When Nazem Kadri hoisted the Stanley Cup, he lifted a whole community along with it

This is a column by Shireen Ahmed, who writes opinion for CBC Sports. For more information about CBC's Opinion section, please see the FAQ.

Throughout these riveting NHL playoffs, my mind was not only on the results of the games but the impact of the winners. As the Colorado Avalanche inched closer to clinching their Stanley Cup final win, my thoughts turned to the Av's Nazem Kadri. 

Kadri is a Muslim man of Lebanese descent. Last month, Kadri's wife, Ashley, posted the hateful messages the Kadris are getting on an Instagram account that she runs for Jazzy, the family pet. Yes, people were sending violently racist messages to the account of a tuxedo cat. 

The majority of the abusers were purported to be St. Louis Blues fans who were livid that Kadri was involved in a collision with goaltender Jordan Binnington. (Binnington later admitted he threw a water bottle at Kadri while in search of a recycling bin. "It is what it is," Binnington said at the time. "It's hockey. It's a competitive game.")

But while the subpar environmentalist Binnington casually tossed a plastic bottle at Kadri for his transgression, along with it came a deluge of anti-Arab and anti-Muslim hate from fans. It got so bad that the National Council of Canadian Muslims (NCCM) and the Canadian Arab Institute (CAI) called on the NHL for a lifetime ban on the abusers. 

In the following game, Kadri scored a hat trick. As pleased as I was for Kadri the player, my concern for Kadri and the wider Muslim and Arab community was that the narrative would be that Kadri "fought back against racism" by playing his best game possible.

But was it that, or was he simply a hockey player trying to defeat an opponent? How Kadri and his family process and manage this kind of abuse and stress is not something we are entitled to know. Navigating through racist abuse and violent threats is deeply personal and upsetting. I am all too familiar with it. And the burden of eradicating racism should not fall only on the shoulders of those experiencing it.

But being able to push that weight off and play at a top level is astounding. It is also a burden that more than 90 per cent of NHL players do not have to manage. Like other racialized players, a vast minority in the NHL, Kadri is judged differently than others by media and fans.

WATCH | Nazem Kadri's Stanley Cup win celebrated by Muslim community:

Kadri may not be the first Muslim or Arab to play in the NHL, but he is definitely the most prominent Muslim hockey player in the world. And he is not shy about his cultural and religious identity.

Kadri is from London, Ont., where just over a year ago, Canada saw a horrific terrorist attack that resulted in the brutal murders of a Muslim family. Kadri expressed his condolences and sadness online. The Nazem Kadri Foundation pledged to focus its work on mental health issues this year. 

In a recent article for The Players Tribune, Kadri wrote about sharing his identity with his two-year-old daughter, Naylah. "I can't wait to take her to Lebanon so she can see her roots," Kadri wrote. "I want to explain to her what it means to be Muslim in North America."

The amount of support for Colorado's win, and Kadri in particular, was astounding to me. It wasn't only Muslim or Arab fans coming out, it was many marginalized and racialized fans cheering him on and holding space for that joy. To see a Brown, bearded man grin and hold up a trophy after a post-season filled with unwanted and unwelcome drama, injury and stress, was almost cathartic.

Kadri has been part of the Hockey Diversity Alliance and participated in a very powerful campaign to combat racism in hockey. He shared some of his experiences.