The room was electric, thick with anticipation and the quiet tension that defines careers before they even begin. Names were about to be called—names that would shape franchises, define legacies, and alter the trajectory of young lives forever.
Matthew Tkachuk was certain he knew where his story would start.
“They wanted me badly,” he would later recall, a knowing smile creeping into his voice. “Like… really badly.”
In June 2016, inside the packed arena hosting the NHL Draft, Tkachuk sat with his family, dressed sharply, trying to mask the storm inside him. The hours leading up to the draft had been filled with signals—subtle conversations, lingering eye contact, and what he interpreted as unmistakable intent from the Edmonton Oilers.
They had the fourth overall pick.
And in Tkachuk’s mind, that’s where he was going.
“They made it clear,” said a source close to Tkachuk’s camp. “Everything pointed to Edmonton. It wasn’t official—but in draft language, it basically was.”
The Oilers were coming off a difficult stretch, but hope was building. Connor McDavid had arrived the year before. The franchise needed grit, scoring depth, and an edge—qualities Tkachuk embodied with relentless intensity.
He wasn’t just skilled. He was disruptive. The kind of player opponents hated and teammates rallied around.
From all indications, he was their guy.
Then everything changed.
With the third overall pick, the Columbus Blue Jackets stepped up. The expectation around the league was that Jesse Puljujärvi would be taken—a highly touted Finnish winger many believed was the best player available after Auston Matthews and Patrik Laine.
But Columbus shocked the room.
“From the Quebec Major Junior Hockey League… Pierre-Luc Dubois.”
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
“It flipped the entire draft,” one scout later said. “Nobody saw that coming.”
In that instant, the carefully constructed expectations collapsed.
Puljujärvi—suddenly available—became the new prize. And Edmonton, sitting at No. 4, had a decision to make.
According to Tkachuk, it wasn’t much of a decision at all.
“They pivoted immediately,” he said. “Like… instantly.”
Backstage, behind the polished smiles and flashing cameras, something unusual reportedly happened. Staff who had prepared for one outcome scrambled to adjust. A jersey—already fitted, already waiting—had to be changed.
“The nameplate switch,” an insider recalled. “It happened fast. Under the table, basically. No one wanted it to be obvious.”
Moments later, the Oilers approached the podium.
“With the fourth overall pick… the Edmonton Oilers select Jesse Puljujärvi.”
Just like that, Tkachuk’s path vanished.
For a brief second, the cameras caught his reaction—a flicker of surprise, quickly replaced by composure. He nodded slightly, as if recalibrating in real time.
Inside, it was different.
“You prepare yourself for one thing,” a former teammate said. “And then it’s gone. Just like that.”
The next few picks passed in a blur. Vancouver selected Olli Juolevi at No. 5—another unexpected choice that opened the door even wider.
And then, at sixth overall, the Calgary Flames stepped in.
“Matthew Tkachuk.”
The moment should have been triumphant. And in many ways, it was. A top-10 selection. A new beginning. A chance to prove himself.
But the story didn’t end there.
“It sticks with you,” Tkachuk admitted years later. “Not in a bad way—but you remember.”
What followed would only deepen the narrative.
Tkachuk quickly became a cornerstone player in Calgary. His combination of skill, physicality, and emotional edge made him one of the league’s most impactful forwards. He produced. He agitated. He led.
And he did it all while facing Edmonton—again and again.
“There’s always something extra in those games,” said one former Flames coach. “You could feel it.”
Meanwhile, Puljujärvi’s path in Edmonton proved far more complicated. Expectations were high, but consistency was elusive. Development stalled. Confidence wavered. The fit never fully materialized the way the Oilers had hoped.
Draft decisions are rarely judged in the moment. It’s the years that follow that reveal their true weight.
And in this case, the contrast became impossible to ignore.
“Tkachuk turned into exactly what Edmonton needed,” said a veteran analyst. “That’s what makes it sting.”
For Oilers fans, the story has taken on a near-mythical quality—a “what if” scenario replayed in conversations, debates, and late-night reflections.
What if Columbus had taken Puljujärvi?
What if Edmonton had stayed the course?
What if that jersey nameplate had never been switched?
Tkachuk, for his part, doesn’t dwell on regret.
But he doesn’t forget, either.
“It worked out the way it was supposed to,” he said. Then, after a pause, a grin forming: “But yeah… they wanted me.”
That quiet confidence—half reflection, half challenge—captures the essence of the moment.
Because sometimes, the most defining turns in a career happen not when your name is called—
But when it isn’t.
And for Edmonton, that one decision—made in seconds, under pressure, in the chaos of a shifting draft—still echoes years later.
A reminder that in hockey, as in life, the smallest pivots can change everything.
And sometimes, the player you thought you’d have… becomes the one you have to play against.
