Muslim Nazem Kadri is emerging from the background as one of the best

a story that Sam Kadri has told countless times before, but he is telling it again because 22 years later he still cannot believe it.

The night that his wife went into labour with their second child, Kadri was stuck at work and got a call from his brother asking him to get to the hospital immediately. So he got into his car and drove as fast as he could. And as he did, Tom Cochrane's Big League, a song about a father who hopes his son will some day play in the National Hockey League, played on the car radio.

"Honest to God, that's the truth," he said. "I knew right then it was going to happen. Like it was a sign."

That paternal optimism is not exactly unique. Nearly every Canadian — whether they are from the beaches of British Columbia or the fishing villages of Prince Edward Island — dreams that his son is going to play in the NHL. What makes this one special is that Sam Kadri was born in Lebanon and his son, the Toronto Maple Leafs forward Nazem Kadri, is a practising Muslim.

"It's typically an Anglo-Saxon game," says Sam Kadri, whose parents immigrated to London, Ontario, about an hour's drive west of Toronto, when he was four years old. "That stigma of being Muslim is always going to be with him."

That perceived "stigma" might be changing. And it might be because of Nazem Kadri. The 22-year-old Lebanese-Canadian is not just the best Muslim hockey player. He is also one of the best hockey players. Period.

In 37 games, he has 17 goals and 39 points, placing him first in scoring on his team and among the top 10 in the NHL. Slowly, people are starting to notice the fresh face in today's game, even though some announcers are still having difficulty pronouncing his name.

"It's one of the things I take pride in," Nazem Kadri says of being Muslim. "I know there's not a lot of guys with the same background as me. It's already become such a diverse sport, I just think years down the road with more guys being shown in the media there's going to be even more guys with different backgrounds.

"I take pride in being a role model and attaining a certain reputation that everyone can base their lives on. I'm sure there's a lot of little kids out there who are pretty happy to watch me play. I think it just gives them a little boost of confidence, because it doesn't matter where they come from or how they were raised. If you're good enough, you're good enough."

From a young age, he was always good enough. Too good, jokes his father, who steered his son towards hockey by building an ice rink in their backyard and letting his son practice his slap shot indoors on their hardwood floors.

For Sam Kadri, the sacrifice was worth it. Hockey was the ultimate Canadian passport to acceptance. When he arrived to Canada, in 1968, hockey was all his friends at school talked about. So, naturally, he became a fan, playing street hockey with a tennis ball and watching his beloved Montreal Canadiens on television. He never played organized ice hockey because, as one of seven children, his parents could not afford the high costs of the sport. It was one of his regrets.

"I was always envious of my friends," Sam Kadri says. "I said in my head that when I get a son, I'd make sure he plays."