Ryan O'Reilly grew up with more than 50 siblings — his older brother Cal, two sisters and 49 foster kids.

The family lived in a converted, two-story schoolhouse that was built in 1909 in the prairie town of Brucefield, Ontario.

"We're like, 'How did our parents do this?' " said Ryan, a forward who signed a four-year, $18 million contract with the Nashville Predators this summer. "Just the chaos."

Chaos was no stranger to them. Their mother, Bonnie O'Reilly, is the 12th of 14 children. Their father, Brian O'Reilly, is the youngest of five.

Both have been in the social work field for more than 40 years, in large part because of a chance encounter Brian had some 60 years ago when a police officer spotted the boy, then 6 or 7 years old, sitting on a curb, sobbing outside his family's home.

He wept alone.

Brian's father, who drank often, was being hauled off in handcuffs after yet another domestic disturbance call.

The boy felt a soft tap on his shoulder, his tears and fears interrupted by words he'll never forget. Words that changed his life for good.

"He said, 'Son, when you look at this, remember this is a choice. You don't have to live the way they live,' " Brian said. " 'Don't ever forget that.' "

Brian didn't.

He vowed then and there that one day, he would help others. He promised to try his best to give his kids better. He met a woman named Bonnie who would help him do just that.

And there was Bonnie all these years later, at Bellevue Ford Ice Center in Nashville, almost 1,100 miles from Brucefield. She was watching both of her boys at Predators training camp. Memories of their childhood danced in her head.

She was taking a rare break from watching six of her grandchildren — all 5 years old or younger, three belonging to each son and his wife — at the house both families shared during camp. Her eyes went back in time while she watched her sons perform drills together.

Cal had yet to depart for the Predators' AHL affiliate Milwaukee Admirals. Ryan's first season with the Predators was about to begin.

"She's on the phone taking pictures," Ryan said. "It's hilarious. It's just like we're kids again.

"I thought she might be waiting with cookies after for us or something."

Bigger than the Stanley Cup

Ryan O'Reilly's "Stanley Cup moment" took place with a stranger on June 11, 2019, at a Guitar Center at 1255 Boylston St. in Boston.

At least as far as his father is concerned.

That was the day before Ryan lifted the Cup above his head, when his St. Louis Blues defeated the Boston Bruins in Game 7. That was the day Ryan wandered into that music store and happened upon a young college student named John Corrado.

Corrado, a Bruins fan, held in his hands that day a Seagull brand guitar he had been eyeing.

He started strumming. Ryan, who has been known to bring a guitar or a ukulele on the road as a means of escape, grabbed a guitar and joined him.

"The kid could play," Brian said. "And my son said, 'You're really, really good.' The kid is like, 'Yeah, it's the guitar. It's an amazing guitar.' "

At 6:39 p.m. on the eve of the biggest game of his life, Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Final, Ryan O'Reilly bought that guitar for the kid he had just met. Two of his biggest passions — hockey and playing music — coincidentally collided.

"People ask me, 'What do you remember most about the Stanley Cup?' " Brian said. "That's my Stanley Cup moment. That even under all the pressure, you notice someone else and you recognize the needs of another.

"He saw some talent in someone else and you took a step out of your pressure to do that."

Ryan O'Reilly was no stranger to Corrado, who sheepishly recognized him that day. Who told him he had sold his guitar a while back but was thinking about getting back into music.

The gesture seemed natural to Ryan O'Reilly, who won the Conn Smythe Trophy the next day as the playoff MVP. The attention that followed on social media made uncomfortable the man who took home the Frank J. Selke Award as the league's best defensive forward that same season.

"It's something my parents would do," said Ryan, whose parents bought him his first guitar when he was 13. "It's something I love as well, that connection with music. I hope he finds his connection."

"Ryan is a serial winner," first-year Predators general manager Barry Trotz said. "Everybody around him is better."

The O'Reilly door is always open

Brian and Bonnie O'Reilly opened their home to troubled kids who struggled in regular foster care, a practice that began about a month before Ryan was born Thursday, Feb. 7, 1991.

That meant at any given time, there were two, three, four, five or more foster children living in that old schoolhouse.

"He had lots of kids to play with," Bonnie said. "But these kids, they had difficulties given what their life was like."

Those kids taught the O'Reilly kids a lot about compassion and empathy and love and acceptance.

Ryan was preparing to leave for hockey practice one day long ago when suddenly his priorities came into focus. One of the foster children started "freaking out."

"He had a hard day and I remember Dad was like, 'It sounds like you're not going to hockey tonight,' " Ryan said. " 'What do you think is more important, me helping him out or you going to practice?' It was a cool lesson — someone needs help through a tough time instead of my needs."

The learning and lessons didn't stop with childhood.

'He just knows people'

In March 2021, Bonnie donated a kidney to help save the life of Graham Nesbitt, who more than 20 years earlier had opened a local rink and played a big role in the lives her children.

Brian O'Reilly is a high-performance culture internal psychology coach. He's a counselor, a keynote speaker and a team culture expert who works with athletes, actors, dancers, pianists, CEOs. On his list of past clients are the San Jose Sharks.

Brian began working with his children when they were young. He taught them the importance of the mental aspects of life, how they apply to the game.

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To this day, he coaches his sons, after good games and bad.

"He just knows people," Ryan said. "He'll call me and be like, 'You look heavy out there. What's going on? Did something happen in the room?' I'm like, 'Yeah, actually, two guys got into it about this or that. How did you know that?' "

It's a secret only a parent can figure out.

Friends till the end

The grin creased his cheeks enough to expose the gap where Ryan O'Reilly's left front tooth once lived.

His eyes illuminated. Widened.

He was reminiscing about one of those foster kids, a boy two years his senior named Jason Birch.

Long before O'Reilly amassed 256 goals and 446 assists during his first 14 years in the NHL. He estimated that for a year and a half, when he was in sixth and seventh grade, he'd arrive home from school and find Birch waiting eagerly to put on pads and play goalie in the backyard. The two spent many a moon like this — O'Reilly trying to rifle tennis balls during the summer and pucks during the winter past Birch.

The NHL and the Stanley Cup and Birch having a family of his own seemed so far away. So improbable.

"We'd do breakaways, pretend like we're NHLers like Wayne Gretzky or something, in the backyard," O'Reilly said. "It was such a cool thing we shared together . . . Someone who has come from a rough background and connecting with him . . . it's so special."

Bonnie and Brian O'Reilly keep in touch with many of the children they fostered, even reunited Ryan with Jason a couple of years ago.

"He's doing well," Ryan said.

A man named Bill Bowler also had a profound impact on the O'Reilly boys. He played for the Windsor Spitfires of the Ontario Hockey League, scored the most goals in franchise history. His NHL career lasted nine games with the Columbus Blue Jackets during the 2000-01 season.

He was the NHL as far as Cal and Ryan were concerned. Now the Spitfires' general manager, Bowler is a cousin to the O'Reilly kids.

"I don't think we ever thought the NHL was possible," Ryan said. "It was like, 'Hey, maybe we could play in the OHL, too.' "

Ryan O'Reilly the sore loser

Ryan O'Reilly and defeat don't get along. Not even a little bit.

Cal and his friends often had a front-row seat to the riled-up Ryan show way back when on the prairie.

Cal is 4 years, 4 months and 2 days older than his brother. Still, he often included Ryan in the games with his older friends.

"When he lost, he would lose it," said Cal, who like Ryan plays center. "He would start throwing hockey sticks, anything he could find.

"As soon as he lost the game we would start running because we knew he would start chucking things. A couple of times he may have clipped some of us, but luckily no one was hurt."

They'd wind Ryan up, then watch him unwind.

"I was a bit of a wild card when I was younger, and he played off it," Ryan said. "He would get me so rattled and he knew exactly what to do to make me snap. He knew how to stir the pot and get my blood boiling. I would just lose my mind."

Cal always brought little brother along. He taught Ryan how to win. How to lose. How to play. How not to play. Even if that meant the brothers didn't speak to one another for days after a disagreement.

Ryan's family found it hilarious when he won the Lady Byng Trophy in 2014 while he was with the Colorado Avalanche. The award is given annually by the Professional Hockey Writers Association "to the player adjudged to have exhibited the best type of sportsmanship and gentlemanly conduct combined with a high standard of playing ability."

'It's bedtime'

The brotherly battles continued throughout their youth hockey careers — always heated but never overheated. They played together briefly in the NHL with the Buffalo Sabres in 2015-16 and 2016-17. They reunited for a couple of weeks at Predators camp this year.

The two managed to sneak in a concert at the Ryman before camp began, just the two of them. They saw one of their favorite instrumental bands, Explosions in the Sky.

Cal called it "one of the best shows we've seen."

No lyrics were necessary. The music spoke to them.

"To do it again, later in our career," Cal said, "even though it's a training camp, it's pretty special."

Just like all those years ago in rural Ontario, when the NHL was but a dream. When time and the ice was frozen. Long before 2005, when Cal was drafted in the fifth round by the Predators, with whom he'd spent parts of three seasons.

"You'd go out there and go, 'OK, it's bedtime,' " Brian said of winter nights trying to get the boys to come in. " 'You gotta get up for school in the morning.' It's like, 'Dad, it's tied.' "

The score was tied every night. Eighty-thirty often leaned into 9. The boys played in the dark.

Sometimes Ryan, the kid they still call "Snook" — a nickname he earned as a baby from his going-on-104-year-old Irish grandmother, Deirdre — would fall asleep in a chair in the living room while taking off his skates.

His parents, of course, were there then, too.

"I'd have to take them off," Brian said, "and carry him upstairs."

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This article originally appeared on Nashville Tennessean: Nashville Predators' Ryan O'Reilly molded by music, 50 siblings