Curse of the Elite Athlete: Why the Oilers Wanted Babcock

There is something fascinating about the Edmonton Oilers hiring Mike Babcock that has little to do with systems, line combinations or even coaching style. It has to do with something that happens to elite athletes. People start telling them how good they are. Connor McDavid is the best player in the world. Leon Draisaitl is one of the best players in the world. Zach Hyman has become one of the NHL's most productive goal scorers.

At some point, though, hearing that you're great isn't necessarily motivating. In fact, it might become the opposite.

The Oilers hired Babcock because the Oilers team leadership wanted to be pushed.

The interesting thing about the Oilers' leadership is that McDavid, Draisaitl and Hyman have all talked about wanting to be pushed. They don't need somebody to tell them they're talented. They already know that. They want somebody to make them better.

That's a fascinating distinction. Criticism challenges an elite athlete. Reassurance can lower the bar.

For an ordinary player, being told, “You're having a good season,” might be exactly what he needs to hear. For an elite player, it might be less useful. An elite athlete already knows he can be good. The question is whether he can be better.

That's why Babcock becomes an interesting choice for a head coach.

The Oilers aren't bringing him to Edmonton because McDavid needs to be convinced he's a great player. He doesn't. They're bringing him into an environment where the best players on the team have essentially said they want more from themselves—and want somebody willing to demand it from them. That's not necessarily about yelling, demanding or being difficult. It's about standards.

An elite player can become surrounded by people who have a vested interest in keeping him happy. Coaches don't want to alienate their stars. Teammates don't want to challenge them unnecessarily. Management doesn't want to create friction with the franchise player.

Eventually, everyone can start telling the same player the same thing: You're doing great. But what if he's not satisfied?

What can make the Oilers a better team?

What if McDavid looks at his career and thinks there is still something missing? What if Draisaitl believes he can be better? What if Hyman wants another level? Then reassurance isn't what they need.

They need somebody willing to say: “You're good. Now let's see if you can be better.”

That's the curse of the elite athlete. The better you become, the fewer people there are willing to tell you that you can improve. The Oilers' leadership group seems to understand that. And perhaps that's the most intriguing part of the Babcock experiment.

The question the Oilers will try to answer this season.

The question isn't whether Edmonton has enough talent. It has plenty. The question is whether the organization can create an environment where its best players are continually challenged to reach a level they haven't reached before.

Maybe that's what McDavid, Draisaitl and Hyman were really asking for. Not someone to tell them they're great.

Someone willing to tell them: “You're not finished yet.”