It is a rare and special thing, the unconditional love between a city and an athlete.

The recipe sometimes varies, but what Ottawa has with Daniel Alfredsson includes almost all of the key ingredients: an entire career played with one team, an unquestioned work ethic, a deep and meaningful commitment to the community, mutual respect and admiration and a personal character that seems to match, and even influence, the city's.

All that is missing is a championship or two, but you can't have everything.

Such a partnership happens neither often - perhaps once a generation, if that - nor easily. Boston's relationship with Ted Williams, for example, was much more complex. Imagine a home crowd booing Alfredsson, or him spitting on a fan in response, as Williams did in 1956. Picture Alfie refusing to acknowledge a standing ovation in his final game, as the Splendid Splinter did in 1960.

None of that would ever happen here, with him or with us. Daniel Alfredsson can do no wrong in the city's eyes, nor Ottawa in his, it seems. The city has become his adopted hometown, where he's raising a family and where he expects life after hockey to unfold.

It's tough to compare Ottawa and Alfredsson to stars and captains from other eras, when player movement was so much rarer and expectations of dynasties so much higher. But even some of the greatest players of all time - Gretzky, Howe, Orr - didn't finish their careers where they started. And for the greats who did, like Béliveau and Richard, there were different expectations of team performance and the additional dynamics of playing in a major media centre and one of the epicentres of the sport.

A better comparison might be the relationship between Baltimore and Cal Ripken. The Orioles were often competitive - and even won the World Series early in his career - but Baltimore isn't New York and the Orioles aren't the Yankees, Dodgers or Red Sox.

Alfredsson knew little of Ottawa before he moved here, but it soon became a perfect fit. His quiet, understated personality matches the city well, just as Ripken lined up well with the lunchpail ethic of Baltimore.

Part of Alfie's appeal is that his story started with-out big expectations. He wasn't chosen with a high first-round pick, like so many other Senators, but with the 133rd. The Senators even thought more highly of a defenceman named Mike Gaffney, whom they selected two picks earlier.

He arrived at a time when the team was in complete chaos, a new franchise with ownership and management troubles and - in his first season - three head coaches in just a few months. He emerged as a star during an otherwise horrible season. His rookie-of-the-year award was a silver lining and he became a quiet and constant presence during the tumultuous conclusion to Alexei Yashin's years in a Senators uniform, solidifying a bond between city and its new captain.

Turns out Alfredsson wasn't the rebound guy after Yashin jilted us; he was The One (or, as his jersey reads, the One-One).

This week, he has served as the unofficial host of the NHL All Star Game, welcoming the hockey fraternity to his city and acting as Ottawa's ambassador to the league. Somehow the postponement of our turn to host the event - delayed for a decade or longer until the new convention centre was built - has worked out for the best. In the absence of a surprise Stanley Cup run in the next two springs, this will be one of the crowning moments of Alfredsson's career.

There is something special about an All Star Game, of course, but in this case one thing is remarkably familiar. While it will be a rare opportunity to see 40 of the best players in the world (minus one selfish brat from Washington), the constant is that one of the teams will be, as is usually the case at Scotiabank Place, Team Alfredsson.

As the Senators point out, the event has showcased Ottawa to the world, but this has also been a chance for the city to publicly renew its vows with the longest-serving captain in the league, starting with the campaign that elected him to the lineup. And Alfredsson reciprocated this week with a big hint that he was likely to return for one more season.

A handful of special moments remain: his final game, maybe a milestone or two reached along the way, and the day when a pair of ones will be lifted to the rafters.

But such events are in dwindling supply. So, when Alfredsson steps on the ice today, the crowd will show its appreciation with full hearts. Enjoy the moment, Daniel. Cherish it, Senators fans.

There are few opportunities like this after today. And there will never be another Daniel Alfredsson.

Mark Sutcliffe writes about business, sports and running for the Citizen.