
For most of the last two decades, Mike Babcock's résumé has spoken louder than almost anyone else's.
More than 700 wins.
A Stanley Cup.
Two Olympic gold medals.
A World Championship.
A World Junior title.
For years, there wasn't much debate. Babcock was viewed as the gold standard behind the bench, a demanding coach capable of squeezing every ounce out of talented teams and star players, and one whose preparation and attention to detail helped him earn the trust of some of the greatest teams and players the sport has seen.
And, to be fair, the results backed up the reputation.
He took the Ducks to the Stanley Cup Final. He won it all with Detroit in 2008. Team Canada trusted him with Sidney Crosby and Jonathan Toews. Brendan Shanahan handed him an eight-year contract and the keys to the Maple Leafs' rebuild.
Few coaches in league history have accomplished more.
Which is what makes the other half of the story so fascinating.
Because for almost as long as Babcock has been winning hockey games, there have been stories.
Johan Franzén described him as the worst person he had ever met. Chris Chelios accused him of embarrassing and belittling players. Mike Modano was famously left sitting on 1,499 career games because Babcock wanted to reward younger players, a decision that Modano himself admitted still bothered him years later. Following his dismissal in Toronto, Mitch Marner revealed that as a rookie he had been asked to rank teammates by work ethic, only to have those rankings shared with the group, creating tension before Marner had even established himself in the league.
One incident can be explained away.
A pattern becomes much harder to dismiss.
And that pattern followed him to Columbus.
When Babcock was hired by the Blue Jackets in 2023, he spoke openly about reflection and growth, saying that time away from the game had given him a new perspective and helped him appreciate that today's players require a different approach than the one that worked twenty years ago. Days before training camp, however, allegations surfaced that Babcock had been asking players to show him photographs on their phones as part of a get-to-know-you exercise. Veterans Boone Jenner and Johnny Gaudreau publicly defended those interactions and insisted they had never felt uncomfortable, but concerns raised by younger players led the NHLPA to launch a review. Before Babcock coached a single game, he resigned.
Now, with reports linking him to the Edmonton Oilers' vacancy, the NHLPA has reportedly requested that the league conduct a formal investigation before Edmonton proceeds with a hire, which is a remarkable development considering Babcock hasn't coached an NHL game since 2019 and resigned from Columbus before his tenure even began.
That should give everyone pause.
Not because Babcock suddenly forgot how to coach.
Nobody questions his hockey knowledge. Nobody questions his preparation. Nobody questions his ability to organize a team and hold players accountable.
The question is whether Mike Babcock can stop creating problems that don't need to exist.
Because Connor McDavid and Leon Draisaitl aren't young stars trying to establish themselves anymore. They are veterans carrying enormous expectations after a shocking first-round exit to Anaheim, and the last thing Edmonton needs is another storyline competing with the pressure that already exists around the organization.
But perhaps the bigger concern isn't Connor McDavid or Leon Draisaitl.
Those two have seen everything. They have security. They have stature. If they dislike something, they have voices powerful enough to make themselves heard.
Matt Savoie and Isaac Howard don't.
Neither does Beau Akey. Neither do the next wave of prospects trying to establish themselves in the NHL.
That's what made the Columbus episode so alarming in the eyes of the NHLPA. The issue was never whether Boone Jenner or Johnny Gaudreau felt comfortable sharing photographs from their phones. Veterans with established careers can navigate those situations differently.
It's the young player sitting in his first training camp, eager to make a good impression and uncertain about where the line exists between a request and an expectation, who occupies the minds of NHLPA officials.
Hockey has changed. The relationship between players and coaches has changed. And while Babcock's résumé remains one of the strongest of his generation, the modern NHL is asking a different question than it did fifteen years ago.
Winning games still matters, but how you treat people matters, too.
Maybe time away from the game has changed Mike Babcock.
People evolve. Coaches evolve. Plenty of successful leaders have learned from mistakes.
But if the Oilers are going to entrust some of the most important years of Connor McDavid's career—and the first years of Matt Savoie and Isaac Howard's careers—to a man whose downfall has repeatedly come not from a lack of hockey knowledge, but from his own inability to recognize where the line is, they need to be absolutely certain that the lessons of Toronto and Columbus have finally sunk in.
Because throughout a coaching career that includes a Stanley Cup, Olympic gold and more than 700 wins, Mike Babcock's toughest opponent has rarely been the team on the other bench.
More often than not, it's been Mike Babcock himself.
Bookmark The Hockey News Edmonton Oilers team site to never miss the latest news, game-day coverage, and more. Add us to your Google News favourites, and never miss a story.










