Mike Babcock doesn't arrive in Edmonton carrying the benefit of the doubt.
That much is obvious.
Between the stories that emerged from Detroit and Toronto, the controversy that ended his brief stint in Columbus before it even really began and the uncomfortable headlines that accompanied his hiring process this summer, there are plenty of reasons why Oilers fans, players and even people around the league would approach this whole thing with skepticism.
Nobody is asking anyone to forget what happened.
And nobody should.
But at some point, everybody involved has to allow for the possibility that this can work.
If players show up to training camp already convinced they're going to hate the experience, chances are they will.
A coach who raises his voice becomes a tyrant. A difficult practice becomes punishment. Accountability becomes personal. Every disagreement becomes evidence that the fears were justified from the beginning.
That's not an environment where anybody thrives.
Not the coach, not the players, and not the team.
And certainly not Connor McDavid, who has spent enough years dealing with drama and disappointment without adding another distraction to the pile.
The truth is, plenty of successful coaches are demanding.
The good news is, the players are asking for this. At least, the top line is.
John Tortorella has made a career out of uncomfortable conversations. Rod Brind'Amour pushes his players hard. Bruce Cassidy isn't famous for handing out compliments. Even Craig Berube, whose straightforward approach helped Toronto rediscover some of its identity, has never been mistaken for a players' coach in the traditional sense.
Nobody enjoys being challenged, but everybody enjoys winning.
It's still not an excuse for poor behaviour, but the Oilers are looking for somebody who can help them win, not a friend behind the bench.
Mike Babcock's résumé was never the problem. The Stanley Cup. Olympic gold medals. More than 700 wins. Nobody questions whether he understands the game.
The questions have always involved the person.
People can change.
They don't always change.
But they can.
Coaches evolve. Players evolve. The league itself has changed dramatically over the last fifteen years, and anybody who hopes to survive in today's NHL has no choice but to adapt along with it.
Babcock himself has talked openly about that, but proving it requires something from both sides.
Players have responsibilities too.
Showing up expecting the worst helps nobody. Walking into every meeting with suspicion and treating every hard conversation as an attack creates a miserable environment before the season even begins. Eventually, self-fulfilling prophecies become reality.
Nobody wants that.
Not Leon Draisaitl. Not Matt Savoie. Not Isaac Howard. Not the veterans trying to squeeze one more run out of this group.
And certainly not a fan base that has already watched a coaching search turn into something far messier than anyone anticipated.
The Oilers need stability and focus. They need everybody pulling in the same direction.
That doesn't mean players should accept things they aren't comfortable with. Boundaries, respect, and communication matter.
Those things have become part of modern hockey, and rightly so.
But assuming failure before the first puck is dropped seems like an awfully strange way to begin one of the most important seasons in franchise history.
Maybe Mike Babcock has learned from the mistakes that followed him out of Toronto and Columbus. Maybe he hasn't. Nobody truly knows.
What everyone does know is that this team isn't talented enough to waste energy fighting itself.
That's why McDavid, Draisaitl, and Zach Hyman grilled Babcock—time is of the essence to get things right. But everybody has to get on board.
Walking into camp expecting misery feels like a pretty effective way to guarantee it.
Hope, after all, works both ways.
And if the Oilers are going to get where they want to go, they would be wise to start there.
