It was a tragedy, the toughest call you can ever take
Father of Scots basketball trailblazer Archibald reveals his anguish over the demons that took his son’s life too soon
THE accent is unmistakably rooted in Paisley, no matter that he has been an exile for two decades and more. Scotland never left Bobby Archibald even when he departed and made the USA his adopted home.
Ties that bind which cannot be broken. Ethics instilled on the basketball court which have served him well as an executive in the oil and gas trade.
‘The toughest guy I ever played with,’ maintains Alton Byrd, his illustrious team-mate on the great Murray International side of the 1980s which converted Edinburgh into a hotbed of hoops.
‘I wasn’t the fastest, I wasn’t the strongest but I was pretty sure I was going to be as hard and as strong as I could be,’ recalls Archibald, now 64 and living the good life in Houston, Texas with Heather, his wife and rock of 42 years.
‘That’s what drove me. I was going up against better players. I had to work harder than they did to get to the same level. That’s what spurred a lot of things in my career.’
The apple, in his case, did not fall far from the tree. His eldest child
Robert remains the only
There was always a pride about our game. It’s that Scottish mentality
Scot to ever play in the NBA, one of just a round dozen Brits to have plied their trade on the sport’s ultimate stage.
He, likewise, was an imperfect athlete. Flying at an altitude beneath the rarefied air inhabited by Michael Jordan and the deities defying gravity. From a professional debut with the Memphis Grizzlies, to Phoenix, Orlando, Toronto and out of the league within two years, Archibald would find his true niche at the highest levels in Europe.
‘A banger’ they called him. Undertaking the invaluable physical labours which those solely reliant on finesse could not. Like father, like son. ‘There was always a pride about our game,’ Bobby reflects of his era. ‘It’s the old Scottish mentality. I’ll give you all I’ve got and I’ll be happy to do it.’
That it was embedded in Robert’s DNA thrilled Bobby beyond compare. ‘To see him continue to work hard, that work ethic is what made us most proud,’ he admits.
With Heather listening on, there is a momentary crack in his voice as he deploys the past tense, a then-andnow that began on January 23 when they received news that converted dread into devastating reality.
Their offspring was revered throughout Illinois from his days playing for the state’s high-profile university team, investing his earnings on the court into building an insurance business and his heart into a second shot at love with his girlfriend Missy while doting on his own son Robbie.
And yet, it offered no insulation from the melancholy within.
Barely two months shy of his 40th birthday, he took his own life at home near Chicago. A gunshot wound, local officials reported. ‘A tragedy,’ declares Bobby, still mired in a grieving process which might never truly conclude.
‘He was going through a protracted divorce that couldn’t get settled. He was on anti-depressant medication. One of the risks of medicines like that is suicidal thoughts and he succumbed to that, not being in a great place with the divorce.
‘But he’d found a new partner in Missy and her kids and things were looking up. He’d really turned a corner and it was about trying to get the divorce sorted.
‘He’d made a new life. There were a lot of plans made, about how he was going to grow. It was just a tragedy, just one of the toughest phone calls you’ve ever taken.
‘You shouldn’t bury your children. But that’s unfortunately the way it turned out.’
His death resonated widely. Tributes flooded in — from comrades at his boyhood club in Dunfermline, to NBA leviathans such as LA Lakers and Spain legend Pau Gasol, to cohorts on the Great Britain side that distinguished itself at the
London 2012 Olympics. Moments of silence and applause within arenas across Europe and North America.
No surprise. I interviewed him many times. We broke bread and shared the odd beer. His wit was highly dry. However, his feet remained firmly on the ground.
A recipe to forge friendships wherever he ventured.
‘Heather is making a scrapbook for Robbie which he’ll get when he’s older,’ Bobby reveals. ‘Just to show him all the love that was given to his father after what happened.’
Inevitably, understandably, they ask themselves if somehow they could have hauled him back from the brink. But also if they might weave a safety net that cushions the fall of others.
Which is why the pair have established a foundation in his name at his alma mater which has already enticed donations from old acquaintances and complete strangers alike. To address a lack of aftercare for those who are asked to move mountains to realise their ambitions, but who can so easily plummet off a cliff when the spotlights are dimmed and darkness looms.
‘We’ve talked about it with his colleagues and friends,’ Bobby confirms. ‘There is nothing to be afraid of from talking about people. I’m sure we could have talked Robert through it but it was an impulse. It was done in the spur of the moment.
‘Even giants can shrink,’ he sighs. Even the strongest and toughest are not immune. But he adds: ‘If you can make people aware that it can happen, to reach out in that situation… that’s what I’d really like to see.’