In all aspects of life, Tony Proudfoot showed himself to be a true Canadian hero.
Tony Proudfoot was a Canadian hero.
While he probably would have been embarrassed or even humbled to be described as such, the reality is he did so much for the fabric of Canadian history, many times through acts of heroism.
It was Proudfoot, while playing for the Alouettes in the 1977 Grey Cup, who devised the idea for his team to attach staples to the bottom of their cleats in order to give them greater traction on the icy field.
It worked and the Als easily defeated the Edmonton Eskimos 41-6.
And it was Proudfoot, while working as a teacher at Dawson College, who risked his life to usher a student to safety after he had been shot during a 2006 shooting spree by a crazed gunman, who killed one individual while injuring 19 others.
And it was Proudoot, who bravely fought a disease and wrote about it with dignity and even a touch of humour, knowing he didn’t have long to live.
Proudfoot died on Dec. 30 after a battle with battle with amyothrophic lateral sclerosis, also known as Lou Gehrig’s disease. He was only 61. He was first diagnosed with the disease in May, 2007, and knew he would likely have no more than five years to live.
"You feel bad. He’s a part of your family," said Peter Dalla Riva, a teammate of Proudfoot’s for 10 years and who regularly joined him on the Als’ alumni hockey team.
"It’s kind of a sad day here for the Alouette family and the alumni."
On a larger scale, Proudfoot’s passing is sad for everybody who was privileged to know him or have a chance to meet him. He gave of himself willingly, generously and unselfishly.
And as he battled through a disease he knew would claim his life, he refused to take a knee and concede defeat. As recently as Dec. 15, he wrote a moving story about his life, and the disease he said is a "definitive death sentence."
"Goodbyes are never easy, in my case they have been the hardest," he wrote. "But I’m working my way through them with the deepest, heartfelt thanks I can muster. Do not worry about me; my incredible network will bolster and steel me for the very imminent inevitable. I so appreciate everyone’s support. Please remember, Love Tony."
Simple words, but ones that mean so much.
This was Tony Proudfoot, a different individual if ever there was one.
"He was always trying to find a way to win for the team like he did with the staples," Dalla Riva said. "Tony was always trying to find something for the team to give us the edge. He was always good at that; always coming up with different ideas. Sometimes you thought he was off the wall, but the majority of the time he was right on. He was always trying to make the team better, whichever way."
In a broader perspective, he was trying to do that for humanity in his everyday deeds and acts, some of them so remarkable they defied description.
In a sad way, the man who risked his life to save another human being couldn’t save himself from a fate that ravaged his body. But it did not dent his spirit. Even when he couldn’t talk, he used a special computer that allowed him to type his thoughts and communicate through an automated voice.
And he stood strong and proud on the Alouettes’ sideline as long as he could because head coach Marc Trestman wanted him to be there.
When healthy, Proudfoot tutored some of the Alouettes’ defensive backs, the position he played, and one of them, Davis Sanchez, now with the B.C. Lions, gave up a game-day cheque in 2010 to donate to the Tony Proudfoot Fund and ALS Society of Quebec.
The year before he offered to donate money to the charities for every interception he made and $100 for every one of the Als’ wins, which totaled 15.
During the 2010 playoffs, CFL Commissioner Mark Cohon presented Proudfoot with an award for Distinguished Leadership.
"The very first gift he gave our league, back in his playing days, was a display of athleticism, but the final gift he gave us was a lesson in humanity. And that may well be his most lasting legacy," Cohon said in a statement on Friday.
Tony Proudfoot gave of himself to help others, though sadly nothing could be done to save him.
"I know this will be my last December update," he said in his column. "Right now, I’m hanging on for Christmas, and it’s a tough slog and not a guarantee."
But he had a "very personal, positive mantra" that he lived by until his dying day: "Suck it up and get on with life (remember, no whining allowed!) and enjoy every day. What other option do any of us really have?" Words written by a true Canadian hero.
