The Blueprint of Greatness: Why Talent is Only the Starting Line Bedard tears up the NHL in his 2nd year, the gap between "could have been" and "currently is" has never been clearer.

The inbox is full again. It’s the same old song, just a different chorus. "My son isn't getting the ice time he deserves." "The coach doesn't understand his style." "If only we had played in that other league, things would be different."

In the world of junior hockey, the phrase "he could've been" is the ghost that haunts the hallways of every arena. It is the soothing balm applied to the ego when reality doesn't match ambition. But here is the hard truth that nobody wants to pay for: Players eventually find their level. Like water seeking its own depth, talent, combined with an ungodly amount of work, will always find its place.

If you need proof that the "circumstances" argument is often a crutch, look no further than the No. 98 sweater currently setting the National Hockey League on fire.

Connor Bedard, now into his second NHL season with the Chicago Blackhawks, is no longer a prospect. He is a predator. Bedard has racked up 37 points in just the first 25 games of the year. Read that again. In the best league in the world, against the tightest checking lines and the most sophisticated defensive systems, a 20-year-old is scoring at a pace that would make veterans blush.

But to focus solely on the 37 points is to miss the point entirely.

Let's rewind. We all know the story of the 14-year-old Bedard putting up 84 points for West Vancouver Academy Prep’s U18 team. We know about the 271 points in 134 games with the Regina Pats. When he was that young, the whispers were already starting. "He's too small." "He's playing in a league that protects him." "Wait until he hits the pros."

Bedard didn't listen to the noise. More importantly, he didn't listen to the excuses available to him. When the world shut down, he was shooting pucks in his backyard until his hands bled. When he was granted exceptional status, he didn't coast on the label; he worked harder to justify it.

The transition to the NHL is where the "could've beens" usually falter. They get drafted, they get paid, and they get comfortable. Or, they hit the rookie wall, the physical grind wears them down, and they start looking for reasons why it’s not working. The coach won't play me on the power play. My linemates can't finish.

Bedard’s sophomore surge, on pace for a 120-point season, is evidence of a different mindset. It is the result of a player who treats his development not as a destination, but as a perpetual climb. He didn't come into this season satisfied with a Calder Trophy campaign. He came in stronger, faster, and with a hockey IQ that seems to be processing the game two seconds ahead of everyone else.

This is the lesson for every hockey parent and aspiring junior player currently drafting an email about unfair treatment. Bedard’s success isn't magic. It is the compounding interest of a thousand "boring" choices made over a decade.

We had a young client, highly skilled, incredible hands, skated like the wind. But last year, he made a series of immature off-ice decisions. He prioritized the lifestyle of a hockey player over the life of a hockey player. Consequently, the phone stopped ringing. We scrambled to find him a roster spot that matches his skill set, but his reputation has beaten him to the punch. He is in danger of becoming a "could've been."

Contrast that with Bedard. He made a choice long ago to be the absolute best player he could be. That decision required sacrifice. It meant saying no to the late nights, the distractions, and the easy routes. It meant that when things got tough, he didn't look for a different coach; he looked in the mirror.

The 37 points in 25 games is just the stat line. The real story is the discipline required to maintain that consistency. It is about showing up to the rink in November with the same fire you had in October. It is about understanding that your development is your responsibility, not the responsibility of your association, your advisor, or your parents.

The developmental path is not linear. There will be bad coaches. There will be losing teams. There will be injuries and bad calls and bad puck luck. But if you are truly good enough, and if you work hard enough, those things become footnotes, not chapters.

So, before you send that email or demand a trade, ask yourself the uncomfortable question. Are you really being held back, or are you just not pushing hard enough?

It is not too late to transition from a "could've been" into a "going to be." The door is open for anyone willing to put in the work. But you have to want it. You have to want it more than you want the excuses.

Connor Bedard wanted it. And now, the entire hockey world is watching him take it.

How bad do you want it?