So here’s Connor McDavid once again dragging the Oilers to a point, and eventually a second one, all by himself:
He only went through three Jets this time, instead of the four Rangers he bent over his knee a week or two ago to score a goal that looked a lot like this goal. It’s just so easy for him. I can’t get over the finish, after he turned three Jets into those big spinny things at a carwash, as he simply lifts the puck into the top corner past one of the best goalies in the league in Connor Hellebuyck. It’s a dismissive finish. It’s almost a declaration that this is a waste of McDavid’s time, and he could do this just about whenever he wants. Which he could.
As I said about Mo Salah a little while back, there is something truly magical about a player doing things that the rest of the best players in the world can do nothing about. To watch an individual on a different plane is something you might get to see only two or three times in your lifetime. It’s not just that these are paid professionals on the other side. They’re also the best at what they do, and they’re completely helpless when McDavid is simply in the mood to make them so. They’re forced to watch like the rest of us, despite every effort to be more than that. It’s futile.
McDavid is on the same scoring pace he was last year, which was one of the best seasons any player in the NHL has put together. Except this time he’s not confined to just the Canadian division, but doing it against whatever is thrown against him in a normal NHL schedule. This isn’t normal, and we should soak it all in.
What power it must be to look up when receiving the puck, and just say to yourself, “Ha, there’s only three of them, I got this.”