Rinne was a Hall of Fame person as well as goalie, Vanderklok says

Ben Vanderklok first began working with Pekka Rinne in 2014, when he was hired to be the Nashville Predators goaltending coach. Rinne already was Nashville's long-established No. 1 goalie. One year apart in age, with Vanderklok approaching his 33rd birthday and Rinne his 32nd, a relationship was formed a dozen years ago that continues today. They worked together as goalie and goalie coach until Rinne's retirement following the 2020-21 season. Now they work together in the Predators' goaltending department, with Vanderklok still the goaltending coach and Rinne the club's European development coach and scout. They have become great friends and rely on each other's friendship and insight almost daily. As such, who better than Vanderklok, who will be on hand for Rinne's induction into the Hockey Hall of Fame on Monday, to give NHL.com readers an inside peek behind the scenes at what "Peks" is really like.

My relationship with Pekka Rinne started my first year in the League.

We're only a year apart in age and I remember not knowing what this is going to be like. I remember thinking, "Yeah, I'm excited to get my first NHL opportunity, but also it's Pekka Rinne and we're almost the same age." I remember having a couple of weeks wondering how this is going to be.

But I also remember our first conversation and how engaged he was. He was all in and he made me feel like I was important to him right away. He made me feel like an extension of him, and I felt like we would do good things together.

It was his personality that made me feel that way right from Day 1.

He's the most respectful, humble person you could possibly meet. His list of accomplishments is impressive, but his greatness can't be measured by that. It's measured by who he is as a person.

He is the epitome of what it means to be a great human being, someone whose kindness and impact on others far surpasses anything he did on the ice. People remember the impact he had on them by how he made them feel. That sums him up.

In terms of our working relationship, I remember one time I asked him, "What are your expectations of me?" He said, "You're energized, detailed and a tireless worker, and I want you to be my eyes and ears for everything to help my game." I tried to be true to that.

Our relationship built over time and trust is earned on both sides, but we're very similar in our way of thinking. One time we did a personality assessment on the players to figure out how to coach them best and ours lined up. It's kind of crazy how it did, but that's how I always knew if he was feeling something, I was feeling it too, and vice versa.

We had a great working relationship. He was a tireless competitor, such a fierce competitor. He led by example in his work. He hated to lose. He wanted to be in the net. He wanted to work.

Pekka was meticulous in his craft and never believed less was more. He would always say knowledge is power. He was true to the way he studied the opposition and himself. He poured his heart and soul into the game and anyone around him knew that.

We had a player-coach relationship and we never crossed that line. We're probably better friends now than we were when we were trying to reach our goals when he was playing. But I truly cared about him like a son. 

You're trying to help him do his thing and you want to see him do well, reach and accomplish all of his goals and his dreams. That's how I approached it and really, truly felt. He gave so much every single day on his end that I knew I owed it to him to reciprocate.

Every day wasn't rosy. We had tough times, like when I might find him in his stall or in the back change room and he hadn't even gotten out of his gear yet because he was so upset about his play or whatever. I might be driving home from the game and he'd call me and he'd be in a tough spot.

Those are calls you don't plan on getting because you go into each game with a positive outlook. You don't want to get those calls. They're the calls that the outside world never knows about. But, as a parent myself, if they're going to make those calls, you know they're needing someone in the moment, and you appreciate being the person they're reaching out to. We had that.

It was all his doing. It was all his investment. He invested so much into it and cared so much about the game and doing the right things. I wanted the same for him because I knew how much he really wanted it.

Everyone has heard the line, "Don't tell me, show me," and he showed you every day how much he cared about not only his preparation, but his teammates.

When Juuse Saros came in, I mean, players know players and he knew Saros was going to be a player, but he did everything to try to help him get his job.

You don't see that. You don't find that. But that just speaks to who he is.

He'd let "Juice" borrow his car. He'd have him over to his house for dinner all the time to try to help him get acclimated. On the ice they'd help each other. He truly took him under his wing while realistically knowing he was a threat, and they became great friends. It was incredible.

People don't know that because they don't see that, but it happened and it happened all the time.

We didn't talk a lot about him retiring, but near the end he'd make the odd reference here and there. He'd talk about when he retires he wants to be able to say he could still play. He didn't want to just hang on. He respects the guys who play until they have no games left in them, but he didn't want that.

So, I remember his last game here in Nashville. He had a great game. He got a shutout and kind of organically he took a lap around the ice. It was the perfect sendoff for him. That's when it hit me that it was real. It makes me tear up thinking about it now, writing about it. It really hit me then that this is happening.

I never took for granted what I had with him. I knew what I had in terms of the human being. I knew I was in the best place. I knew I was the luckiest goalie coach to have a guy like him. I knew how fortunate I was. I knew how fortunate the organization was to have him.

But never for one second did I think about how is this going to affect me when he's done. I never thought about that side of it. I often thought, what is he going to do? Where is he going to go? Where will he live? I never once said, "What am I going to do when he's gone?"

Well, it took a chunk out of me. The next year I missed him being around. I missed seeing him on the bike every morning, going over to him and making small talk. I missed the daily grind together, trying to get one save better. I missed having that relationship. That was hard. That was hard to swallow.

So that first year I'd call him after games and ask if he could take a look at Juice's clips for me so I'd get his insight, what he saw, his advice on maybe how to handle some situations. That has filled the void and now we have more of a friendship now than we did when he was playing.

It's an honor to call him a friend and I know I was the luckiest goalie coach to have him. He changed me and my life on so many levels.