This late stage of Alexander Ovechkin's NHL career has been a lesson in conservation. As Ovi skates through his first season since turning 40, comfortable in his reign as the league's all-time king of goals, his play feels like it's taken on a certain regal quality. He is grizzled, venerable, and so obviously distinguished from all the other men around him—even when he's not actually doing all that much. And when he makes a statement on the ice, as he's done with goals in his last two outings, it always feels like a special event.
Many parts of Ovechkin's game have fallen away with age. Last season, discounting the abridged 2021 campaign, he set new career lows in blocked shots, hits, and takeaways, as well as average time on ice per game. His broken fibula was also a rare knock for a guy who'd played so indestructibly for so long. But Ovechkin didn't crawl across the finish line in his chase to Wayne Gretzky's 894 goals; he zoomed into uncharted territory. A 44-goal year, tied for third in the NHL, allowed him to arrive at the mark well ahead of schedule. (Heading into last season, I think most assumed he'd be getting there right about now.) And even though you could watch him and process, intellectually, all the things that he wasn't doing out on the ice, the number 44 and the number 895 superseded everything. Ovechkin was still better than almost anyone at putting the puck in the net.
That regular season was a special one for the Capitals as a whole, too. Ovi wasn't racking up individually meaningful achievements for an ex-contender in ruins. Instead, Washington rebounded into a truly brilliant run, with veterans finding new ceilings and smart acquisitions slotting in neatly. They couldn't follow through in the playoffs, and the savvy observer expected some level of decline heading into this year, but the Caps still looked a potent team with a lot of danger in them.
There's plenty of time left, but what the Capitals are so far is third-worst in the Eastern Conference. Logan Thompson has been superheroic in net for them, allowing two goals or fewer in 11 of 13 starts. Everything else is pedestrian. Aliaksei Protas is off to a slow start after a breakout year, as is another still-developing talent in Connor McMichael. The special teams are underachieving. The skaters overall feel like a batteries in search of jumper cables. But Monday night was as good as it gets for this team: a win over a worthy opponent, at home, with Alex Ovechkin scoring the game-winner.
Ovi remains a tenacious and intelligent competitor, one who wants to use his energy reserves in the most impactful way possible. But in keeping with the shift in the Capitals, this season hasn't felt the same as last, even as he's passed the unprecedented 900 goals mark. The complete stats tell the tale of a guy who's an average contributor to Washington. The absence of power-play goals is downstream of those patented Ovi laser shots no longer burning a hole through the goalie's glove quite as forcefully as they used to. And the way the goals have come—six so far—evoke a vulture more than a sniper, including the one on Monday.
Early in the second period, Ovechkin was hanging out pretty close to the crease, initially protected by two LA Kings defenders. But he was freed by the threat posed by McMichael behind the net. One Angeleno went, irrelevantly, to block off the far side of the goal; the other moved toward McMichael. Rather than turn the puck over, the 24-year-old former first-rounder slid a nice quick pass between the oncoming man and the obstacle that was the net to hit Ovi's stick right on the tape. From there, it was target practice for goal No. 903, and the final one the Caps would score in their 2-1 victory.
That close-range thing was how Ovechkin slipped No. 902 past Jake Allen on Saturday, too, and it's indicative of a change in style now that he's in his 40s. On so many of Ovechkin's past goals, the opposition knew exactly what the Capitals wanted to do—get a one-timer to their Russian in the circle—and just got steamrolled by it anyway. But every one of Ovi goals so far this year has been sneakier than that—a product of old-man wiles. He'll shoot when the goalie's not expecting it, or scavenge something closer to the red line. They're not displays that will take your breath away, but they nonetheless announce something powerful: I'm still doing it. I don't know how much longer it's going to keep happening, or if the Capitals will be able to fight their way back into the playoff picture. But as someone who's watched him score for two-thirds of my life, there's a comfort in knowing that it's still not over yet.
