Day Kirstie McLellan - Tough guy: my life on the edge

MY LIFE ON THE EDGE

with KIRSTIE M c LELLAN DAY

To Dani, the love of my life, and to my beautiful kids,
Brogan, Tierney, Jack and Declyn

It took Bob a long time to decide whether he wanted to write a book and tell the raw truth. But as our kids got older, they started hearing stuff about him that wasnt true. This really bugged Bob. He knew he was no angel, but he wanted the real story on record. He was hard at work on this book with his co-writer, Kirstie McLellan Day, when he died on July 5, 2010. I saw how much had been done, and the kids and I decided to see his dream fulfilled.

The following is Bobs story, the way he wanted it told.

I am so proud of you, Baby.

I was born roughly four weeks before Bob, back in 1965. We played junior hockey against each other. He was in Brantford and I was in Peterborough. We were both drafted by the Red Wings in the summer of 1983, and became teammates with the Wings in the 198586 season. Probie began to make his mark in the National Hockey League in 8687, the first season we were coached by Jacques Demers. It was quite a thrill to be part of the rebirth of the Red Wing organization, and Bob was a major part of that.

Over the next eight years, we enjoyed many great experiences together, both on and off the ice. Highlights included twice meeting the Edmonton Oilers, led by the great Wayne Gretzky, in the semifinals of the Stanley Cup playoffs. Probie played a huge role in those playoff runs. On the ice together, it felt good knowing Bob had my back.

Fans may remember him for his fighting ability and goal scoring, but he was much more than that. Bob knew how to play the game. He was an intelligent player with great hockey sense. For a player with fists of stone, he had incredibly soft hands. His passing, playmaking and scoring touch made him a rare commodity. He was highly respected among his peers. I recall walking into the locker room at the All-Star Game in 1988. All the greats, like Wayne Gretzky and Mark Messier, were there, and the first thing they wanted to do was meet Probie. I remember them coming over and asking me, Can you introduce me to the big fella? He was revered by players, and it wasnt just because he was a tough guy, it was because he was a great player.

Probie was a very popular teammate and a fan favourite. He was loved by all. He was an intelligent, streetwise guy with a quick wit. He was always putting people at ease with a good-hearted joke or friendly barb. He would light up the locker room when he walked in and said, Hey, ya big dummy! On top of his fine play, he made the game fun. Sometimes hed stop in the middle of a fight to adjust his helmet, or hed give Gerard Gallant and me a wink just to let us know everything was okay.

He left an incredible mark on all of us. It didnt matter whoa young hockey fan, a sick kid, an employee at the Joe Louis Arena, a member of your familyBob would always take the time to say hello and engage in friendly conversation. People meeting him for the first time always walked away thinking, Wow, what a nice guy. He endeared himself to everyone, and especially to me.

Hidden behind Bobs self-deprecating humour was a man who truly cared. He was grateful and loyal to people who treated him with respect. He was a rugged hockey player and an unselfish teammate willing to do anything for his team. He had a kind heart and a gentle soul.

Each day, Bob Probert intended to be on the water by 10 A.M., but he never seemed to get there until about two-thirty. It took him forever to get ready and out the door. On the morning of July 5, 2010, he grabbed some Mini-Wheats and finished his ten-year-old daughter Declyns Froot Loops. His in-laws, Leslie Parkinson and her husband, Dan, were there for a visit. Dan is chief of police in Cornwall, Ontario, a city eight hours northeast, on the St. Lawrence River. Leslie sat down beside him and quoted a passage from the Bible, then said, You know, Bob, the Lord has big plans for you. Youve just got to let go of the weights that are on you and yoke up with Him. His burden is light. Bob slurped down the rest of the cereal, nodded and said, Yeah, I know. I am, I am. Then he downed his third Coke of the day and made it to his car by eleven oclock.

He had to gas up the boat and go see his doctor because he was out of pills. Some mornings, it was tough to get out of bed. Seventeen years as the NHLs toughest enforcer will dothat to a body. Hed been prescribed three OxyContin a day, but he took eighttwo in the morning, two after lunch, two at dinner and two at bedtime. Hed dip the pills in Coke to dissolve the time-release coating, then chop up what was left into a line. Itd hit him quicker that way, and for a couple of hours his back wouldnt hurt, his hip flexor wouldnt bother him and he could walk without the feeling of knives jabbing at his knees. Hed fill a months prescription, then hand them over to his wife, Dani, because if left up to him theyd disappear too quickly. Whenever she travelled, she hid them all over the house. He would call her each morning and shed reveal where shed hidden that days stash. On Monday, she might say they were in the cigar box in the office; Tuesdays pills might be in a Baggie taped behind the painting in the family room. It was a good system. Finally, Bob wanted to control his alcohol and drug use. Dani felt his desire to straighten out had been brought on because the kids were now teenagers and they knew what was going on, so he felt accountable. Years of therapy in rehab also helped.

Probie smoked two packs of Parliaments a day, usually in his six-car garage. There was no room to park in there because it was filled with his Harleys, partly restored classic cars and various vehicle parts. The Proberts lived in their dream home on Lake St. Clair, right across the water from Detroit. Bob and Dani designed the house when they were flush, when he was with Chicago in 1999. He was receiving the biggest pay-cheque of his career at the time$1.8 million per year. The home has a stately designeight thousand square feet of grey stone, with a slate roof and limestone stepsand a beautifulyard that includes a huge swimming pool and resting areas under oak, maple and pear trees.

Bob hated to owe money. When he bought something, he paid cash. That included the house, which was worth around $3.5 million. He was an art connoisseur. He loved paintings. He hung an original Viktor Shvaiko in his family room. Theres a photo of it in Architectural Digest. Somehow, he managed to convince the famous Russian painter to insert the number 24 on the front of the brasserie that dominates the left side of the Paris scene. The address matched his sweater number. But Bob never enjoyed anything unless he shared, so he bought the first limited-edition copy of the same painting, framed it and gave it to Dan and Leslie for Christmas.

Bob was the king of getting people to do what he wanted. When he ran out of Coca-Cola, hed call his mother, Theresa, who lived in nearby Windsor, and ask her to meet him at the Yacht Club with a new supply. She kept several flats in her fridge for him just in case. Hed hop on his Sea-Doo 200 Speedster with its twin 155-horsepower jet drives and take off across the lake. The boat looked like something Batman might drive. It was twenty feet long, with a sleek, narrow front, aluminum rails, an extra-high wakeboard bar, and huge wings on the sides. It was so complicated, only he knew how to operate it. Although he wasnt a member of the private yacht club, hed tie up, hop out, open the gate and let his mother through. If anyone hassled him, hed laugh and tell them to relax. No one intimidated Bob Probert.