Gretzky and Lemieux, Howe and Orr, Brodeur and Roy - and a select few others regarded to be among the best the game has ever seen - their numbers will never be worn again in the cities where they became household names and childhood heroes to so many.
And now Rinne's No. 35 will take its rightful place where it belongs - quite a feat for someone who couldn't even identify Nashville on a map when he was drafted almost 20 years ago.
But in time, he fell in love with the city, and its citizens have reciprocated the affection over and over again.
Hundreds have come before him, and many more will skate for the Predators long after that banner is permanently affixed high above the ice. Other numbers may join him in due time, too, but Rinne will always be the first - and that's the way it should be.
His name was chanted in his home rink during countless instances over the past decade-plus, the standing ovations too numerous to count, the appreciation for the goaltender too immense to measure.
But one thing is certain. When Rinne walks - not skates - in front of more than 17,000 inside Bridgestone Arena at the end of February one final time, the cheers will be louder and last longer than they ever have before.
No matter the volume or duration, however, young Paulus won't remember this moment either. But one day, as he grows up and learns of his father's fame, he'll eventually realize he had a front-row seat for the greatest moment of them all.
And when Paulus looks to the rafters one day, he'll see his dad's No. 35 looking down on all those who have the honor to play and cheer for this team.
Without the elder Rinne, the franchise simply wouldn't be what it is today. For that reason - and so many more - Pekka Rinne's number will never be worn again by a member of the Nashville Predators.
Bravo, and thank you, Peks.