Heartbreak In Boston As Dick Hoyt, Marathon Legend Who Pushed Son Rick In Wheelchair, Has Died At 80 Years Old
There aren't too many stories in sports that make me instantly tear up once I see them again or catch an old segment on. Not tears of sadness mind you. But tears of love I guess you'd say. Because one couldn't help but be moved by the incredible story of Dick and Rick Hoyt, a pair of Boston Marathon legends.
If you're somehow not aware of the Hoyts, the father-son duo ran 32 Boston Marathons with Dick pushing Rick in his wheelchair for the 26.2 mile course. When he was a young kid with cerebral palsy, Rick asked Dick to run with him in a local road race. Afterwards, the son told the father that he felt like he had no disability when they were running together. So the father made running with his son a priority. Eventually, they became icons for one of the marquee events in the sports world as well as inspirations to millions.
I've been to the Marathon a bunch of times (shoutout Boylston St. Copy Cop) and there was nothing like the roar of the crowd as the Hoyts approached the finish line. It's an instant lump-in-your-throat moment as their story just touches people because it's rooted in a father's love for his son.
But this time, reading about the Hoyts brought tears of sadness when I saw that Dick passed away at 80 years old from congestive heart failure on Wednesday. Like many locals, I was gutted to read the news. The Hoyts hadn't run Boston in seven years so you they kind of float to the back burner of your brain until something like this happens. And it just makes you sad. Because we all saw the love, perseverance, and tenacity of the human spirit on display for more than 1,000 races around the world, including 72 marathons and 257 triathlons. The way Dick referred to Rick as his partner and his teammate was always particularly moving.
(Source) He and his son achieved their best time — 2:40:47, according to their website — at the 1992 Marine Corps Marathon in Washington. “When I start pushing Ricky, I get this feeling,” Mr. Hoyt told the Los Angeles Times. “I go all out. I get up more for Rick. I want to pass people. I want to beat them. When I get behind that chair, it helps me.”
Even a pro like David Muir gets choked up by the story.
It wasn't just running together. Dick did everything with Rick. And this was all after doctors told Dick that Rick should be institutionalized.
But the Hoyts perceived in their infant son an intelligence they knew was real and, to the best of their ability, sought to provide an enriching upbringing for him and his two brothers.
Mr. Hoyt recalled taking Rick fishing, tying the fishing line around his finger so he could know the thrill of the catch. He hoisted his son onto his back for hiking trips and pulled him in a sled when the family went cross-country skiing.
When other boys scampered onto the baseball diamond, Mr. Hoyt helped his son swing the bat and then propelled him in his wheelchair from base to base.
A turning point in their life came when engineers at Tufts University in Massachusetts designed a computer that allowed Rick to tap out words with his head. The year was 1977, and the Boston hockey team was competing for the Stanley Cup. Rick Hoyt’s first words were “Go Bruins.”
“We had no idea he’d been following sports all along,” Mr. Hoyt told the Globe in 1996.
That must've incredible for Rick's parents, to know that he was so tuned-in like that despite his hurdles that those would be his first words and that he'd been following sports the whole time.
The Hoyts are such local icons that they already have a bronze statue in Hopkinton where the fabled race kicks off.

Along with his son, Dick inspired millions with his actions. He's as much a Boston Marathon legend as anyone. His dedication to his son and what they accomplished together are things that make you want to be just a little bit better. And that is perhaps Dick Hoyt's best legacy of all.