Philadelphia Flyers forward Garnet Hathaway (19). (Megan DeRuchie-The Hockey News)
By any measure, Garnet Hathaway has carved out an NHL career worthy of admiration.
He's known for his physical style, his tenacity, and his willingness to do the hard, thankless jobs that make a team whole. But if you really want to understand Hathaway is—why his teammates revere him, why coaches trust him, and why fans cheer for him so fiercely—you have to look past the numbers on the scoresheet.
Look instead to the community he uplifts. To the lives he touches without fanfare. To the little boy named Troy, whose world he helped shape not with a stick, but with something more enduring: kindness.
It's no surprise, then, that the Philadelphia Flyers nominated Hathaway for the 2025 King Clancy Memorial Trophy, an award given to the player "who best exemplifies leadership on and off the ice and has made a significant humanitarian contribution to his community."
In Philadelphia, much of that has come through Hath's Heroes, the initiative he began during his time with the Washington Capitals to recognize and support first responders.
But the true measure of his impact isn't captured in press releases or appearances. It's captured in stories like Troy's.
'Garnet is his best bud, his hockey hero.'
Jenn, Troy's mother, lights up when she speaks about Hathaway—partly because she's grateful, and partly because the memory of what he's meant to her family still takes her breath away.
Her son, Troy, now nine, has adored hockey for pretty much his entire life. Dealing with a speech delay from the time he was two years old, Troy leaned into hockey as both a comfort and a joy.
“It’s not hard to understand why,” Jenn says. “He went to his first NHL game at 10 weeks old, we’re season ticket holders [for the Capitals], and he’s named after two NHL players.”
In 2019, as they did every season, Jenn and her husband used the Capitals' roster to help Troy learn and say player names.
"Troy absolutely loves numbers, so he would match the number to the player," she says. That year, the first name Troy learned was Garnet Hathaway.
Something clicked.
Troy became enamored with the gritty forward, insisting on a Hathaway jersey for his birthday. At a team practice shortly thereafter, Troy held up a sign saying that it was his birthday. Hathaway skated right over, spotted the jersey, and immediately pulled Troy aside to sign it. It wasn’t a PR moment. It was simply Hathaway being Hathaway.
And from that moment, something quietly profound began.
“Troy wanted to make him a cake with lobsters for his birthday,” Jenn recalls with a laugh. “We made lobster sugar cookies for the cake—they did not look like lobsters—but we took it to him at practice that day to cheer him up [after a three-game suspension]. He skated to Troy after practice and got the cake and gave Troy a few things. We didn’t expect any of them. I think this is when their little relationship really started.”
“He sat there and thanked me.”
Jenn works in law enforcement, and at the time, was working with cases involving child abuse. When Hathaway launched Hath’s Heroes in Washington—a program specifically designed to honor and support first responders—Jenn approached him after a practice.
“I thanked him for creating the organization and how much it meant to me,” she says. “He sat there and thanked me for what I do. Even as a civilian, it was actually one of the first times someone outside of a first responder agency thanked me. I will always remember that.”
In Philadelphia, Hathaway has brought Hath’s Heroes with him. Through the program, he and his wife Lindsay have honored first responders in the area. They’ve donated game tickets. Organized meet-and-greets. Shined a spotlight on those who serve their community through work as firefighters, EMTs, paramedics, etc.
“The only thing he wanted for his birthday was to go to practice and see Garnet.”
Then came COVID.
Troy’s fifth birthday was approaching, and all he wanted was to “go to practice and see Garnet.” But everything was shut down. No fans. No practices. No cake deliveries.
Jenn and her husband were heartbroken. How do you explain to a five-year-old that his simple wish—just to see his hero—couldn’t happen?
But Hathaway came through.
“He made sure to reach out and talk to Troy for his birthday,” Jenn says. “He saved the day. And he made Troy’s birthday every year while he was in D.C.”
The tradition continued. Every year since Troy was four, they’ve made birthday cakes for Garnet—“Sometimes with a lot of lobsters!”
“I want to show Garnet my ring!”
Even though Hathaway now plays in a different city, Troy still follows him closely. His youth hockey jersey is #21, a tribute to Hathaway’s number in D.C. This spring, he asked to change it to #19—Hathaway’s number in Philadelphia. Jenn and her husband agreed.
Just a few weeks ago, Troy was in New Jersey for a hockey tournament. His team won the championship. The first thing he said after the victory?
“I want to show Garnet my ring!”
They were able to make it to a Flyers practice "just in time" to show Hathaway the ring. His reaction? According to Jenn, "I think he may have been just as excited as Troy."
“We can only hope that Troy grows up to be half the people they are.”
What makes Hathaway different isn’t just his kindness—it’s his consistency. “No one has to do any of it,” Jenn says. “From pictures to sticks to pucks to a video call—Garnet Hathaway has done all of those with a smile and, I’m sure, a happy heart each time.”
That, in the end, is the heart of his King Clancy nomination. Not just a player giving back to his community, but a person who shows up—reliably, authentically, and without expectation of praise.
“He and Lindsay are two of the most selfless people my husband and I have ever met,” Jenn says. “We can only hope that Troy grows up to be half the people they are.”
Even as Hathaway continues his career in Philadelphia, Troy will keep cheering for him, wearing #19 with pride, and making cakes with questionable lobster-shaped cookies.
The hockey world often glorifies toughness, grit, and resilience—and Hathaway embodies all of that. But what he proves, over and over, is that the truest strength isn’t measured by hits or penalty minutes. It’s measured in empathy. In remembering someone’s birthday. In saying thank you. In noticing a kid with a sign.
Garnet Hathaway has played for four NHL teams. He’s scored goals, killed penalties, and dropped the gloves. But his legacy will be something softer, quieter, and more enduring.
It’ll be in the smile of a little boy who thinks the world of .
It’ll be in a ring held up after a tournament, met with a proud acknowledgement.
It’ll be in a lobster cookie, shared between "best buds."
That’s Garnet Hathaway. The heart behind the jersey.
