The first time I saw Mitch Marner play live was May of 2014, right after his 17th birthday. It was a playoff game between the Knights and my hometown Guelph Storm, and although the knights lost that series, 93 on London played a smart, creative, care-free brand of hockey couldn’t take my eyes off of.
The next year, I followed his progression closely, and watched him put up 2 points per game in the OHL - when the Leafs started tanking, I had my eyes all over him as an incredible consolation prize, if we couldn’t land McDavid
When we drafted him, I was ecstatic - I saw an unbelievably skilled player, and a hometown kid, who I knew the city would fall in love with the same way I had throughout his junior career. And boy, for those first three seasons, it was a sight to behold. Not only did he quickly become one of the best young superstars in the league, he showed a passion and a big-game prowess (especially vs Boston in 2018) that endeared himself to the fan base the way we haven’t seen in a long time. A local kid, repping his hometown team, showing up on the biggest stage.
I won’t get into the contract, or the negotiation, but it can’t be understated how big of an inflection point that was. It fundamentally changed him as a player. Early in his pro career (as well as in junior), I was convinced his combination of determination, competitiveness, and poise suggested he would thrive in big games. As his perception shifted in the city, you could just see how it wore on him. On and off the ice, the once care-free approach that embraced the spotlight transformed into a guy who got more frustrated, more helpless, more afraid, the bigger the stage. It felt like the swagger I saw from that 17 year old kid in London just evaporated before my eyes - and every spring since, it’s been the same story.
Until last night, there was always a possibility that things would change, that one big game or one big moment could rewrite the script altogether. After yet another Game 7 loss, and Marner almost certainly signing elsewhere, that possibility has gone up in smoke.
I have no interest in eviscerating him right now, or laying all the blame for yet another playoff exit at his feet. But I do want to acknowledge just how devastating it is that this chapter played out the way it did. All the pieces were in place for this guy to be a timeless legend in the city, that we would tell our grandparents about someday. Instead, he’ll be remembered as the guy who demanded every penny from a cap-strapped team, and proceeded to disappear in big moments. I couldn’t have possibly imagined things going like this on draft day in 2015. And I doubt he could either.
At the end of the day, he’s a new father, seems like a genuinely good person, and I’m sure he’ll have a ton of success elsewhere. But what a shame that things worked out like this. Mitch, I loved you dude. Maybe there’s an alternate reality where you led this team to a cup. But damn, I’m just so sad that this is where we ended up. What could have been…
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