In a career with a trajectory that could only be mimicked by a rocket developed by whatever they call the NASA of Canada [Ed.: the Canadian Space Agency, or the Agence Spatiale Canadienne in French], last season, Connor McDavid finally experienced a failure to launch. It wasn’t totally the 21 year old’s fault—he led the league in scoring for the second year in a row. But his team, the Edmonton Oilers, the storied franchise that Gretzky made famous, sucked. Before last season, McDavid’s career was arcing upward as if a group of rocket scientists had meticulously engineered each stage: on skates since the age of four, coached by his dad to four straight junior league trophies, only the third kid ever to be granted “Exceptional Player” status by Hockey Canada, drafted first overall by the Oilers in 2015, named the NHL’s MVP in 2017 upon leading the Oilers back to the playoffs after an 11-year absence, signed a $100 million contract before he was old enough to drink. And then last year, with the Oilers finishing sixth in the Pacific division, completely out of the playoffs, that rocket, for the first time, slowed down a little.

So what’s McDavid going to do now? Did his boss Wayne Gretzky send him deep into the Canadian wilderness this off-season, demanding that he completely retool his game from the bottom up? Uh, no. The Oilers are counting on McDavid, the fastest hockey player in the league, with a mutant pass-first vision not seen since The Great One, to simply be a slightly better version of last year’s Connor McDavid. It's a very Canadian plan.

Suit, by Dolce & Gabbana / Shirt, by Paul Smith at Saks / Boots, by Common Projects / Watch, his own

You started playing up when you were five years old, going up against nine year olds. Did you perceive yourself as an underdog back then?

I was five, playing against those nine year olds, the last year of house league before you get into rep [Canadian term for traveling youth hockey league]. After that I always played up, always one year behind. And I definitely took a lot of pride in being the youngest in the league, so much so that I decided to wear 97, and that’s stuck with me.

What does the 97 number mean?

It’s the year I was born.

Amazing. So were you a cocky five year old?

[Laughs.] No! I was definitely not the cocky kid. I was probably on the other end of the spectrum—I was quiet. I remember a time when there was a skills competition, and I think I was five, and I was so nervous to even compete that I chose not to do the skating part.