In fact, much of the special praise Matthews was singled out for as a rookie on the ice summed up what we think we know of him off it. “He is good in his own zone” is one description. “He has defensive awareness” is another. The hockey jargon is a perfect match: Matthews lives within his own zone, a bubble of stardom, on the defensive rather than getting caught overcommitting — at least he did in Year 1. Will he choose a hauteur like Mario Lemieux’s, aloof and remote from the media and all others? Let’s just say, that’s easier to pull off in Pittsburgh than Toronto.

For a long time, the largest fan base in the NHL had no figure like Matthews — that is, a franchise player on talent and also the face of the franchise. Phil Kessel wasn’t emotionally equipped to play that game, only the game on the ice. He couldn’t have made his reluctance to engage any more obvious. Not since Mats Sundin has someone been in Matthews’s position and Sundin was equipped to handle all that came with it.

When he came to Toronto, Sundin was already a seasoned pro. And he wasn’t asked to carry the weight right away, he was just a knight in the court of Doug Gilmour. He had an opportunity to see all the upside and downside that comes with being the city’s franchise player. Gilmour ranged more widely, lived larger. Sundin was more in control. Sundin could laugh. Sundin could express frustration, although never to a boiling point or beyond. I don’t think he loved it, but he had enough respect to accept it and make the best of it. Neither Sundin nor Gilmour needed management, they had the social skills to manage themselves. But then again, they never had a media horde bearing down on them at the age of 20, asking their views about athletes kneeling during the anthem or police violence against minorities.