Little brothers often have to play dirty to win. It’s their natural instinct. Such was the case in the Makar front yard, where younger Taylor matched up with older Cale in after-school games of one-on-one football.
The rules were simple: One brother punted the ball to the other or sometimes threw it pop-up style. The receiving Makar’s mission was to cross the yard “without getting just clobbered,” as Taylor put it.
Cale had a marginal size advantage at the time, so Taylor needed to even the playing field. He would trip Cale or use other feisty, irritating tactics to bring him down. “Usually ended up in a huge fight,” Taylor recalls.
But Cale adapted. He was shiftier and more elusive in his kick returns — emblematic of the direction his hockey career was taking. “I’d probably say Cale got past me more,” Taylor said. “I don’t want to admit that, but he had some good jukes.”
Cale Makar has been modifying his approach to meet new athletic challenges his entire life. It’s how he solidified himself as a more complete prospect seven years ago. And it’s how the Avalanche defenseman became an NHL All-Star this season for the second time: not by scoring at the prodigious rate of a season ago but by learning how to handle the strain and responsibility of league-leading ice time at age 24.
Yes, it’s fair to fret about long-term ramifications as the defending Norris winner arrives in south Florida averaging 27:08 per game (next closest is 57 seconds behind him), but it’s also worth admiring what Makar has accomplished. He has adapted his game to pace himself. He leads the Avalanche (27-18-3) in 5-on-5 expected goals rate (56.1%), scoring chance rate (57.8%) and high-danger scoring chance rate (54.2%), all while leading the top power-play unit and logging penalty kill minutes.
In other words, he’s a different kind of All-Star this time.
Makar has adjusted to increased physical tolls before. In fact, he has proven to be exceptional at it. In this case, it’s the persistence of injuries that’s caused Colorado to rely on him like never before.
His obstacle when he was a newcomer to the Alberta Junior Hockey League was equally daunting, but in a different way. In that case, it was the imposing size of his opponents.
“It’s not that long ago, but there was still a time especially at our level when lots of coaches wanted the old-school, typical, rough-and-tough defensemen,” said Scott Cunningham, an assistant coach for the Brooks Bandits when Makar arrived as an affiliate player in 2015.
But Makar? “He was tiny,” Cunningham said.
At only a fraction of his current 5-foot-11, 187-pound stature, Makar was the Bandits’ youngest player at 16. It was a big leap in caliber of play, and the Calgary teenager was thrown into playoff action, where stakes are higher and games rougher. Older teammate Nick Prkusic remembers that Makar stuck out, but not so much for being undersized; it was “because then you see what he does with the puck.”
But he struggled with confidence on defense, Cunningham said. Staring up at bulkier 20-year-old opponents, it was natural to wonder about being flattened. This wasn’t pesky Taylor charging him.
“All he had was his skating ability,” Prkusic said. “But he could always out-skate his problems.”
Makar just needed to realize that himself. As he managed seven points in 20 playoff games, his talent became clear. He wasn’t expected to be an NHL prodigy at that point. But his slippery nature added to the target on his back as he returned to the Bandits the next season.
“The coaches really impressed upon him that you’re going to get rocked every once in a while,” teammate Charlie Marchand said. “As a better player, some guys want to grab your visor in the scrum and try to get under your skin.”
Marchand and Makar lived together with a billet family when Makar first got to Brooks, a two-hour drive from Calgary. His off-ice personality matched the initial timidness that confronted him against big forecheckers. Players found he had a joyful disposition and was pleasant to be around, but he didn’t mind keeping to himself. Marchand and Makar played video games, watched late-night Will Ferrell movies and learned to play poker. That was the team’s coming-of-age activity.
“I don’t think either of us necessarily had an aptitude for it,” Marchand said, laughing. “But at that age, you do anything you can to be around the older guys. … For us, it was maybe losing five bucks playing a hand of poker.”
Everyone was awed by Makar’s skating. During weekly situational skills sessions, Marchand always studied his friend’s tricks. Makar would try a different maneuver from everyone else and “do it with his eyes closed.”
But Cunningham noticed the lack of confidence still affected Makar’s defending. They often focused on gap control when examining video together throughout the 2015-16 season. At the time, Makar seemed reluctant to tighten his gaps and minimize the space between himself and bigger opponents barreling into the offensive zone.
Other than that, he and the Bandits were excellent — enough to win the league championship both full years Makar was in Brooks. As time passed and the team won, Makar grew. And as he grew, so did his confidence.
“We’d go 7-0 in a game, and the other team was starting to head-hunt,” Marchand remembers. “At the time, it’s not like anyone was too good to be on the ice during those stretches, right? So (Makar) had to learn fast: When you’re going back on a puck and you know an opponent has one goal in mind — to take your head off — how can you absorb contact?
“I think that’s where Cale’s hockey IQ really came into play. It’s not like all of a sudden he was the guy laying bodies. But he always found a way to absorb contact or to use his foot-speed.”
Offense was natural. Defense came with the self-confidence acquired by repetition. Makar adapted to the surroundings and got better every year. He finished 2015-16 with 55 points (10 goals). The next season, 75 points (24 goals).
It was gradual. There wasn’t a singular moment when it all clicked. But there was a singular moment when Prkusic realized how far Makar had come.
Along with skating out of trouble, Makar had developed an impressive reverse hit. Prkusic was a captain during the 2016-17 season. Makar was 18 and looked a bit less out of place. They were on opposing 3-on-3 teams one day at practice. Prkusic was buzzing toward Makar to land a light check. Instead of eluding, “he reverse hits me,” Prkusic said. “Just blows me up.” Prkusic couldn’t believe it, especially considering the practice setting: “I’ll never forget it.”
Maybe there was something from Makar’s past to pull from in that moment. After all, football wasn’t the only game he played with his brother in elementary school. They also frequented a family friend’s backyard rink for one-on-one hockey. “It would be extremely rough. I would start the hitting,” Taylor said. Cale was always good at countering Taylor’s aggression. The boards were only half their height, “so if there was a puck battle along the boards, one of us was definitely going over.”
If a malleable Makar could handle flipping over the boards, why waste time worrying about getting checked?
