growing up in the mining town of Flin Flon in Manitoba, Canada.”

Flyers team captain Bobby Clarke, coach Fred Shero and Parent pose with the Stanley Cup after the team’s second consecutive championship.
Courtesy of the Special Collections Research Center, Temple University Libraries, Philadelphia

What about Flyers’ head coach Fred Shero, who was known for his enigmatic and introverted personality? How was he able to coach such a gruff team like the Broad Street Bullies?

Freddie Shero never cursed. He got his point across quietly. Between periods he would say, without naming names, that we got beat on a goal because someone was lazy getting back. The guys all knew who he was talking about.

Shero was a master at dealing with different personalities. He was compassionate, and the players knew that, so they listened to him. He was also very humble, which is why he would go and hide when we won the Cup, letting the spotlight shine on the players because that’s where he felt it belonged.

You’ve often said that you revere Ed Snider, the former chairman of Comcast Spectacor, a Philadelphia-based sports and entertainment company and the original owner of the Flyers. Why?

Ed Snider was an exceptional person. A real visionary. Because he did not have the money to purchase an NHL team, he put together a group of four investors and promised each one that he would not only pay them back but make them a profit. And he did just that. He was a man of his word.

Ed was also different from most owners because he got involved with the players. Many owners don’t really care about the players. The team was either a toy or just a business to them. While Ed Snider was a businessman, he also cared about his players as human beings. If you had a problem, he was there to listen and help you out. Ed respected the players, too. He never criticized the players in public. We might have had differences, but we kept them private. It just made us want to win games for an owner like that.

I have a photo of Ed holding the Stanley Cup after we won it in 1974, and every morning I kiss that picture and thank him for giving us the opportunity to make it happen. I really loved that man.

On May 19, 1975, the Flyers played the sixth and deciding game of the Stanley Cup finals against the Boston Bruins at Philadelphia’s Spectrum. With less than three minutes to play, you stopped a savage slapshot from Ken Hodge with a classic kick save. It turned out to be the Bruins’ 30th and last shot. Your save preserved the 1–0 shutout and the championship-clinching victory. Did you feel any sense of vindication having begun your NHL career with the Bruins in 1965?

That is a good question. I always had great respect for the Bruins and their players like Hodge, Phil Esposito and Bobby Orr. I never really thought about vindication, though. After all, Boston gave me my first opportunity to play in the NHL.

You know there was another moment in that game that I’ll never forget. It came in the last 10 seconds of play. The crowd was on its feet cheering, anticipating the Flyers’ victory. The face-off was in Boston’s end. The referee dropped the puck. It went to Bobby Orr and he shot the puck down the ice. At that moment I was looking at the clock. Then, all of a sudden, I heard the puck hit the post behind me. I never saw it! If that puck hit the net, it would have scored and tied the game sending it into overtime. I thank the Lord for making that save for me!

Philadelphia sports fans had been desperate for a championship by 1974 when the Flyers became the first expansion team to win the Stanley Cup. The 76ers had not won an NBA title since 1967. The Eagles had not won an NFL championship since 1960, and the Phillies had never won a World Series title. Predictably, 2 million people turned out for the parade down Broad Street to celebrate the Flyers’ first Stanley Cup victory. What do you remember about the parade? How did Flyers fans treat you?

The first parade, after we beat Boston in 1974, was unbelievable. A couple hundred thousand people were expected. Instead, the crowd was estimated at a couple million. I’ll never forget the sight of looking out over Independence Mall and seeing wall-to-wall people. It was just incredible.

I wish I were smart enough to understand why the people in Philly liked us so much. I know they hadn’t had a winning professional team for a long time before we won the first Stanley Cup. Everybody loves a winner. But there we were — a bunch of Canadians — who became almost part of the family to millions of Philadelphians.

Some fans even came up with a bumper sticker that read, “Only the Lord Saves More Than Bernie Parent.” All I know is that their support kept us going. They were part of our team and a major reason we won those two Stanley Cup championships. There was a real warmth between the Flyers and their fans that continues to this day.

Following their win against the Boston Bruins for the Stanley Cup on May 20, 1974, Clarke and Parent parade through the Spectrum carrying the trophy, with the team in tow.
Courtesy of the Special Collections Research Center, Temple University Libraries, Philadelphia

You retired from the NHL in 1979, when at age 34 you were still in your athletic prime for a goaltender. Why?

It was a Saturday afternoon, February 17, 1979, and we were playing a game against the New York Rangers. Our defenseman Jimmy Watson was on the ice trying to move the Rangers’ Don Maloney out from in front of the net and they collided. I turned to watch the puck going from my left to the right and at that moment Watson’s hockey stick came up and slashed through the right eye slit of my mask. I felt intense pain and then everything went dark. It was a freak accident. My right eye had been pushed back into the socket and had irreversible damage. For nearly two weeks I was blind in both eyes, which was caused by the shock. My vision eventually came back, but the tendons in my right eye were severely damaged and my depth perception was affected. There was no way I could play goal with one good eye, so my career was over.

After retirement, you spent several years in the Flyers’ organization as a goaltending coach, mentoring future Vezina-winning goalies Ron Hextall and the late Pelle Lindbergh, who idolized you as a youngster. What was that experience like?

It was awesome. Goalies are a different breed, you know. Goalies stand on a very lonely island. It takes one to know one. That’s why I decided to coach. Ron and Pelle were two great goalies. We had a foundation to build on. We developed a trust between us. They gave a sense of purpose to my life at a time when I needed it.

One of the saddest days of my life came on November 11, 1985. I received a phone call at 2:00 am from a hospital in New Jersey. Pelle had been in a car accident. He was declared brain dead and placed on life support. His parents asked me to come to the hospital to say goodbye. When I got there, I walked into Pelle’s room, sat down next to his bed, and held his hand. That’s when he passed away. He was just 26 years old. I thank the Lord for that opportunity to say goodbye to him.

You are among the most beloved sports icons in Philadelphia and still live in the region. What are you doing these days to remain involved with the Flyers and Philadelphia’s sports fans?

I’m involved with the Flyers Alumni and the Flyers’ youth hockey program, which was established by Ed Snider to teach youngsters the game as well as important life lessons and empower them to build healthy, happy, productive lives. My wife Gini and I have also been involved in several charities in the Delaware Valley, including St. Christopher’s Hospital, the Pennsylvania SPCA, and the Ed Snider Youth Hockey Association.

I especially like meeting the kids. I show them my Stanley Cup rings and encourage them to pursue their dreams. I want them to know that there are times in life that are going to be dark, but you can’t quit. Keep pushing and eventually you will achieve those dreams.

Further Reading

Chevalier, Jack. The Broad Street Bullies: The Incredible Story of the Philadelphia Flyers. New York: Collier, 1974. / Parent, Bernie, with Bill Fleischman and Sonny Schwartz. Bernie! Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall, 1975. / Parent, Bernie, with Michele Paiva and Dean Smith. Journey Through Risk and Fear. Balletsa, 2011. / Parent, Bernie, with Stan Hochman. Unmasked: Bernie Parent and the Broad Street Bullies. Chicago: Triumph Books, 2012.

William C. Kashatus, a resident of Paoli, is a regular contributor to Pennsylvania Heritage and the author of more than two dozen books on sports, biography, and Pennsylvania history. He would like to thank Gini Parent for her assistance in scheduling this interview.