The last four years of Probert’s life have been “clean living,” says Cadarian. “The drugs were out of his life.” So was drinking. According to a close family friend, there are still beers in the Proberts’ fridge from their 2010 New Year’s Eve party. Most of the time, Probert reached for a Coca-Cola. Grant Higginbottom, who fondly remembers how his friend always honked twice when driving by his home, says that last year, when he went to Probert’s cottage—a rustic, two-bedroom cedar home on a lake in Tobermory, Ont.—his host went to sleep early. “I was like, ‘Dude, we come all the way here, I have a case of beer, and you’re going to bed?’ He’s like, ‘Hig-man, the body can’t take it no more.’ ”
Though famous for going late into the night, even New Year’s at the Proberts’ was a family-friendly bash, one in which friends and all their kids were invited. Probert wanted to share as many experiences as he could with his children. While at the arena for Canada’s Olympic gold medal curling triumph in Vancouver, Probert called his family back home so they could be part of the excitement. He did the same thing at a U2 concert in Toronto last year. He often took his four children out tubing on the lake or to the local rink for public skating. And though friends say he was late to everything, he’d drop whatever he was doing in order to get home for 3:15 p.m., when the bus arrived from school. When he was out of town, Probert always called home to say good night.
At her father’s funeral, attended by about 1,000 people, 15-year-old Brogan talked about having the “goofiest, most embarrassing dad ever.” One who would often announce his arrival with a duck call, and enjoyed racing shopping carts up and down the grocery store aisles. Flanked by her sister Tierney, 13, as well as the 10-year-old twins, Jack and Declyn, Brogan spoke of the pain she felt knowing that her dad was going to miss her 16th birthday and not be around to teach her how to drive, or, one day, walk her down the aisle. (Probert’s own father died before seeing him play a single game of junior hockey.)
Others remember Probert’s generosity. Charity work filled a great deal of his time in recent years. He toured with the NHL Legends, and has been a regular—and big draw—at Detroit Red Wing Alumni events. And he often took part in charity golf tournaments, despite not being a natural. “He’d hit the ball a mile but it would go any which way—anyone on either side of him was in danger,” says Ducharme. “Golf was too slow for him.”
A few years ago, Robert “Knobby” Knudsen, who has been involved in Windsor sports for several decades, promised the kids in his skating program that those who secured $100 worth of pledges in a fundraising drive would be rewarded with a skate and autograph session with some pros. The only trouble was that his speed dial only included one former NHLer. Probert answered the call. And on the day of the event, he delivered a roster of former hockey stars, including Adam Graves and Tiger Williams. “All the players skated for their half-hour, no problem, and signed some autographs,” recalls Knudsen. “But 2½ hours later, there’s Probert on the ice, carrying kids, and signing autographs. It was unbelievable.”
Nevin Virtue, a Windsor police officer who also organizes fundraisers involving NHL old-timers, remembers a charity game at Windsor’s Old Barn a few years ago when former Toronto Maple Leaf Doug Gilmour broke Probert’s skate with a shot during the warm-up. “Bob said to us, ‘See if we can delay for a little while, I’m going to drive home and get my other skates,’ ” recalls Virtue. “So he put on his jacket and poof, he went, and got back just in time for the opening ceremonies. He couldn’t miss the game.”
He wasn’t the person you’d expect, adds Virtue. “He would put his head down at times when walking through an arena because he was shy. But he was always looking to have a good time on the ice and made sure everyone had as much fun as he did.”
His generous spirit extended to people toward whom he might well bear a grudge. While at his cottage in June, Probert apparently received a call from a police officer who years ago, Cadarian alleges, roughed up Probert’s brother. The officer asked if Probert could visit a relative at Windsor’s Brentwood Recovery Centre—a place where Probert had spent some time himself. Whatever had happened in the past, Probert did the cop a favour.
For the most part, the local hero kept a low profile in recent years. Twice, however, he travelled to Afghanistan to visit the troops. NHL journeyman Stu Grimson, who squared off against Probert in several heavyweight tilts during their playing careers, was also part of the spring 2008 tour. One of the highlights of the week-long visit were the ball hockey games against the troops. “He got challenged plenty, as did I, but we didn’t [drop the gloves],” laughs Grimson, now a lawyer in Nashville. But there was no question, he adds, that Probert was the fan favourite among the troops. That was most evident during autograph sessions.
Probert’s biggest step back into the spotlight was last fall on CBC’s Battle of the Blades. John Brunton, one of the show’s executive producers, thinks that for a guy like Probert, who joined after only the slightest bit of arm-twisting from his one-time-rival-turned-friend Tie Domi, the show was a way to reinvent his image.
Brunton recalls Probert being very upset after getting eliminated first, and was amazed at how much he improved for the finale—even making the difficult switch from hockey to figure skates. “He must have spent some time working on that,” says Brunton. “At the finale, he was the first one on the ice—was really paying attention to the choreographers—and he really wanted to be good.”
A few months ago, after a long absence, Probert began attending Windsor’s Christian Fellowship Church, where he was married, and this month, memorialized (Probert’s coffin arrived at the church on the sidecar of a Harley Davidson). In fact, all of the music during his funeral was his favourite songs of worship. His former Red Wings teammate, Steve Yzerman, as well as Colin Campbell, the NHL’s senior vice-president and director of hockey operations and a former assistant coach with the Red Wings, spoke at the funeral. Though nothing came of it, Probert called Campbell a couple of months ago to see if there were any hockey-related jobs he might be able to fill. Probert had stayed connected to the game. He ran a spring hockey school in Windsor a few years ago, but stopped during the economic downturn. Knowing how badly the people of Windsor were suffering during the recession, says Cadarian, Probert’s partner on the project, he didn’t like taking money from them.
While perhaps tough for diehard Red Wing and Blackhawks fans to hear, Probert had been pulling on a Maple Leaf jersey for the last four seasons and playing in Windsor’s Original Six Monday night league.
“We tried giving him 28 [Domi’s old number], but he wouldn’t wear it,” laughs Cadarian, one of Probert’s teammates. Probert opted instead for his famous No. 24, and blossomed into something of a goal scorer. In fact, the former brawler, who spent 3,300 minutes in the sin bin during his career, didn’t draw his first penalty in the league until last season: a two-minute minor for hooking. Further proof Bob Probert was a changed man.
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