Back in November, Jared Bednar already knew Martin Nečas wasn’t just a talented forward—he was a game-breaker in the making.

The only question was whether he would fully lean into it. Because in hockey, as in anything at the highest level, talent gets you noticed—but direction is what turns it into dominance.

It was late November when the Colorado Avalanche rolled past the Montreal Canadiens 7–2 at Ball Arena. Nečas finished with three assists, repeatedly choosing the pass over the shot as he helped set up Devon Toews and Brock Nelson, who both scored twice. Nathan MacKinnon, meanwhile, pushed through a nasty illness and still managed three points and five shots on goal—a reminder of the standard inside that room.

Nečas didn’t play poorly—not even close. It was a strong night by any measure. But for a coaching staff that includes assistant coach Dave Hakstol, the job isn’t just to validate production—it’s to refine it. And for Nečas, that meant two things: committing more consistently on the defensive side, and more importantly, trusting the shot that had always been there.

“He had moments in yesterday’s game (against the Minnesota Wild) when he was really good as well, not as dangerous as what I would have liked him to be because he didn’t want to shoot the puck last night," Bednar said of Nečas nearly five months ago. "I saw flashes of that today, what he did do is he went to the interior of the ice and gets rewarded by stopping at the net on that play by (Devon Toews).

“But he was impactful tonight. And if I looked at his game as a whole last night, he was committed on the defensive side and he played hard for us yesterday, too.”

Throughout the season, Bednar has consistently hinted at the same underlying belief: the closer you look at Nečas, the more obvious it becomes that there’s another level waiting to be unlocked—not just as a distributor, but as a legitimate finishing threat. The challenge was never skill. It was instinct.

That adjustment isn’t simple. At the NHL level, habits are ingrained. Players don’t just “start shooting more” because someone suggests it. They have to override years of decision-making in real time, under pressure, against the best players in the world.

When asked by The Hockey News on December 1 about his coach’s message, Nečas was refreshingly direct about it.

"If I see a guy open, I'll pass it to him," Nečas said. "Obviously I want to shoot the puck more. The more you shoot, the more chances you create."

Since the Olympic break, that intention has turned into production. Nečas hasn’t just taken a step forward—he’s surged. Since February 25, he’s been tied for third in the league with 16 goals, trailing only Macklin Celebrini (17) and Cole Caufield (19) over that span. In the process, he’s even outpaced MacKinnon down the stretch of the season.

That’s not to suggest MacKinnon has slipped. He hasn’t. But Nečas has entered a different tier entirely—playing with a conviction and assertiveness that once looked like a potential trait, not a defining one.

The evolution is striking, and in a strange way, it echoes transformations seen in other sports. Think of Oscar De La Hoya early in his career—skilled, precise, but still learning how to fully impose himself.

Most young fighters don’t step into the ring trying to hurt someone. In fact, many struggle with the idea of it. Sports psychologists have long noted that young athletes often carry a quiet hesitation—torn between control and aggression, between skill and instinct.

De La Hoya was no different. Early on, he had to learn how to turn something on inside himself when it mattered—how to shift from composed technician to decisive finisher. Not a personality change, but a competitive one. A switch.

Nečas has undergone a similar transformation, just without the ropes, gloves, or flashing lights. His tools are different—his power delivered through the precise engineering of a Bauer Vapor FLYLITE stick—but the principle is the same. At some point, hesitation gives way to intent.

And since Bednar’s message landed, that intent has shown up in his game with unmistakable force.

If Nečas can carry this version of himself through the Stanley Cup Playoffs, the conversation shifts entirely. Suddenly you’re not just talking about production—you’re talking about legacy. A Conn Smythe run doesn’t feel far-fetched. And if the Avalanche go all the way, Jared Bednar’s fingerprints on this evolution may end up being just as significant—perhaps even Jack Adams-worthy.

Because sometimes, the biggest leap a star takes isn’t about skill at all. It’s about permission—to trust it.

Nečas is just entering his prime, and if the last few months are any indication, the Marty Party is going to be something worth watching in awe for years to come.