Probert much more than just a brawler

Even at a time in the NHL when there was no honor among thieves, there was among enforcers.

And that is what I choose to remember now about Bob Probert.

The legendary protector of Red Wings and Blackhawks died Monday of an apparent heart attack in Ontario, Canada, after collapsing on a boat in Lake St. Clair.

Only 45, Probert was a man who played hard on the ice and harder off the ice, leaving a trail of trouble that shortened what should have been a terrific hockey career.

That's what most will remember about a guy who could have had a dream life by any standard if not for his unending fight with alcohol and cocaine, a battle he lost over and over again.

They will think of the riches he possessed, his bounty far beyond money, with a wife and four children, a professional hockey career, the chance to skate with Steve Yzerman, and the respect of feared opponents.

I can't think of Probert without remembering his fight against Marty McSorley on Feb. 4, 1994.

Probert, still in his prime and in his last few months with Detroit, and McSorley, with Pittsburgh, squared off and went at it for what felt like an eternity.

Longest fight I've ever seen, going about a minute, 44 seconds, with the two heavyweights throwing haymakers until they couldn't lift their arms any longer.

An incredible duel, but most memorable for what occurred at the end.

When it finally was over, the two men half-undressed, gasping for air and McSorley bleeding, McSorley leaned forward and gave Probert a gentle head-butt, his way of congratulating Probert for surviving a remarkable battle.

When the linesman released him, Probert put his right hand on McSorley's head and rubbed his hair like he would a little brother, and then did it again with his left hand.

Had there not been stripes between them, I believe they might have hugged.

Extraordinary.

I never forgot it and over the years had conversations with both men about it, but it was McSorley who summed it up best when he said that as a fighter there was never a more honest man than Bob Probert.

Honest. While frequently used to mean something in hockey, you don't hear words like honest and honorable thrown at a man who used his hands to throw punches much more than he did to score goals.

But Probert could play a little, too. He was rewarded for protecting the Wings' skill players by getting ice time with great forwards, including Yzerman, and in 1988 Probert set career highs with 29 goals, 62 points and 398 penalty minutes.

He played in the 1988 All-Star Game, assisting on a goal by Wayne Gretzky, and the Wings went to the conference finals, Probert collecting 8 goals and 21 points in 16 games, hardly the numbers of a goon.

But the one fight he could never win was that with substance abuse. After the Wings gave up on him and the Hawks gave him a home, they also got him help during his year suspended from the game.

He resumed his career, stayed clean, and had some decent seasons with the Hawks, but when he was done with hockey in 2002 and no longer subjected to testing, Probert had many more difficulties off the ice.

For most who didn't watch closely, that will be his hockey legacy, the drugs, the jail time, the unfulfilled promise of a 6-foot-3, 230-pound skater who had fists like mallets.

But to know him was to find him kind and soft-spoken, someone who loved his kids, loved to laugh and loved life.

He was respected by those he played against, admired by those with whom he traded punches.

It is always sad when someone dies too young, and in the case of Bob Probert, also sad will be the words associated with the mistakes made in an unfinished life so troubled by demons.

I choose instead to think of the way he played the game of hockey in a role rarely reserved for those determined to be fair and clean.

Or in the case of Bob Probert, downright honest.

brozner@dailyherald.com

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