By now you all know that Probert died Monday boating on Lake St. Clair.  His father-in-law performed CPR but wasn’t able to revive him.  He was only 45.

I was devastated when I learned of his passing Monday afternoon.  I had a similar feeling back in May when Ernie Harwell died—crushed because a piece, no matter the size, of Detroit sports, even sports in general, was gone.  These were feelings that were unique and new to me, considering no one close to me has died.  It was weird because they were two people I really didn't have a emotional connection with.  I didn't grow up listening to Harwell call Tigers games on the radio, and I didn't grow up watching Probert destroy people on the ice at the Joe.

But maybe that's what made Probert such a large hockey icon.  The fact that people (well, kids I guess) like me can spend an hour or so looking back on his career shows what kind of hockey player and guy he was.  Sometimes we get lost in his fighting ability, but he actually was a really good player and makes you wonder how much better he could have been if not for the drugs and constant alcohol abuse.  (Which reminds me, I played pick-up with a friend of his I believe.  Someone that knew him pretty well.  In the locker room he mentioned that Probert would drink heavily before pick-up games and did drugs, cocaine I'm guessing, in between periods.  Really unfortunate.)  Look at his 1987-88 stats with Detroit:  29 goals, 33 assists for 62 points in 74 games.  All while committing 398 minutes worth of penalties.  He did that plus tallying 21 points in the playoffs that year.

What was the thing I've came to like the most about Probert?