The program said it was Senior Day, but fans and players knew better. This was Travis Parker's time.

Blue-and-white 11s adorned the faces of Penn State faithful Saturday while several "Thank You" signs and a sea of applause flooded the Bryce Jordan Center. Parker stood at center court, taking it all in.

He tossed his blue, senior blanket over his shoulders like a cape -- and with an oversized "S" fixed in the middle, he could've been mistaken for Superman.

"We wanted to make something special for Travis, him being the lone senior and everything, and this is his day," teammate Geary Claxton said. "We just wanted to come out and give it all we had."

Parker walked off the court for the last time as a winner, chipping in 14 points and a career-high six steals. The crowd of 11,005 ticket holders rose to its feet in applause at the end, giving Parker his second standing ovation.

"I'm close with everybody on this team, I get along with everybody -- and that hasn't happened with me often," Parker reflected. "Maybe it's me, or maybe I just don't get along with other people. But, this team, we do everything together.

"And it's just fun being around the guys, and I love them. I'm gonna miss 'em. It's gonna be hard for me to leave."

Parker has become a one-man highlight reel this season and rocked the college basketball world after hitting the game-winning shot against Illinois.

But even after what some analysts heralded as the "Upset of the Year," he didn't receive much respect -- at least from other teams.

Against Indiana two weeks ago, Parker recalled with a smile how the Hoosiers' Earl Calloway repeated, "He's not a shooter, leave 'em open. He can't do nothing."

Parker asked the Indiana guard if he was the one Calloway was talking about. But Parker didn't get a reply.

"And then he said it again, and I just started laughing," Parker said.

Parker was the last one laughing, too -- he finished with 21 points and seven rebounds. At the next meeting, Parker said Calloway approached him with a grin and quipped, "Good game, good game."

That sign of respect meant a lot to the 6-foot-5 forward, and it's something Parker said he hasn't experienced a lot of in his life.

Sure, Claxton said Parker's been like his big brother since day one. And sure, Coach Ed DeChellis lauded Parker for being a model student-athlete.

But high school in Bethel, N.C., was different. A lot different.

The surrounding area was a blue-collar community dotted with trailer parks. The school itself was a single brick building -- gym on one side, buses on the other. Students were bused in from up to an hour away, and college basketball prospects were about as common as a July snowfall.

"I've been here 18 years as a varsity basketball coach, and there might've been a kid that went D-II, and one other boy that went to [Division II] Queens College -- I don't think I've had a kid go bigger than that," said Gregg Ashorn, Parker's former high school coach. "Travis was the only one."

Parker may have been one of a kind, but his attitude certainly showed it. He was far from the humble player he is now.

During one game at North Pitt High School when Ashorn benched him, a fan yelled to Parker from the stands: "Why'd he take you out?"

Parker didn't flinch. He only yelled back, "Cause he stupid!"

It got so bad at the small program that Parker was forced to take some time away from the team. He didn't play for two games.

That decision came after the forward fouled out, ran out of the gym because he "was pissed off at the referee" and then got two technical fouls the following contest.

In the state championship, Parker clocked about four minutes -- he was riddled by foul trouble and recorded a pair of fouls just on the bench. His team lost by two.

And his reputation? It was so bad that even his girlfriend was warned by her cheerleading coach to steer clear of Parker's attitude problem.

But that all started to change when Parker attended a junior college, Southwest Missouri State University-West Plains. It was a picturesque setting where the average building was no taller than two stories. The only exception was a large white building that overlooked a luscious green courtyard, complemented by a fountain.

But Parker wasn't here to take in the sights. No, he was here to play basketball -- and this near-perfect scene was a rude awakening.

No family, no girlfriend, no friends. Parker stepped on a campus more than 1,000 miles away from his home without a single person he could turn to.

Parker said that forced him to grow up.

"It was just so hard," Parker said. "And the head coach there, he didn't make it no better.

"He always demanded our best. He was always like, 'I'm not your friend, I'm your coach.' "

Ashorn recalled an emotional phone call he got from Parker one night during junior college. Parker said he couldn't take it anymore. He wanted to quit. He wanted to go home.

But Ashorn told Parker that wasn't an option. God gave him all this talent, and Parker was meant to use it. Parker made a couple more phone calls that night, and they all said the same thing: We believe in you.

"Nobody let me quit," Parker said.

It was rough in the beginning with daily conditioning and rigorous practice routines. But it gradually smoothed out Parker's character.

He knew he couldn't get away with acting how he did in high school, so he was faced with a decision -- either change or don't play basketball.

And not playing the sport he loved? That wasn't an option.

He began to see the wrong in his actions. That bad attitude, and the accompanying bad reputation, started to melt away.

Parker's raw talent had always attracted onlookers, but his behavior normally repelled them. And when that previous, selfish mindset dissolved -- Parker caught the eye of Penn State.

He was asked to play for the Lions, and he graciously accepted. He always wanted to play for a Div. I school, but nobody thought he'd ever make it this far.

This was the culmination of all that hard work, of persevering through his time at junior college and becoming a better person.

Parker even recalled a time over this past summer when he drove his girlfriend to her old cheerleading instructor's house -- an example of just how much has changed.

She and her husband sat Parker down, but not to discipline him. They wanted to express just how proud they were of the man he had become. They never expected him to make it this far, and he had made his hometown blush with pride -- he was the first North Pitt Div. I product in at least two decades.

Parker even recalled a story his mother, Carolyn, told him when she was at the local grocery store. She was doing her regular shopping when two young kids walked up to her and asked her about Travis.

Two kids his mother had never met before. Two kids that never knew Travis.

But they knew of him. Everybody does.

"My little boys always ask about him -- they're about 12 and 10 now," Ashorn said.

Parker's come a long way in the last four years, but he still has a few more miles left on his journey. The Big Ten Tournament is looming over the horizon, and a bid to the National Invitation Tournament is no longer just a dream.

It was Parker's day on Saturday, but the humble senior still called it "more of a team thing."

"I wish I had four years, but there ain't nothing I can do about it now," he continued. "I'll come back and visit them. I'll come back for games and stuff -- take 'em out a few times."

Claxton smiled and glanced at Parker after the statement.

"Part of this is like history," Claxton said. "And it's something you cherish for the rest of your life."