either wrong address, or somebody didnt do what they were suppose to do....
Police in Indianapolis are investigating a Mother’s Day shooting that resulted in over 80 shots being fired at the home of Colts head coach Frank Reich’s assistant Parks Frazier.
Neither Frazier nor anyone else was injured in the shooting, which witnesses say was carried out by eight men who got out of three cars outside of the house. Per a report from WTHR, the street outside the house was littered with shell casings from five different handguns and rifles.
“About five minutes until six, I was in the kitchen trying to fix myself a little meal,” one of Frazier’s neighbors told the station. “All at once boom, boom, boom! It was very loud, and it sounded like it was tearing up my house.”
The Colts had no comment beyond saying they were glad that Frazier was not harmed. Police have not made any arrests, but they recovered a cellphone from the street that they believe belonged to one of the shooters.
Background on Parks Frazier
INDIANAPOLIS — With no money and no bed and no apartment, he’d spend some nights sleeping in the front seat of his truck, the back serving as a makeshift closet, cluttered with clothes. This is what a dream looks like sometimes. Looks hopeless. Looks desperate.
And if it wasn’t the truck, he’d crash on a friend’s couch, or in one case, a couple’s nursery, painted in pink, their due date approaching. “As soon as the baby came,” he says with a laugh, “I got booted.”
OK, then, back to the truck, back to whatever he could find. Parks Frazier had no income, a computer science degree he didn’t want to use and an addiction to football he couldn’t quit. You wanna coach? How far are you willing to go? For a stretch there, Frazier was essentially homeless. He was willing to go pretty far.
And that’s probably why he’s having the time of his life these days, sometimes stopping in the hallways of his new office, staring at photos of Peyton Manning. It’s why he’s working every waking hour. Frazier says he pulls into the parking lot each morning around 5:30 a.m. and doesn’t leave until after 10 at night. “He’s lying,” says his boss, Frank Reich. “He’s here later than that.”
So recently, Reich laid down a mandate: “I don’t want you here past midnight,” he told him. The reason? Reich showed up early one morning a few weeks back and gazed at the game plan that sat on his desk, which he has Frazier update a handful of times each week.
The timestamp read 2:04 a.m. Reich shook his head.
In four years, Frazier has climbed from backup quarterback at Murray State to low-level grunt at Samford University, then Middle Tennessee State, then Arkansas State, to, suddenly, Reich’s right-hand man with the Indianapolis Colts. His official title: assistant to the head coach. What that really means: Do anything and everything Reich asks.
And there’s a lot. Hence the hours.
At Reich’s discretion, Frazier, 26, prepares the practice plan every day and the offensive call sheets for every game; he types up Andrew Luck’s wristband every Sunday – “Nothing can be wrong, not one digit,” he stresses; he fires passes to the wideouts during warmups; then up in the coach’s box, over the headset, he shares with Reich and offensive coordinator Nick Sirianni the coverages and defensive tendencies he’s noticing in the opponent. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg.
If Colts coach Frank Reich needs to bounce something off someone, Parks Frazier is "the first person I go to,” Reich says. “No matter what it’s about. I just think that much of him.” (Photo: Matt Kryger/IndyStar)
From sleeping in his truck to the NFL in a little over three years. At least these days he has an apartment. And a salary.
“He’s a stud,” Sirianni says. “He’s gonna be a star.”
Where did it start? With a close friend who was living across the country.
In 2015, Frazier – along with Samford's head coach, Chris Hatcher – convinced a former teammate and close friend, Spencer Phillips, to come work with them on the staff. Frazier's pitch was sincere, if not overly convincing: “I’m not making any money, this living situation is awful, but it’s a freaking blast,” he told Phillips.
Phillips was a dreamer too, willing to put in the work just the same. He was coaching high school football, washing cars at a dealership on the side to pay the bills. He moved across the country and joined Frazier at Samford.
They didn’t get paid a dime.
“We were both technically homeless,” Frazier remembers.
Then the two of them climbed. They made friends in the coaching industry. They worked long hours. They waited. Frazier spent six months at Samford, six more at Middle Tennessee State, then moved to Jonesboro, Ark. where he worked as an offensive grad assistant at Arkansas State. Meanwhile, Phillips, still at Samford, landed a job on Doug Pederson's staff with the Philadelphia Eagles after ambitiously introducing himself to Pederson at that year's Senior Bowl. And that was only after he slept in his car for two nights, munching on granola bars, dreaming of making the most of his opportunity.
And it was in Philadelphia where Phillips met the new offensive coordinator, Frank Reich. Two seasons later, a Super Bowl triumph in tow, the first head-coaching opportunity of his career before him, Reich sought recommendations on a new assistant. Phillips called. “I’m gonna tell you this guy’s name,” he told Reich, “and there’s no one better. There’s not a better person, there’s no one who’s going to work harder. This is the smartest guy I know.”
It was his old friend, the one who he'd convinced to move across the country and come coach football for free.
A few weeks later, Frazier’s phone buzzed while he sat in a meeting at Arkansas State. It was a facetime call from Indianapolis. Frank Reich was on the other end.
He aced the interview.
Police in Indianapolis are investigating a Mother’s Day shooting that resulted in over 80 shots being fired at the home of Colts head coach Frank Reich’s assistant Parks Frazier.
Neither Frazier nor anyone else was injured in the shooting, which witnesses say was carried out by eight men who got out of three cars outside of the house. Per a report from WTHR, the street outside the house was littered with shell casings from five different handguns and rifles.
“About five minutes until six, I was in the kitchen trying to fix myself a little meal,” one of Frazier’s neighbors told the station. “All at once boom, boom, boom! It was very loud, and it sounded like it was tearing up my house.”
The Colts had no comment beyond saying they were glad that Frazier was not harmed. Police have not made any arrests, but they recovered a cellphone from the street that they believe belonged to one of the shooters.
Background on Parks Frazier
INDIANAPOLIS — With no money and no bed and no apartment, he’d spend some nights sleeping in the front seat of his truck, the back serving as a makeshift closet, cluttered with clothes. This is what a dream looks like sometimes. Looks hopeless. Looks desperate.
And if it wasn’t the truck, he’d crash on a friend’s couch, or in one case, a couple’s nursery, painted in pink, their due date approaching. “As soon as the baby came,” he says with a laugh, “I got booted.”
OK, then, back to the truck, back to whatever he could find. Parks Frazier had no income, a computer science degree he didn’t want to use and an addiction to football he couldn’t quit. You wanna coach? How far are you willing to go? For a stretch there, Frazier was essentially homeless. He was willing to go pretty far.
And that’s probably why he’s having the time of his life these days, sometimes stopping in the hallways of his new office, staring at photos of Peyton Manning. It’s why he’s working every waking hour. Frazier says he pulls into the parking lot each morning around 5:30 a.m. and doesn’t leave until after 10 at night. “He’s lying,” says his boss, Frank Reich. “He’s here later than that.”
So recently, Reich laid down a mandate: “I don’t want you here past midnight,” he told him. The reason? Reich showed up early one morning a few weeks back and gazed at the game plan that sat on his desk, which he has Frazier update a handful of times each week.
The timestamp read 2:04 a.m. Reich shook his head.
In four years, Frazier has climbed from backup quarterback at Murray State to low-level grunt at Samford University, then Middle Tennessee State, then Arkansas State, to, suddenly, Reich’s right-hand man with the Indianapolis Colts. His official title: assistant to the head coach. What that really means: Do anything and everything Reich asks.
And there’s a lot. Hence the hours.
At Reich’s discretion, Frazier, 26, prepares the practice plan every day and the offensive call sheets for every game; he types up Andrew Luck’s wristband every Sunday – “Nothing can be wrong, not one digit,” he stresses; he fires passes to the wideouts during warmups; then up in the coach’s box, over the headset, he shares with Reich and offensive coordinator Nick Sirianni the coverages and defensive tendencies he’s noticing in the opponent. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg.
If Colts coach Frank Reich needs to bounce something off someone, Parks Frazier is "the first person I go to,” Reich says. “No matter what it’s about. I just think that much of him.” (Photo: Matt Kryger/IndyStar)
From sleeping in his truck to the NFL in a little over three years. At least these days he has an apartment. And a salary.
“He’s a stud,” Sirianni says. “He’s gonna be a star.”
Where did it start? With a close friend who was living across the country.
In 2015, Frazier – along with Samford's head coach, Chris Hatcher – convinced a former teammate and close friend, Spencer Phillips, to come work with them on the staff. Frazier's pitch was sincere, if not overly convincing: “I’m not making any money, this living situation is awful, but it’s a freaking blast,” he told Phillips.
Phillips was a dreamer too, willing to put in the work just the same. He was coaching high school football, washing cars at a dealership on the side to pay the bills. He moved across the country and joined Frazier at Samford.
They didn’t get paid a dime.
“We were both technically homeless,” Frazier remembers.
Then the two of them climbed. They made friends in the coaching industry. They worked long hours. They waited. Frazier spent six months at Samford, six more at Middle Tennessee State, then moved to Jonesboro, Ark. where he worked as an offensive grad assistant at Arkansas State. Meanwhile, Phillips, still at Samford, landed a job on Doug Pederson's staff with the Philadelphia Eagles after ambitiously introducing himself to Pederson at that year's Senior Bowl. And that was only after he slept in his car for two nights, munching on granola bars, dreaming of making the most of his opportunity.
And it was in Philadelphia where Phillips met the new offensive coordinator, Frank Reich. Two seasons later, a Super Bowl triumph in tow, the first head-coaching opportunity of his career before him, Reich sought recommendations on a new assistant. Phillips called. “I’m gonna tell you this guy’s name,” he told Reich, “and there’s no one better. There’s not a better person, there’s no one who’s going to work harder. This is the smartest guy I know.”
It was his old friend, the one who he'd convinced to move across the country and come coach football for free.
A few weeks later, Frazier’s phone buzzed while he sat in a meeting at Arkansas State. It was a facetime call from Indianapolis. Frank Reich was on the other end.
He aced the interview.
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