NASHVILLE -- Mike Maguire knows nothing of legacies nor, really, the business of hockey.

The 49-year-old knows only this: that his good pal Shea Weber, the guy who used to take him to movies or out to lunch on his birthday or to a Vanderbilt baseball game and, on occasion, let Maguire hold Weber's Olympic gold medals, is coming home.

It doesn't matter that Maguire, who has Down syndrome, thought that perhaps Weber was returning to Nashville this week to don his familiar No. 6 sweater with the captain's "C" embroidered on the chest and rejoin Maguire's beloved Predators after a too-long absence. What is infinitely more important is that Maguire was among the first people Weber called after the longtime Nashville Predators captain was dealt to the Montreal Canadiens last June -- in a blockbuster deal that brought former Norris Trophy winner P.K. Subban to Nashville -- to reassure Maguire that he would always be his best buddy. Always.

"That makes Michael happy to know," said Maguire's mother, Dee. "He knows [Shea's] not here, and he can hardly wait for him to come back."

A legacy is a kind of ethereal thing, no?

Had the Predators won a Stanley Cup during Weber's 11 seasons in Nashville, you could start there when discussing just what he meant to the franchise -- and vice versa. But the fact that Nashville never won more than one playoff round in any postseason is one of the reasons that GM David Poile swallowed hard and traded away the face of his franchise.

That doesn't mean that Weber's legacy in Nashville wasn't a lasting one, though.

"One thing about Shea I can tell you is this: He may not always be the most boisterous guy in the room, but he's the guy who gets everybody's attention," former Predators coach Barry Trotz told me recently. "Even when [other] guys aren't doing what's right, he has that ability to do what's right -- not only for the team, but for the community.

"He took ownership of everything he does on the ice, off the ice," continued Trotz, now the head coach of the Washington Capitals. "That's what you call a true pro. He's not doing it for attention. He's doing it for the right reasons."

At Vanderbilt University's pediatric cancer ward, there are constant reminders of the strong connection between the Predators and facility's patients and staff. The fact that Weber now sports the historic bleu, blanc et rouge of the Canadiens might give some hard-core fans pause. But for those who knew Weber away from the rink, the memory of what he did while a Predator will always remain golden.

Weber and Predators netminder Pekka Rinne, left, were the driving forces behind Vanderbilt University's 365 Pediatric Cancer Fund, which helps raise funds for cancer research. John Russell/Vanderbilt

Weber and his good pal, Predators goalie Pekka Rinne, were two of the driving forces behind the 365 Pediatric Cancer Fund, which helps raise funds for cancer research with an eye toward innovative treatment of the disease in children. The fund has specifically helped in the field of stem-cell transplants and has aided in treatment of bone tumors that are more common in adolescent patients.

But Weber's connection to the fund -- and to the kids and families it has helped -- wasn't just about cutting a check or about bringing a few Predators T-shirts and posing for photos at Vanderbilt. Weber visited with scientists and doctors and other staff. He toured the facility and then spent time with the kids. As Luke Gregory, the CEO of the Monroe Carell Jr. Children's Hospital at Vanderbilt, puts it, Weber shared a little bit of their journey. And that is no small thing.

What separated Weber and a handful of other high-profile, often-music-industry-related residents -- and what still resonates for Gregory -- was the habitual nature of his visits. They rarely, if ever, coincided with television cameras or reporters. But they happened regularly nonetheless.

"There's a discipline around sport, and there's always a great discipline around volunteerism," Gregory said in a recent interview. "You want to practice it, you want to get better at it."

That's why, at least in part, Weber's return to the Music City will be marked in a far different manner than, say, the return several years ago of longtime Nashville defenseman Ryan Suter.

"He took ownership of everything he does on the ice, off the ice," said former Predators coach Barry Trotz of Shea Weber, shown here at a Best Buddies event with Maguire. "He's not doing it for attention. He's doing it for the right reasons." Dee Maguire

Suter and Weber were the first significant homegrown stars of the Predators franchise. But in the summer of 2012 Suter opted for free agency and signed a 13-year deal worth $98 million with the Minnesota Wild.

I was on hand for Suter's return to Nashville the following season. The fans booed him mercilessly. Still do. It was a reaction that seemed to mystify Suter, who did much for the city during his time in Nashville as well.

But the dynamics of their respective departures were different, and so Weber's storyline is distinct, which means his return will be marked in a different manner.

That Weber remains a beloved figure in Nashville regardless of his jersey doesn't surprise Anneliese Barron, who helped create the Best Buddies program. It matches people of varying ages in Tennessee with Down syndrome with other folks in the community.

Trotz was a huge supporter of Best Buddies -- his son Nolan has Down syndrome -- and one day, former Predators defenseman Dan Hamhuis, another avid supporter, asked a teammate to get involved and take on a buddy. The teammate was Weber.

"I'm like, 'Oh my gosh, of course, I can make that happen,'" said Barron, who is originally from Montreal but has made her home in the Nashville area.

Weber and Rinne were matched with Maguire and provided Mike and his family with season tickets every year to Predators games. It's easier to count the number of home games Mike hasn't been to since, than ones he has -- such is his love for the team, Dee said.

Weber and Maguire have done fundraising walks together. Once, when Weber was slated to present a sizable check to Best Buddies at a charity event, he made a point to bring Mike to help out, telling his friend that they had work to do.

For the Maguires, who have lived in the Nashville area for the past 16 years, and for Barron and others who have seen Weber's work firsthand, his legacy isn't such a hard thing to get their heads around.

"That has been a very, very important part of our lives," Dee said.

But a legacy, by its definition, isn't about what has already been done, but how it can be a catalyst for future things.

Among the pictures Barron shared is a more recent one featuring current Nashville defenseman Roman Josi and some Best Buddies clients.

In some ways, Weber -- and before him, young defenseman Seth Jones -- could be considered a tradable asset because of Josi. And it was the fine Swiss defender who approached Barron earlier this fall about making a significant donation to help fund new Best Buddies programs for elementary-school-aged children.

"I just have to imagine that Shea had something to do with that," Barron said. "It has a ripple effect, that kind of generosity and kindness."