Gabe Landeskog’s calm dismissal of a major NHL honor took on new meaning weeks later, when a surprise reveal turned perspective into something unmistakably real.
Last month, Gabe Landeskog shrugged off his Bill Masterton Memorial Trophy nomination with the kind of perspective that instantly recalled an unlikely movie scene.
In the underrated 2000 holiday film The Family Man, Nicolas Cage’s Jack Campbell is asked by Don Cheadle’s Cash what he still needs in life. Campbell flashes a grin and answers, “I got everything I need.”
“The ultimate prize I’ve already won,” Landeskog said.
Of course, the Avalanche captain wasn’t channeling Campbell’s swagger. If anything, his response reflected the quiet confidence of someone who has already experienced the milestones most players spend a lifetime chasing. He won the Calder Memorial Trophy as the NHL’s top rookie in 2012, became an All-Star, captained Colorado to a Stanley Cup championship and, at 19 years and 286 days old, became the youngest captain in NHL history at the time.
An individual award is meaningful. But after everything Landeskog has accomplished—and everything he has endured simply to return to the ice—it was never going to define him.
“Obviously it’s humbling and it’s a great honor (to be nominated). There’s been amazing players with incredible stories and perseverance that have been nominated or (have) accepted that award. But I think for me and what I’ve gone through, it’s so far beyond what anybody else is going to be able to label, whether I win the Masterton or not, it doesn’t change anything for me.
“I’m humbled and honored by it, but I think for me, the ultimate prize I’ve already won and that’s to continue working and getting to play hockey. Got amazing kids and a wife at home and all those things.”
A month later, that perspective still held. The reaction, however, told a fuller story.
Landeskog believed he was sitting down for an interview about the Mark Messier NHL Leadership Award. Instead, he walked away with two honors, also being named the winner of the Bill Masterton Memorial Trophy.
The Messier Award recognizes leadership on and off the ice and contributions to the game in the community, with the winner selected by Mark Messier after input from around the league. The Masterton, voted on by the Professional Hockey Writers Association, is awarded to the player who best exemplifies perseverance, sportsmanship and dedication to hockey.
Inside his home, Landeskog was unknowingly being pulled into one of the NHL’s more carefully staged surprises of the offseason. His wife, Melissa, had been carrying the secret for weeks.
“I’ve been very sneaky,” Melissa said. “It’s been really hard to keep it from him because I’m obviously just so excited about it.”
The reveal came through an iPad presentation featuring messages from his surgeon, Dr. Matthew Jordan, teammates Nathan MacKinnon and Cale Makar, along with Melissa and his father, Tony.
MacKinnon, who has been Landeskog’s teammate since 2013 after being selected first overall, offered a brief but personal message:
“Just want to say how happy I am for you, man,” said MacKinnon. “Watching you grind for three years. I'm so honored to be your teammate.”
“It was very hard to see you at your lowest and I can’t even imagine how difficult it truly was for you and your family,” Makar said. “But somehow, you still managed to be a part of our team, be a leader and continue to show up every single day with a positive mindset and an even better attitude.”
Tony Landeskog echoed that sentiment.
“There were lots of people that (were) skeptical if you were ever going to come back to the game,” he said. “But you didn’t care about that. You just kept on working. People don’t understand how much effort you have put into it, and you are amazing. You’re such an inspiration for so many people—not only athletes, even other people. I just want to say I’m so proud. I love you.”
When the video ended, Landeskog was told to turn around.
Waiting behind him were Melissa, their three children, and a representative from the Hockey Hall of Fame holding the Masterton Trophy.
For a rare moment, the composure cracked. Landeskog broke into a wide smile as the room revealed what had been building behind the scenes.
“I was just oblivious to the fact of anything,” he said. “Everything I had heard about the Masterton was that it was going to be in a couple of weeks. And even when (the reporter) handed me the iPad and people were talking about resilience and my journey, it still didn’t really clue in.”
Looking back, his words from a month earlier weren’t contradiction—they were clarity.
“I’d be lying to you if I told you the Masterton hadn’t crossed my mind at some point. The amount of people that have helped me along the way, and especially my family—especially Melissa, Linnea, and Luke and Ella—there’s been lots of people that have helped me along the way.
“You get nowhere in this life by yourself, you truly don’t. Very appreciative, and this is to all of them as well.”
That, more than any trophy, was the point. The awards were the headline. The people were the story.
