Someone Skates In and Hope Follows

Sometimes, holiday charity is as simple as writing a check.

Other times, it is as complicated as removing a mask.

Jamie Storr did the latter Sunday afternoon, his best appearance as a King coming fewer than 24 hours after one of his best games.

In front of a small group of Japanese-American children at the Kings’ training complex, he displayed his black and purple goaltender’s face shield, with its elaborate white dragons and Japanese lettering.

Then he took off his other mask.

“You and I, we have the same heritage,” he said.

The children’s eyes widened. Jamie Storr? Sandy hair, Caucasian features, Canadian accent?

Japanese?

“Let me tell you about somebody ... “ he said.

He then told them about the late Keiko Storr, his Japanese mother who taught him to honor roots that few would notice.

He explained that the Japanese lettering on the front of his mask is his name in his mother’s native tongue.

He explained that the dragons were in honor of their culture.

He spun the mask to reveal a tiny Japanese flag on the back, adjacent to her initials.

“My mom taught me to be proud of who I am,” he said.

Last weekend, as one of only four players of Japanese heritage in the NHL, Storr shared that pride with the kids of the neighborhood.

They hardly believed their eyes.

“I had no idea he was Japanese, he sure doesn’t look like it,” said Michael Inouye, 13.

“Seeing him today is like telling us, everyone gets a chance to do something.”

*

Sometimes, holiday charity is as simple as buying a turkey.

Other times, it is as complicated as running a contest in a newspaper.

This is how Storr found his kids.

The ad contest appeared in “The Rafu Shimpo,” Los Angeles’ Japanese newspaper.

The first 20 children who could correctly identify the four Japanese-heritage players in the NHL would win four tickets to the Kings’ game against the San Jose Sharks on Saturday, and an invitation to a free clinic Sunday.

There were about 50 entries with the correct answers of Paul Kariya of the Ducks, brother Steve Kariya of Vancouver, David Tanabe of Carolina, and Storr.

Saturday, the winners watched Storr record 22 saves, and even stop a penalty shot, in the Kings’ 3-1 victory.

Then Sunday, during nearly two hours of activities, they listened to his reminder that this is a game for everyone.

“It is no problem being here,” he said. “I am honored to be here.”

Not paid. Not forced by contract. Not asked by anyone.

Honored.

“If one child of Japanese heritage hears this message and maybe realizes that this game is for him, too, then it’s been worth it,” he said.

When you think about it, isn’t holiday charity just like that?

It’s not about giving. It’s not about receiving.

It’s about both, all at once.

It’s about a connection.

“This here,” he said, gesturing around the Kings’ training facility Sunday at gleaming kids, some of whom have never skated. “This is my stamp.”

*

When Keiko Storr arrived in Canada from Japan at age 29, she didn’t really understand hockey.

Today, observers in Los Angeles say the sport is still barely a blip on the nation’s landscape, ranking far behind basketball and baseball.

That didn’t stop her from cheering for Jamie when, at age 5, he would skate around the kitchen imitating players.

That didn’t stop her from attending his games when he was 11 years old and, according to his Canadian father, not trying hard enough.

“There was a period when my father wouldn’t go to my games because I was just having fun and not trying to get better,” Storr recalled. “My mom didn’t think like that. She always went just because I was her son.”

During summers, the family would travel to Japan to soak in the culture--and the stares.

“We would go into restaurants where there were no tourists, and my grandfather would always look at my mother and say, ‘I can’t believe he doesn’t look even a little bit Japanese,”’ Storr said.

Back in their surbuban Toronto home, though, Storr was constantly reminded of his heritage with Japanese artwork on the walls and seaweed on the dinner table.

At school, where everyone knew his parents, a teacher once exclaimed, “Except for two children here, we have an all-Caucasian class.”

He knew she was talking about him. That day he looked in the mirror and wished that everyone would only see the mask.

“There was a time when I really wanted be only white, I didn’t want to be mixed anything,” he said. “But then my mom would tell me, ‘Yeah, you’re different. But be proud of that difference.”’

In the spring of 1996, while former first-round pick Storr was playing in the minor leagues at Phoenix, his mother phoned him with an oddly timed request.

“She told me she missed me, she wanted me to come home, she wanted to see me,” he recalled. “I told her, of course I’m coming home, in a couple of months, after the season.”

A week later, he came home to stand by her bedside as she died after abruptly suffering an aneurysm.

You know how most pro athletes miss a couple of days when a parent dies? Storr missed a month.

“If the Kings couldn’t understand that my mom was that important to me, then I couldn’t play for them,” he said.

The Kings understood.

And now Storr, whose eight years here makes him the King with the longest tenure, understands he must keep his heritage alive.

“I have a soft spot in my heart for people of my culture, people who remind me of my mom,” he said. “I want to do something with that.”

So on Sunday, Storr painted a helmet with Tylor Vickers, an 11-year-old boy who loves hockey but can’t play because he can’t walk without crutches.

“I finally met a real hockey player,” said Vickers.

With lessons that didn’t involve ice or skates, Storr wowed the kids and charmed their parents, who watched wide-eyed from bleachers as if they were watching The Great One.

“It is so good for our kids to connect with someone like themselves,” said Mark Umekubo, father of 10-year-old Matthew.

“It gives them a little bit of hope that they can do something maybe they thought wasn’t possible.”

A little bit of hope. Nothing complicated about that.

THE TIMES HOLIDAY CAMPAIGN

Tax-deductible donations: Gifts (checks or money orders) should be sent to L.A. Times Holiday Campaign, File # 56491, Los Angeles, CA 90074-6491. Please do not send cash. Credit card donations can be made at: https://www.latimes.com/holidaycampaign. Contributions of $25 or more will be acknowledged in The Times unless a donor requests otherwise. For more information about the Holiday Campaign call (800) 528-4637 (LATIMES), ext. 75480.

*

Bill Plaschke can be reached at bill.plaschke@latimes.com.