The Final Season

A New Foreword by Candace Parker

I was still in my twenties, and at first it was really difficult for me to understand the ‘why’ of why this happened. I went through life trying to understand why I didn’t have someone that was that impactful in my life to guide me through these formative years and to be able to share a drink with and share her favorite wine, and for her to meet my boys. I feel like they are now meeting her through me.

I’ve learned a lot about legacy because I think legacy is thrown around a great deal. To me, legacy is not what you leave behind, but it’s what you leave inside people and what they carry forward because of you. There’s a lot of things that I carry forward as a result of Pat—the way I treat people, the respect that I give, the teacher, the confidante, the softness that you have to have with someone to be able to coach them hard. I’m not a coach, but I am a mom, and I think that’s the most important job in my life, and I know it was the most important job in Coach Summitt’s life.

I don’t take it for granted because of Pat. To be respected is something that you have to carry with grace, and you have to be tender with it because with one misstep all of that can be out the window. I still am in awe of the fact that I was a naive eighteen-year-old kid that got to Tennessee, and I’m still learning lessons at thirty-nine years old, and I’m learning them through her words to my daughter. I’m going through the process right now of Lailaa picking a school to play volleyball, and I was sitting there almost in tears, remembering how life comes full circle.

I can remember on my official visit her telling me that we needed each other, that we could make each other great. I remember as it was, staring into her clear, crystal blue eyes, it was a respect that I had, and there was a tenderness that I saw every single time. She was not yelling at me or pushing me to be great because she was mad, or because she had some sort of other reason. She was doing it because she saw something in me that I didn’t see in myself. When I go through life, I carry that.

Another thing too is the ability to see spaces that aren’t filled to the capacity that you feel like they can be filled—and you go do that. I can remember reading her book before I got to Tennessee about how she drove the bus, she did the laundry, she coached the team, she did all of these things. A number of people ask, ‘Oh, is this my role? Is this my job?’ instead of just filling it. That’s what I try to do on whatever team—try to be the person that can fill the role and maybe not get the credit, and that’s fine. When it’s all said and done, I think it’s all worth it. I’m super grateful for her teaching me these lessons. I still carry ‘handle success as you handle failure.’ I think I beat myself up when I don’t succeed, and I’ve stopped and celebrated the wins as a result.

I don’t think Coach had time. We always think that there’s more time. Through this process, I’ve learned to celebrate the wins. I’ve learned to stop and smell the roses a little bit more. I’ve learned to take a second with my son in the morning and not rush. I also think through Coach Summitt, I’ve learned a great deal about ‘be where your feet are’ and understanding that it’s important to continue to spend quality time with people that you really, really, really love.

We have Sunday brunch at my house every week. Some of that resulted from her. We would go over to her house, and she would cook the jalapeño corn, the chicken and steak, and the homemade ice cream. I’ve realized the importance of gathering around a table and playing games and making it a habit to come back. I think my kids will understand and hopefully bring their kids back when it comes time to being a part of that. I’m super grateful for her and what she’s left for me. I wish that she could be here to see this and to see my kids and see the boys.

But it’s crazy going through this process of recruiting with my daughter. A year ago she had back surgery, and I remember telling her this sucks. And she’s like, ‘I’m not going to get a scholarship now. I’m not going to be able to play in college.’ I remember telling her, ‘If you put your head down and you work, you will get to where you need to be, and you will be at peace at where you are if you do that.’ I can remember Coach Summitt saying the same words to me, and this year I’m going into the Women’s Basketball Hall of Fame. I think she saw that before me. I wasn’t even thinking that. I think it’s just full circle to be in that position of being able to share her knowledge and what she taught me now as a parent. I think that’s super, super, super special.

I think if Coach were standing in front of me, I would tell her that she was right about rebounding. That’s what I would tell her. I mean it in the sense of yes in basketball, 100 percent, offensive rebounding, try to get extra possessions. But in the grander scheme of rebounding when things don’t go right, I feel like I bounce back, I figure out a different path, and I feel like I pivot. I’m never comfortable. She always talked about how you could never get comfortable, to take ownership. I’m realizing through basketball terms in life, I think she’d be proud of that.

There’s been two people that were gone too soon in Kobe and Coach Summitt. It’s different with Kobe, because he was forty-one, but I think through that you realize you’re always young. When you’ve lived life to the fullest, you’re always young, it’s always too soon.

I reflect on the pictures on the anniversaries and on the moments. Our championship’s coming up—2027 is next year. It’ll be twenty years, which is insane to me. You go back and start looking at the pictures, and it tells how much the time has passed, it tells Lailaa’s age, and it tells my life and the transitions that I’ve gone through. It speaks to just how long ago it was. That’s when I get sad. That experience is what’s so difficult, because she’s not going to be at the Hall of Fame. She’s not going to be there. It is difficult, but I think she’s proud of what she has left behind.