By Angelique Fiske, QBSN Publishing Editor
John Payne straps on his helmet. The headwear, a custom-made Bobcat, sits fiercely upon his head, prepared for the fight. He leaves the constraints and comfort of his home: Burt Kahn Gymnasium. Fearlessly, Payne storms the trenches and summons his forces, becoming the hero of what will later be known as The Great Battle of Parents’ Weekend. He and his 1,000 recruits march bravely down the corridor and return to safety. They then collectively carry out their mission: cheering the Quinnipiac women’s volleyball team to victory.
The conqueror of this story, while not in a war zone, did achieve the impossible. John, the father of Quinnipiac volleyball player Taylor Payne, did wrangle a mass-crowd for the team’s game against St. Francis (Pa.) on Oct. 15, 2011. The Bobcats won in three straight sets.
“It was like my Super Bowl,” John said almost a year after the incredible showing.
For the past four years, John’s has been a fixture on the bleachers for Quinnipiac volleyball, attending few short of every game and making that presence known by all. Even before his daughter’s time in Hamden, John’s rally cries echoed gym after gym, circulating the family’s hometown of Warwick, N.Y. in spite of warnings from fellow parents. John, however, made it his.
“When I first started playing, a bunch of the parents were like, ‘John, I just want you to know that this is a quiet sport,’” Taylor said, mimicking the caution. “Previously, I was a cheerleader, and we were just crazy, and my dad was like, ‘Not anymore. Volleyball is no longer quiet. John Payne is in the house.’”
While he and the volleyball court remain inseparable, his elaborate hats fulfill the same function for his head. From a Viking and his staple Bobcat to a moose and a lobster, John is quite literally a man of many hats, a trademark that began by chance.
John pinpoints the start of the hat-craze back to a volleyball match that brought Taylor’s team to Saratoga. The game fell on his birthday, and one family, with the gift of a cake hat complete with candles, unintentionally changed the course of volleyball pride for the Payne family.
“I put the hat on, and it became an instant study in human nature,” John said.
The reactions immediately pleased the tremendously outgoing 55-year-old salesman, and from there, it grew: both his collection and reputation.
“It’s evolved to the point, again, when Taylor was in high school, we were at a tournament. I didn’t have a hat on, and I’m not sure I had it with me. I put a small traffic cone on my head, and one of the girls on the other team goes, ‘You’re the hat guy!’”
While John’s fame among the volleyball community remains unquestionable, not all have received it with as much enthusiasm. But no amount of discouragement could shake his strong foundation of positivity.
“There are some people that think ‘Oh my God, there must be something wrong with this guy,’ but again, I probably couldn’t prove that there wasn’t,” he said with a laugh.
Though his sanity may get questioned within sports facilities, John never considered himself an athlete. He, even in high school, has been a person in a league of his own.
“I was actually on the high school tennis team, and I will tell you that in 1975, being on the high school tennis team was either one step above or below band, and band wasn’t cool in 1975,” he said. “What I was in high school is the guy I am now, only I was younger, I had hair, and I didn’t wear hats.”
Life’s ups and downs, such as aging or being below the band geeks in the high school hierarchy, could wear down weaker souls. But John’s spirit never faded, even through the years that can destroy parent-children bonds.
In light of the typically troublesome teenage years in which this phenomenon began, the expected result is that of an embarrassed, resentful daughter who shuns her dad for being himself. As John jokingly admits that “[Taylor] is a jerk, and [he] hates being around her,” it is clear that the Payne family remains blissfully unaware of the sometimes-nasty side to parent-child interactions.
When asked if there was ever a time her father’s antics were too much to handle, Taylor threw her hands up, shook her head violently, and said “no, no, no” instantaneously.
“I’ve never been embarrassed of him … We have a very different father-daughter relationship,” Taylor said. “We’re more friends than anything else.”
While it may be hard to believe, the pair’s actions parallel during games and beyond. As John stands in front of the crowd conducting a “Let’s go Bobcats” cheer, Taylor is the first to high-five a player who made a kill or who maybe needs extra encouragement after a misfire. No matter how much the team leads or trails by, both Paynes wear a smile as if it’s a permanent article of clothing. During the offseason, Taylor joins her father’s expeditions supporting her fellow student-athletes with mirrored enthusiasm. So, no: she has never been embarrassed of her father. She is in fact his protégé.
John and Taylor’s loud, colorful personalities grab much attention year round. During volleyball season, however quietly behind John sits his wife, Linda. A reserved woman, Linda and John’s marriage proves that “opposites really do attract,” according to Taylor.
“There’s one point we should be very clear on,” John said. “If it wasn’t for my wife, both of my kids would be a great time at a party, but they wouldn’t be where they are today.”
For both, however, the philosophy of parenting results in their repeated appearances at Quinnipiac and even at games on the road.
“I can’t tell you how many I’ve been to, but I can tell you how many I’ve missed,” John said. “I think that any time you have the ability to and your child wants you to be there, you should make every effort.”
That effort, even when he “wonders if it makes a difference,” clearly impacts those in the stands around him, his daughter, and her teammates.
“They’re laughing; they’re happier. He’s always been there, so I can’t really judge when he’s not,” head coach Kristopher Czaplinski said.
The significance of her father’s support is not lost on Taylor. Volleyball, according to Taylor, has only strengthened the bond between the two. Both father and daughter cited their most memorable moment over the years as the day Taylor was matched against an all-star outside hitter in high school, and she blocked her. She blocked her well. At the end of the game, she leaped into her father’s arms and declared that “she was a volleyball player.”
Having her father there for her from that moment through the end of her collegiate career “means everything” to her, and she’s not the only one.
“There are other girls whose parents haven’t been able to be here, like girls on our team from California or Texas, and they share those moments with him,” Taylor said. “That’s the give back for me.”
What Taylor and her teammates gain from John, he reflects in pride. Through the difficult times this team has faced, from adjusting to new coaches to nearly losing the program in the 2009 Title IX debacle that almost ended Quinnipiac volleyball, they have kept the faith, something that resonates strongly with John.
“Taylor’s college career has been difficult. We haven’t won a whole lot of matches, and that can wear on you. There’s not a kid on her team that’s not aware,” John said. “I’ve never given up, not once, and I don’t think she has either. I’m proud of the fact that she leaves everything on the floor, and that’s really all you can ask.”
As Taylor’s senior season winds down, John’s duty as an athletic enthusiast will hit the back burner. While he prepares to leave that phase of his life behind, Quinnipiac University must ready itself too for the day a duffle bag of hats will not be seated in the stands before another person even arrives.
“It’s crazy to think that all the years, all the miles, and everything else, this will be the end, and that’s okay. That’s life,” John said. “You move on to other things.”
While John praised his daughter for leaving her all on the court, he has done the same for the crowd in the stands. And as John Payne flooded the bleachers that day in October 2011 with unknowing mothers and fathers who had made the trek to Quinnipiac, some maybe for the first time, the significance of Parents’ Weekend was not lost. For John, it’s his weekend every time he places the Bobcat on his head and watches his daughter do what she loves. Regardless of what stage of life John resides or which statement-making headpiece he dons, there is one hat that can never be removed and overrides all others: the hat of a father.
