Maybe you saw the show on OLN (now Versus) last spring which featured Jordin Tootoo and his family (Team Spirit: The Jordin and Terence Tootoo Story). Interspersed with video of them in their home in Rankin Inlet, Nunavut, were shots of the family in ceremonies for their son and brother Terence, who was found dead of an apparent suicide at 22-two years old.

I watched the show more than once, each time struck by the image of Jordin, drafted by the Nashville Predators with their sixth pick, 98th overall (fourth round) in 2001. He seemed to be a complex young man, someone with a brooding side, someone who might take the weight of being a role model to youngsters of his region as a heavy burden. Boy was I wrong, at least about the brooding part.

Jordin Tootoo is anything but a guy with a hurting soul, if my interview with him after the Predators played the Kings is any indication. In fact, as soon as I approached him in the locker room after the game, he stood up, smiled a huge grin, and looked me in the eye, happy to oblige the request for a chat. His interest in talking a little bit about his career and home were genuine, not forced, and his forthright answers to my questions were refreshing in an age when it seems like many hockey players say only what their media handlers have coached them to say.

Throughout our talk, it was clear that this guy is real. It’s not a stretch to say that he resembles Jarome Iginla in that regard. For instance, when I asked about his home up north, he replied with a personal detail, saying, “I talked to my parents yesterday, and there was a big blizzard. It’s minus 20 or 25 degrees Celsius there, and over here, it’s a totally different world. At the same time, I’m proud of where I come from.”

Asked to describe the geography of his region, he replied, “[There’s] isolation . . . being way up north. We’re only 200 miles south of the Arctic Circle, and the temperatures there are unbearable in the wintertime. Right now, the days are getting a lot shorter; [there’s] a lot of snow there right now.”

But at the same time, it’s not a place that he regrets coming from, nor a place that his family is in any hurry to vacate. “Our family is true to our roots. I’ll never forget where I come from. My parents, mom and dad and sister, they live up in Rankin Inlet, and this is their home. I don’t think they’re going to go anywhere anytime soon. They love it up there. The lifestyle is a lot more laid back, just everything in general, life is easier.”

He later added, “I go home every summer, and relax. Spend time with the family. I don’t get to see them during the wintertime. I love being out on the land, hunting, fishing.”

Isn’t that something he could do in Nashville?

[Chuckle] “Well, it’s not quite the same. The freedom that we get out there, being away from everything, being able to get away from the cell phone, and just being out with my dad. It’s like a downtime for us. He grew up on the land, lived off the land. So like I said, I’m very proud of where I come from.”

However, if I was wrong about Tootoo’s temperament, I was right about the complexity of the man, in the sense that the impression you get when you talk to the Predators’ number 22 is that of someone who understands his role both as a hockey player and as a spokesperson and role model for Aboriginal youth.

It wasn’t long into our talk that he said, “What people should know is to realize where I come from, and that not a lot of Aboriginal Native kids have the opportunities. [It’s] the isolation of being way up north. Down here in the southern states, people don’t realize how much they have handed to them. Growing up when I was a kid, I always had to work for everything. I think people don’t realize how lucky they are, when they see where I come from and the harsh environments and the obstacles we have to face.” Even so, he says it with candor, not heaviness.

Does Tootoo think of that when he’s out on the ice?

“Nope, absolutely not,” he said as he shows another big grin. “I think of winning, getting the puck deep, making the easy plays, and playing my game.” He later added, “I just take it one day at a time. Every day brings a new day. By reading the papers [about your progress], your mind wanders off. I’m more of an energy guy, an enthusiastic guy, and I just try to bring that every day to the dressing room.”

In his rookie campaign, 2003-04, Tootoo played 70 games with the Predators. In 2005-06, he split time between the Predators and Milwaukee of the AHL, where he had also played during the lockout.

In his 2005-06 AHL regular season, he played 41 games, recording 13 goals (13-14-27). In the NHL, he saw action in 34 games, with four goals (plus six assists for ten points). But last year after his Nashville campaign was over, he racked up nine goals (matching his career NHL total to date) in 15 playoff games with Milwaukee. How? “You get comfortable when you play more minutes. My goal is to go out there and establish myself.”

How’s he doing? This season, his game has seen him make all 28 starts for Nashville (through December 7th). His average ice-time is between seven and eight minutes, which is not a lot compared to some players. But he’s happy just being with the NHL team, and he makes his minutes count.

Consider that anytime you go to a hockey game, you’re actually watching 40 games, one played by each player on the ice. But watching Tootoo play is like watching another two games on top of that, at least judging by what he did in L.A. on Thursday night. He had one game going on the ice, and two others off of it.

On the ice, he flew. The first thing you notice about him is that his feet never stop moving. And he’s never seen a corner he’s been afraid to go into. Often, he gets there by skating across the ice in the opposition zone. And once he arrives, he crunches whoever might be fiddling around with the puck in the corner.

One of those crunches was delivered against Aaron Miller, the Kings defenseman who stands at least six inches taller than Tootoo. After the whistle, Miller skated to the front of the net and decked Tootoo, drawing a roughing penalty.

Tootoo’s play prompted the Kings’ Tom Kostopoulos, another guy noted for his grit, to say after the game, “He definitely made himself felt out there. He got us off our game; he got us to draw a penalty. He was more than effective against us tonight.” Tootoo played 7:53 and recorded two shots and three hits, which led the team.

On the bench, Tootoo played his other two games. One was while he sat in the middle of the group, which he did for most of the first period. His gaze rarely shifted from directly in front of him, as if he were gathering all his strength to play his shifts. Looking at him, it seemed like the building could fall down around him, and he would not flinch. Think of the eyes of an F1 driver when he sits in the cockpit waiting for the start of a race and you’ll be close.

The other game was also on the bench, and it took place during the second period, when he was at the far end of the pine, near the tunnel where the Nashville players entered and exited. Helmet off, he cleaned the visor, and then looked over at the fans seated to his right. Pretty soon, he was smirking in their direction, while they looked at each other and then back at him.

He was smiling. They were too. And like typical L.A. people, they were soon on their cell phones, likely reporting the encounter to friends. Perhaps they were working it into a “treatment” for a new film.

Tootoo again took the ice, and as he skated by their spot on his way back to the bench after the shift, he butt-ended the boards in front of where they sat. When asked about the encounter after the game, he said, “You know, you get a lot of emotions going on, and things happen.”

Were they being nice? “Well, it’s the opposition team, so I’ll let you figure it out.” Again, he smiled. Maybe they had gotten under his skin. To me, it just shows that he plays with real emotions, not artificially created passion.

Speaking of fans, Tootoo again talks with candor when he discusses Nashville. I wanted to know whether he can live a normal life there. “Nashville is not really a hockey city, so it’s quite enjoyable. We actually can go out and have meals without people bothering us. But at the same time, they are our fans, so we’re there for them. They cheer us on. Without them, it’d be a harsh environment to play in, without our home crowd [for support].” He understands that the game exists for the fans, and he exists for the game, rather than the other way around.

So what does the future hold for Jordin Tootoo?

In the immediate, he’s not particularly worried about going up and down from NHL to AHL as he did last year. “I take it one day at a time, stay on an even keel. I don’t get too high or too low. I’m young; I’ve still got a lot to learn.”

Still wondering about the country boy lost in the big city lights theory that seemed to be a subtext of the documentary I’d seen, I asked Tootoo what he’d done with his money. Does he drive a fancy car?

“Nope, I’m not a big showboat kind of guy. I’m just a regular human being who’s fortunate to be in the NHL.” And he means it. You can just kind of tell.

Asked whether he’s having fun, he replied, “It’s part of the game. If you’re not enjoying the game, there’s something wrong. But we’re here to win every night.” Earlier, he’d given credit to the leaders of his team, including Kariya, Sullivan, Dumont, and Timonen. “You see these guys working hard on the ice, and that’s what you want to do. I’m a man of few words.”

That’s enough about the now. In the longer term, if I were to guess what’s going to become of this player, I’d say that 20 years from now, Jordin Tootoo will have finished a successful playing career and gone back to university. He’ll have a degree and a teaching certificate or a master’s degree. But instead of teaching, he’ll be a governmental advisor on issues related to native Canadian people. And he’ll be making a difference in kids’ lives, coaching hockey. As he said, “I look at it as a lot more Aboriginal kids will be coming out of that region.” It seems like he might be interested in having something to do with that.

Think it can’t happen? Here’s a name you might want to look up: Morris Mott. He played 199 games with the California Golden Seals and a pair with the Winnipeg Jets, then of the WHA. He retired in 1977. Now, he’s not just Morris Mott, former NHLer. He’s Dr. Morris Mott, university professor.

So you want a guy to root for, someone who seems like his success isn’t taking him off his guard, someone who will probably be known as a decent person no matter how long his career lasts, and who will likely end up doing well for himself and others after he’s done playing? Then watch number 22. Buy a jersey with his name on the back and when you see him play, relish every minute of it, no matter how many or few they may be.