​From the bitter lens of a Vegas loss, I can’t help but ask: if there’s a trade deadline and players aren’t allowed to move after it, why doesn’t that same rule apply to coaches and executives? It feels shady that a team can fire its coach with a handful of games left in the season, bring in an outsider who pushes them deep into the playoffs, and then not even retain the fired coach once the season ends. It smacks of a double standard, doesn’t it?
Gotta start by saying I really do love the name. These questions are dripping with sour grapes, and I appreciate you forcing me to dive into them—haha. I don’t think Vegas turning the usual coaching carousel into a playoff sprint becomes the norm, and even if it does happen more often, I don’t see this as inherently shady. A lot had to align for them to ride that run: John Tortorella steadied a room that had started to drift away from Bruce Cassidy, and it felt like a perfect storm where nearly everything clicked just right to propel them as far as they got. It wasn’t random luck; it was a confluence of timing, leadership, and a bit of circumstance.
And if it does happen again? So what. I don’t see a moral gray area there. If you’re bold enough to pull the plug on your coach in April while the playoffs are still in reach, that’s a gamble with risk and reward. If it pays off, you earned the payoff—an extended playoff run and perhaps a shot at the championship.
Turning to the Avalanche and the Cale Makar chatter, is a trade even on the table? Paying 18 to 20 million AAV to keep him as a central pillar of the team’s contention makes sense only if the broader roster construction can sustain it. A deep, well-rounded roster beats relying on a couple of star players with uncertain support. So, what would fair compensation look like for Makar? Four number-one overall picks? As Mark Rycroft would say, “Nope. Never. Next.” And honestly, that kind of overreach is something most fans tend to overvalue—myself included.
The reality check is this: the NHL is changing. Superstars are here to stay, and as the cap creeps upward, paying top talent becomes more palatable and sustainable for teams that plan well. It’s just a matter of adjusting expectations to the new normal rather than clinging to old anxieties. When you break down the numbers, Makar’s absence would sting, but it wouldn’t derail a franchise if managed properly. For example, Nathan MacKinnon started making 12.6 million in 2023-24, with the cap at 83.5 million, meaning his salary represented about 15.1% of the cap. If Makar lands around 18 million on a hypothetical 114 million cap in 2027-28, that’s roughly 15.8% of the cap. It’s not wildly out of line with modern contracts, and it’s doable within a team’s longer-term planning—especially as the cap continues to rise.
So yes, there’s a new reality we all have to get comfortable with: when you have a superstar, you pay him. If you don’t, someone else will, and you may spend years trying to catch up. The question, then, isn’t whether this new reality is fair or unfair, but how smartly you manage your cap, your depth, and your leadership to build a sustainable contender.