Alex Ovechkin turns 30: No rings, but practically everything else

Alex Ovechkin turns 30 years old today.

We imagine the celebration will be a low-key affair: Friends, family, some terrible Euro-techno music and a cake filled with his twin passions in life, vodka and models.

I kid, of course, because there’s nothing low-key about Alex. He was a rock star the moment he put on that god-awful swooping eagle Washington Capitals jersey, and the party hasn’t stopped: 475 goals in 760 games, along with 420 assists; five goal-scoring titles and one Art Ross Trophy; the Calder Trophy, in the year Sidney Crosby was supposed to waltz away with it; three Ted Lindsay Awards and three Hart Trophies.

(This is the part where you go “but he’s never won anything outside of a Southeast Division banner!” and I go “well, that’s more about the teams he’s played on than his performances” and then you make a snide remark about the captaincy and coach killing and defense and we just chase our tails like a dog trying to escape Sochi.)

Statistically, Ovechkin has few peers in what he was able to accomplish in his 20s. As J.P. from Japers’ Rink noted, the only two players that amassed more goals than Ovechkin were a couple of bums named Wayne Gretzky and Mike Bossy (although that goals-per-game average for Mario Lemieux and Brett Hull is rather robust):

Meanwhile, Muneeb Alam used Hockey Reference’s era-adjusted goals filter to further compare Ovechkin’s output and … well, in the words of the Capitals captain, it’s “sick unbelievable.”

These numbers are ridiculous. And yet how is Ovechkin discussed after a decade?

He's criticized for failing to lead his team to a championship.

That's what unfortunately defines him at this point in his career. The only way a player is truly and totally appreciated in his heyday is if he’s a champion. It's not fair, it ignores incredible accomplishment, but that's the way our fandom and media have decided to define excellence. Achievement in sports is no narrowly focused on counting the rings and names on the Cup, Ovechkin's historic accomplishments have this undercurrent of hollowness.

He's a kid playing Super Mario Bros. that manages to break every brick, collect every coin and kill every turtle, but never actually makes the leap onto the flag pole to advance.

But this framing of his legacy can continue past his playing days. He could be a top five goal scorer in the NHL, and end up the Dan Marino to someone else’s Joe Montana. He’ll have ungodly numbers, but the only one that gets the spotlight is the “zero” next to Stanley Cups and Olympic gold.

And that’s why I feel there’s been a sea change in how fans feel about Ovechkin and, in turn, the Capitals.

We’re tired of that argument. We want to be able to laud his career without a caveat, to be able to call him one of the greatest of all-time without that nagging feeling that he’s less Hull and Bossy and more the love child of Marcel Dionne and a freight train.

Because through his 20s, he is already one of the greatest of all-time. If he breaks off another 50 goal season, he moves ahead of Bryan Trottier into 33rd place on the NHL goal scoring list. From that point, there are only three retired players who aren’t in the Hall of Fame: Mark Recchi (soon), Dave Andreychuk (grrrrr…) and Teemu Selanne (slam dunk).

And after that, who knows? Could he hit 700 goals, becoming only the eighth man in NHL history to do so, and the only one besides Jagr to have to do in an era with competent goaltending and defensive systems?

The mind boggles.

But even then all they’ll say he “HE NEVER BACKCHECKED!!!1!!”

***

I remember when Verizon Center was a giant hole in the ground. I think there was a McDonald’s near it. I know Chinatown was next to it. I know I didn’t really want to be there at night.

I remember Capitals games on a Tuesday night against someone like Edmonton where there might have been 7,000 people in the place. I remember Ted Leonsis opening the press box to bloggers because the DC media didn't care to cover the team.

I remember the team practicing in a far-off place instead of a quick hop to Arlington. I remember you’d be thrilled to see somewhere wearing Caps gear around town, like spotting a near-extinct bird.

I remember the Capitals not mattering.

And then suddenly they mattered.

I can’t say this was all Ovechkin, this “Rock The Red” movement that somehow mobilized thousands of fans who otherwise hadn’t been following the team. But he was the torchbearer, and he lit the fuse. It was in being the Stones to Sid’s Beatles, and scoring The Phoenix Goal, and playing the game with a ferocity we hadn’t seen since vintage Jagr.

I’m sure there are other players that have had a transformative effect on a franchise or a city in the way Alex did with the Capitals. But man, this was something to behold: a rudderless franchise given direction, a vanilla team given a personality and, in a larger context, a League that was still shaking off the dust from a cancelled season getting a shot of adrenaline that even ESPN couldn’t ignore.

What's even more amazing about his 20s is that Ovechkin is still a Capital.

As I wrote on Deadspin when Ted Leonsis signed him to that "lifetime" contract (11 years, $124 million) contract in 2008, I bought the line that Ovechkin would eventually want out. Early in his career, as the Capitals bumbled, people were practically organizing rescue missions to get him on another, better team.

People forget what that contract meant for the Capitals: legitimacy. As I wrote at the time:

"Ovechkin's is the single most emphatic endorsement of the competency of management and the direction of a franchise by a professional athlete that I've ever witnessed. And considering how many fans around D.C. feel management is incompetent and the direction of the franchise is undefined at best, it's a hell of a trust fall on his part."

Ultimately, management hasn't held up its end of the deal. But looking at this year's roster, there's still a golden opportunity to rectify that.

***

Look, I know this reads like a valentine.

I’m not trying to Pollyanna the playoff disappointments, the Olympic disappointments, the captaincy without the leadership, the killing of coach Bruce Boudreau, the defensive lapses, the tone-deaf backing of Vladimir Putin and the rest of it. It’s not been a perfect decade. He lost his smile for a few seasons there, before recapturing the magic in 2012. And it is odd to see so many of his peers having played for at least a conference title while Ovechkin hasn't even finger-tipped that bar yet.

But allow me some wistful nostalgia: At 30 years old, I guess it’s the first time I sense that we have a finite amount of time to watch this guy at the peak of his powers.

And we might not ever see another one like him. (Due respect to Sidney Crosby, but Connor McDavid is already being touted as his replacement as God-Given Talented Canadian Wunderkind.)

So even if you loathe Alex Ovechkin; even if you think he’s overrated, over-covered and underwhelming; even if you can’t stand the celebrations, or the accolades without ultimate accomplishment; take a step back today and appreciate, for a moment, the player we’ve seen for the last decade and will continue to watch long after the candles on the Birthday No. 30 cake have stopped smoldering.