DENVER, COLORADO – MAY 01: Cale Makar #8 of the Colorado Avalanche looks on prior to Game Six of the First Round of the 2025 Stanley Cup Playoffs against the Dallas Stars at Ball Arena on May 1, 2025 in Denver, Colorado. (Photo by Michael Martin/NHLI via Getty Images) NHLI via Getty Images
In an era overflowing with elite talent, Cale Makar stands apart as a generational defenseman—already shaping his legacy as one of the greatest to ever redefine what’s possible from the blue line, and one whose presence Avalanche fans can consider a rare and cherished privilege.
At this juncture, anyone still requiring a reminder of Makar’s greatness is either willfully in denial or beyond the reach of persuasion. He is such an incredible talent that it seems as if he shatters a record with every passing season—perhaps because he truly does. In 2022, Makar became the fastest defenseman in NHL history to amass 200 career points, achieving the milestone in just 195 games and surpassing the previous record of 207 held by Sergei Zubov.
And he did not stop there—Makar proceeded to achieve yet another remarkable milestone, reaching 250 career points in just 241 games and surpassing the legendary Bobby Orr’s previous mark of 247. Less than a year after eclipsing Zubov’s record, he had done the same to Orr’s, further cementing his place among the all-time greats.
What is even more remarkable is that Makar stands alone as the only defenseman in the NHL since 2000 to record three seasons of 85 or more points.
Pause for a moment and reflect on the Hall of Fame blueliners who have graced the ice over the past quarter-century—and yet, it is only Makar who has achieved this feat. Nicklas Lidström, a seven-time Norris Trophy winner, never reached that plateau. Scott Niedermayer, a four-time Stanley Cup champion with two different teams, fell short. Erik Karlsson, despite three Norris Trophies, has not accomplished it either. Not even Quinn Hughes—though Vancouver fans may fervently hope otherwise—can claim this distinction, though Hughes posted 92 points (17 goals, 75 assists) during the 2023–24 season, suggesting he may one day join this exclusive company. Hughes is, undeniably, an exceptional talent, yet the record remains Makar’s alone.
Of course, such comparisons may not be entirely equitable, for not every defenseman is a true dual threat. Moreover, those blueliners who excel in one dimension but lack all-around prowess are often overlooked for accolades—a slight that may be unjust, though, regrettably, the world is rarely fair.
Viewed through this lens, Avalanche fans should feel fortunate to have witnessed Makar’s brilliance over the past seven years (just not on TV), beginning with his highly anticipated debut in the 2019 Stanley Cup Playoffs. We are all guilty of losing sight of this at times. The pursuit of another Stanley Cup is always foremost in our minds, yet the dream can sometimes obscure the simple joy of observing—and the deep respect due to—these athletes each time they lace up their skates.
Makar Will Come Out Firing This Season
Consider, for a moment, what it would mean to inhabit Makar’s position. You are the cornerstone of a franchise, a player so integral to its identity that your departure is all but unimaginable. Over the past five seasons, you have twice claimed the Norris Trophy, for the league’s most outstanding defenseman, standing as a finalist in each of those years. You have captured a Stanley Cup, earning the Conn Smythe Trophy as the most outstanding performer in the postseason. You have set franchise records for goals and assists as a defenseman. And yet now, amid this record of achievement, a subtle dissonance emerges. Your most recent postseason performance fell short of expectations, and murmurs of doubt have begun to circulate even among your own supporters. The fake missing-person posters that circulated during the playoffs were amusing from an outside perspective, yet for a player who has invested everything in the organization, such public mockery could reasonably provoke irritation.
History underscores that even the most prodigious athletes are not impervious to the fluctuations of performance. Wayne Gretzky, widely celebrated as the preeminent postseason performer in NHL history, was no exception. Over the course of 20 playoff campaigns, he accumulated 382 points, averaging roughly nineteen points per postseason. Yet during the 1992 Stanley Cup Playoffs, he managed a mere seven points—a striking deviation from seasons in which he routinely tallied thirty or more. Admittedly, the Los Angeles Kings were eliminated early that year, but even by Gretzky’s exceptional standards, there was a bit of regression. Were social media to have existed in that era, the ensuing deluge of commentary and criticism would have been both instantaneous and inescapable. One can only conjecture how Gretzky might have navigated such relentless scrutiny.
For Makar, as for Gretzky, the challenge lies not in avoiding criticism—an impossible task—but in transforming it into motivation. The capacity to internalize disappointment, to channel external noise into renewed focus and performance, is a hallmark of enduring greatness. It is a reminder that even the most celebrated athletes are human, and that resilience in the face of scrutiny often defines the trajectory of a career more than any single performance.
The criticism aimed at Makar by a vocal minority of fans recalls the treatment once endured by former boxing world champion Sergio Martínez. A late bloomer who rose to prominence in his thirties, Martínez established himself as one of the finest fighters of his generation. Yet, as age and injury inevitably eroded his edge, the veneer of invincibility faded. His knockout defeat to Miguel Cotto served as the moment when reality—long deferred—finally arrived.
Martínez himself articulated the isolation that followed. After victories, he was accustomed to hundreds of congratulatory texts and calls, his phone buzzing with the affirmation of friends, admirers, and distant acquaintances alike. But in defeat, the silence was deafening. Only a handful reached out, a reminder of how quickly the crowd disperses when the glow of success dims.
“When I lost my last fight against Miguel Cotto I had four missed calls. One was from an unknown number and the other three were from my mother. That put everything in its place.”
It is this fickleness—of fandom, of reputation, of public sentiment—that Makar now confronts, although it’s nowhere close to the brutality that boxers particularly face. Unlike one bad game, one rough night in the ring could ruin the entire trajectory of your life. The parallel is instructive: greatness can command awe, but it also attracts scrutiny, and when the slightest falter appears, some reveal themselves less as supporters than opportunists.
That said, Makar remains, fundamentally, a human being. It is almost certain that he witnessed the jokes, the memes, and the subtle (or not-so-subtle) questioning of his abilities. History has shown that extraordinary athletes confront such noise in one of two ways: some succumb to it, while others harness it, rising above the scrutiny and silencing the skeptics. Makar does not necessarily need to produce a transcendent season to affirm his greatness—his spot in the Hockey Hall of Fame is already secured. But he’s far from done. If one thought last year’s performance was remarkable, the 2025–26 season promises to offer an entirely new demonstration of his extraordinary talent and resolve.