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Both teams are running at each other, and it's just a matter of time before
the fists and elbows start flying. You and the opposing player go
into the corner together, and you hit him and he falls on his ass--you
just know he's going to come back at you like a rabid dog.
Before you know it, you're in the middle of something.
A 200-pound guy skating 25mph has the potential to do a whole lot of damage.
Now the guys are much smarter,
bigger, and stronger, and they actually work on being better fighters.
Honest. They'll wrestle with their teammates after practice, all
the better to stay upright while they're trying to pull the other guy's
jersey over his head. Maybe later on they'll go to the gym and work
out on the heavy bag like they're Evander Holyfield. Me, I boxed
a little last summer, but it was really only for conditioning. After
all, in a hockey fight, the first thing you do is throw down your
gloves.
Today's enforcer will even
go to the guy in charge of team uniforms for help. Certain guys wear
baggy sweaters--kind of a goalie cut--because they feel it gives them an
advantage. The theory is that you can still swing even though the
guy's holding on to your jersey. It's just another attempt to screw
with the rules. A couple of years ago the league began to crack down
on guys pulling jerseys over the other guys' heads, and now you have to
have the jersey tied down--if it comes over your head, you get a game misconduct
penalty. The tie-downs took away a big advantage. I used to
love it when my jersey came off, pads and all. Then I could swing
away and the guy wouldn't have anything to grab onto.
In the end, winning a fight
comes down to the basics. The first is balance. If you want
to dish it out, you've got to stay on your feet. This isn't the WWF
on Ice--once one guy falls he's pretty much finished. If both guys
have good balance, it's probably going to be a half-decent fight.
Above all, you've gotta
be in shape. A hockey fight is one of the toughest things in sports.
In a good 30-second fight, the two guys will land more punches than in
a 12-rounder on pay-per-view. There are times when I've had a fight
in the first period of a game, and every inch of my body feels tender,
like overripe fruit.
A lot of bruisers out there
claim that getting in the first shot is really important. It's a
total myth, I say. I'd rather get in the most punches.
Remember, in hockey fights there are no body shots. The decision
making is pretty basic: Do I hit him in the mouth? In the
nose? Upside his ear? Do I like hitting guys?
Let's just say I like it a lot more than I like getting hit. I don't
worry about anything fancy. I just swing as hard and as fast as I
can until the officials break it up.
Guys get hurt during fights,
but here's a reality check: You're much more likely to get badly
injured just playing. Think about it. 
A 200-pound guy skating 25 mph smashing you into the boards has the potential
to do a whole lot more bone-pulverizing damage than the same guy throwing
a couple of left hooks with bare knuckles.
If you get cut or you get
knocked down during a fight, you're not going to get rushed to the hospital
or anything. Cuts are actually as much a part of hockey as the Canadian
National Anthem. You're bleeding like a stuck pig, and the trainers
will just steri-strip it on the bench and then stitch it up between periods.
Some guys have the area frozen before the stitches, but I just tell 'em
to sew me up and get it over with. It's quicker, there's no swelling,
and hey, a little pain builds character.
Every now and then, serious
injuries do happen in fights. Once in a fight with Todd Ewan, he
caught me with a couple of good shots and knocked me out cold. They
took me off on a stretcher, the whole bit. Even worse was a couple
of years ago: I got in a fight with Sandy McCarthy, and he kept grabbing
onto my arm and twisting. Tore the shit out of my rotator cuff.
We kept right on fighting, and I even played a couple more games, but when
the doctors really checked it out, I had to have surgery, and I was on
the shelf for the rest of the season.
For the most part, though,
when the scrum's over, it's over. No hard feelings. Everyone
thinks Tie Domi and I have a blood feud going, but that's not how I see
it. We've gone at it plenty, and I'm sure we'll go at it again, but
there's mutual respect. He's got a job to do, and he does it well.
I can appreciate that, although I appreciate it most when he's pummeling
some other guy.
PROBIE'S
GREATEST
FIGHTS
The good news:
They can ice the swelling right away.
The Grudge
Match
The Scene:
Chicago v. Toronto, April 15, 1998.
The Opponent:
Tie Domi,
perhaps hockey's most hated enforcer--and Probert's frequent adversary
throughout the '90s in some of the nastiest fights in hockey history.
The Provocation:
Probert's Blackhawk teammate Cam Russell is knocked unconscious and has
to be carried out on a stretcher after a fight with Domi.
The Action:
Picture a Charles Bronson movie on ice. Domi launches a preemptive
strike, dropping his gloves and landing a rat-a-tat-tat combination on
Probert's face. The surprise attack only provokes Probert--like poking
a bear with a cocktail fork. The enraged winger throws a haymaker
at Domi's head; as Domi tries to retreat,
Probie pulls him back by his jersey and uses Domi's head like a speed bag,
landing a near-record 35 punches. Domi's blood-smeared face looks
like he has survived a head-on auto crash. Barely.
The Outcome: Probert,
by TKO.
The Curly
Shuffle
The Scene:
Calgary v. Detroit, April 2, 1994.
The Opponent:
Sandy McCarthy,
a no-nonsense forward who would tear Probert's rotator cuff in a fight
the next year.
The Provocation:
In one of his last games as a Redwing, Probert challenges one of the league's
up-and-coming tough guys behind the net with a vicious elbow that knocks
his helmet off.
The Action:
Looking to make a name for himself by taking on the NHL's alpha dog, McCarthy
dominates the first half minute, landing two punches for each of Probert's,
pummeling the Redwing's face raw and puffy. Probert's legendary ability
to take a punch saves him: He does his best Three Stooges imitation
and head-butts McCarthy. Thwock! The Calgary player
drops to the ice like overcooked pasta. N'yuk, n'yuk, n'yuk.
The Outcome: Probert
by knockout.
The pair exchanged punches by the dozen. In the early going, Probert
batters McSorely until his face resembles ground chuck. 30 seconds
into the fight, he knocks McSorely to the ice, but the Penguin gamely get
up and takes his medicine for another full minute. When officials
try to put an end to what becomes one of the fiercest fights in NHL history,
McSorely valiantly growls, "Leave us alone." Hockey's answer to the
Thrilla in Manilla establishes Probert as one of the greatest fighters
of all time.
The Punch
Heard Round the World
The Scene:
Detroit v. New Jersey, January 28, 1991.
The Opponent:
Troy Crowder,
a young goon.
The Provocation:
In a fight during the opening week of the season, Probert slips and the
opportunistic Crowder pounces on him before he can get up, bloodying Probert
and rendering a rematch inevitable.
The Action:
Payback time. The first few seconds are close, as both players lose
their helmets. Inspired by the crazed Joe Louis Arena crowd, Probert
lands one of hockey's legendary combinations: a right uppercut that
staggers Crowder, and another that leaves him squirming on the ground like
a squid on calamari night. A humiliated Crowder seeks revenge later
by jumping Probert from behind, a pathetic act of reprisal that's broken
up in a few seconds.
The Outcome: Probert,
by TKO.
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