Coaching concurrence

This summer, the smile that has perpetually creased the face of Jerry York was often replaced by a frown. The Boston College men's hockey coach learned he had prostate cancer.

Dr. Stephen Ranere, York's primary care physician, had detected it early, and a late-July date was set for York's prostate to be removed. Still, amid the supportive calls that flooded his Watertown home, York worried.

There was one call that stood out, from Dr. Aram Chobanian, the former interim president at Boston University and dean of the BU School of Medicine. Chobanian, who had been informed of York's condition, assured the coach that he would be fine and that his doctors, whom Chobanian knew, were the perfect men to oversee the procedure.

Jack Parker, York's archrival, had asked Chobanian to call the BC coach.

''When you hear something like that, all the other stuff -- winning, losing, the competition -- is unimportant," Parker said of York's illness.

Jack vs. Jerry. They have tangled for decades, battling for wins and tugging at the same prospects. The brash Parker and the humble York stand on opposite benches, but they share a battleground -- the slot -- where elbows fly, sticks are slashed, and the two fight for the space for one.

Yet the two 60-year-old coaches, who were born in 1945 a town apart (Parker in Somerville, York in Watertown) and have known each other since high school, have become closer than ever. They met last month for lunch in Brookline, although the deli York originally picked had closed, to the amusement of both.

As they enter the third period of their respective careers, they've both experienced events that have affected their remaining years in college hockey. York fought cancer. In January, Parker capped a multiyear project when he opened BU's new home at Agganis Arena.

Each has won two national championships. Each has coached seven first-round NHL picks. There's not much left for either to accomplish, which raises the prospect of the unthinkable: BU and BC without the men who have personified their programs.

Father knows best
Mike Cavanaugh became acquainted with York 13 years ago at Crankers, a former coffee shop on the Bowling Green campus where the graduate assistant coach watched his boss glad-hand everybody in the joint. Aside from two years he spent as an assistant at Dartmouth, Cavanaugh has been with York ever since, which made the shock even more profound when he heard the news of his mentor's illness.

''It's like your dad getting diagnosed with something and you don't want to believe it," Cavanaugh said.

York has been another father to many. Unassuming since his days as a BC High schoolboy star and captain at BC, York used that modesty to develop trust with his players -- and just as important, with players' parents when he was recruiting. As a 26-year-old, York brought that approach to Clarkson as coach of the Golden Knights, then took it to Bowling Green, where his club won the 1984 national championship.

Since 1994, he has been back in Chestnut Hill, shaping BC into a national power. Despite losing 11 players from last year's team, York's Eagles were picked as the preseason Hockey East favorite. His success, however, hasn't changed the person whom friends call Yorkie. His players are his boys, who regularly shave their faces because their coach insists and rarely forget to remove their hats in formal settings.

''Jerry is a class guy," said New Hampshire coach Dick Umile. ''He motivates through respect. His players respect him for who he is."

Which is why Andrew Alberts, the four-year BC defenseman who played his first NHL game as a Bruin Wednesday, emailed York when he heard about his former coach's illness. His father, Dale, had experienced prostate cancer, too, and the elder Alberts called York, reminding him to heed his doctor's advice and assuring him of a quick recovery.

''I think cancer definitely changes you," York said. ''All of a sudden, you feel more susceptible. You go from being immortal to mortal pretty quick."

On July 29, Dr. Frank McGovern removed York's prostate. Later this month, York will undergo a blood test to check his prostate-specific antigen numbers. He has been skating and recently began jogging and lifting light weights.

''I've always thought heaven's a great place, but I kind of like it here," York said. ''I appreciate that even more. I've got a good spot here. It's a nice place to be. Maybe I value that a little more now."

This year, York has the challenge of incorporating 10 freshmen into the lineup. The Eagles won the Hockey East tournament championship and regular-season title last year before losing to North Dakota in the NCAA Tournament East Regional final. While York, a member of Watertown's Oakley Country Club, still has his golf bag in his office, he's full-bore on hockey, even fooling with line combinations and defensive pairings during his recovery time.

York recently signed a six-year extension and he intends to remain at BC for the contract's duration. York said that while his goal is to win national championships, his illness has underscored his calling as another father to his players.

''At this school, if you do things right, everything's in place to win championships," York said. ''But I also want to make it a great experience for the player and make the quality of his three or four years here even better for him. When he finishes and he can say he had a terrific experience those four years, I'd like to focus on that, as well as win another national championship before I retire."

Sailing as salve
This summer, Parker took delivery of a new 40-foot sailboat, which he named Arts and Letters. Parker recently told the story of how the boat got its name. In 1969, Parker's father, Gerard, died of a heart attack. At his funeral, several of his friends presented his widow with an envelope containing $485. The friends informed Gerard's wife that her husband (a ''gambler," his son said) had gone out a winner by picking the fastest horse of the Belmont Stakes: Arts and Letters.

Sailing, which Parker discovered in the 1980s with help from former assistant Ben Smith, has replenished the energy that leaks from his body during the winter. During the season, he barely sleeps after each game. Instead, he watches the game film twice, taking advantage of time he would otherwise spend tossing in his bed.

''People always say in July or August, 'Gee Jack, you look great,' " Parker said. ''I tell them, 'You should look at me in March.' "

That's when his cheeks are drawn and he's racked by a season-long cough; his throat, still scarred from years of smoking, is raspy from yelling at referees. His stomach churns and his mind races with questions about how to get a line jump-started, whether to bench an underperforming player, and if he's been too negative with his team.

That last concern could have been Parker's downfall. He was mentored by Jack Kelley, a hard-charging, no-nonsense coach who insisted on doing things his way. Parker molded his style on Kelley's, never delegating to his assistants and reeking of negativity whenever his players stumbled.

After an 11-17 season in 1979-80 and a 14-15 season the year after, Parker realized his way wasn't working. He started to mellow, consulting his assistants more and slapping his players on their backs instead of screaming in their faces. He found sailing. His players became his friends. Scott Lachance, who starred at BU in 1990-91, even became his son-in-law when the defenseman married Parker's daughter, Jacqueline.

''It's difficult for me to articulate the impact he's had on me as a person, player, and coach," said Bruins coach Mike Sullivan. ''He's the common denominator. He's the tie that brings all the players from all the years back, and, for me, that's a great thing."

In recent years, Parker has had another task. Since 1997, the last year BU won the Hockey East tournament, Parker has missed out on some top recruits. He places some of that loss on Walter Brown Arena, the raucous bandbox that had been overtaken by bigger and glitzier facilities at other schools.

In the past few years, Parker's schedule has been split by the chores of coaching his team and managing the design and construction of his new rink. He has traveled regularly to visit donors. But on Jan. 3, BU opened Agganis Arena, christening the facility that will be a significant component of the school's recruiting strategy for years to come.

''The ordeal, the anxiety, the time consumption of getting the rink built is done," Parker said. ''All those things give me more time to concentrate on my team. It certainly lays the foundation for BU hockey for a long time to come. It will make it easier for me to recruit and my successor to recruit. The whole package has made it that much better to be the BU hockey coach."

That title isn't one that Parker plans to hold for much longer. Parker has five years remaining on his current deal, and he said he likely will retire before the contract's completion. He has the energy. He loves the competition. He cherishes the friendships with collegians 40 years his junior. But he confesses that his yearly commitment to excellence can wear him out mentally. Parker doesn't have a retirement date in mind, but he said he'll know when it's time. When that time comes, he won't draw it out.

''I don't want to say, 'I'm going to leave in 2006-07, this is my last season,' and go to every rink, and get a chair. Then get booed. I'm not looking for that," Parker said. ''I'll know that it's time for somebody else. It's mentally not being there as much as you have to be there. It's like tunnel vision once the season starts. If you get distracted, you're not doing the job you have to do for the team and players. It's amazing how it consumes you. But if it's not consuming you, then it's time to get out."

When he steps down as coach, Parker will retain his position of executive director of athletics. He, along with athletic director Michael Lynch and executive vice president Joe Mercurio, will pick his successor, who will have BU ties. Parker said he has a short list; it will not be a nationwide search.

One person, however, doesn't think the 60-year-old will retire any time soon.

''He's in it until he croaks," said Bob Parker, his twin brother. ''Jack really enjoys the job. I don't think he can come up with any good reason to retire. There's not a lot of heavy lifting involved. They pay him well. He loves it. He can still win hockey games."

Boston's best
Parker and York have never been alike. According to Bob Parker, who attended BC and became friends with York, Jack was the rough, cocky hustler while Jerry was the quiet, unassuming choirboy. Parker was the rail-thin whirlybird who killed penalties at a frenzied pace. York was the smooth, effortless skater. Parker can curse a blue streak. There are colleagues who have never heard York utter a nasty word.

But these opposites share a startling number of similarities. They both attended Catholic high schools. They both coach their alma maters, where they were captains during their playing days. They both played college hockey under coaches named Kelley. (Jack Kelley at BU and John ''Snooks" Kelley at BC). They are separated by eight career coaching wins. Both have former assistants heading their own programs. Above all, they are friends. When York was a coach at Clarkson, Parker and Don ''Toot" Cahoon, his assistant at the time, would stay at York's house when BU played the Golden Knights.

For the last decade, the two have clashed on the ice and in the living rooms of potential recruits. Amid what could be the fiercest rivalry in college hockey, the two catalysts have yet to strike the spark that could make it a combustible scenario.

''We're different personalities," York said. ''But the competitiveness and the love of hockey is the same. If you really look at it, we're pretty similar. We look different and act different, but we're still pretty close."