A Rush to Perfection | FEATURE

For a brief window, only a handful of people knew Connor Hellebuyck was a Devil.

The Devils knew. The Jets knew. Hellebuyck knew.

And, likely, so did one other person outside those front offices: his mask artist, Steve Nash. 

Nash had to get to work.

Fast.

Nash has been painting Hellebuyck's masks since 2015, when the goaltender first broke into the NHL with the Winnipeg Jets. Over the years, they've developed a close friendship, with Nash painting dozens of masks for Hellebuyck.

Nash found out about the trade roughly two hours before the rest of the hockey world did, giving him a bit of a head start. He had a mask to create, and until that moment, he didn't even know what colors he'd be working with.

He too had just been sitting there, watching as Hellebuyck was seemingly linked to ever and all teams. 

“It seems like every team in the NHL had him coming to their hometown,” Nash laughs. “So I didn’t know which direction to go. Neither did he. It was, ‘Okay, I gotta get the Pantone colors for this team. All right, no, not that team. Now I gotta get the Pantone colors for this team.’”

All Nash could count on was Hellebuyck's design DNA: plenty of white, some team color, and fishing.

Bass, specifically.

“That's his passion, right?”

Those were the constants. Everything else depended on where Hellebuyck would end up.

So Nash waited.

Then, on October 23, Nash was let in on one of the hockey world's biggest secrets.

Hellebuyck was headed to New Jersey.

Time to get to work.

“Luckily, I already ... have three of his shells here, three of his masks,” Nash says. “So one of them I had already broken down and base coated in white.”

It was a small but significant advantage. One that, as it turned out, would help save precious time.

With the news still under wraps, Nash got his instructions.

“Keep it hush. Like, keep it quiet.”

That secrecy wouldn't last long.

Within a couple of hours, the trade was making its way across social media. The hockey world knew.

And Nash was already working.

The deadline? Hellebuyck's home debut against the Edmonton Oilers on Tuesday.

There was no time to waste.

But there was also no shortcut to getting it right. That wasn't an option. This had to be perfect for his client and friend. 

Unlike some of Nash's other clients, Hellebuyck likes to have a hand in the creative process. After more than a decade working together, Nash has a pretty good understanding of what the goaltender likes, but that doesn't mean Hellebuyck simply leaves him to it.

“He's very analytical, and he knows what he wants and where he wants the imagery,” Nash explains. “A lot of goalies will say, ‘Just do whatever,’ as long as it's in the theme, and they give you artistic freedom.”

Not Hellebuyck.

“He likes to get in there and adjust and tweak and get involved, which is more fun for me actually.”

And even under an exceptionally tight deadline, he knew that process wasn't going to change.

Nash put together an initial sketch, incorporating the familiar elements of Hellebuyck's previous masks, this time in Devils colors.

The feedback was relatively simple.

“He liked everything. He just said, ‘Take some more black out of it.’ He wanted ... he likes a lot of white in his helmet.”

Luckily for Nash, with Hellebuyck as a long-time client, he already had three shells of Hellebuyck's helmet in his studio. It was already broken down, the nuts and bolts unassembled, ready for paint. 

But it isn't quite as simple as drawing a design on a blank canvas. Nash has to account for the shape of the mask, the ventilation holes, and the cage, all while making sure the artwork translates properly from a flat sketch to a three-dimensional piece of equipment.

“The artwork's gotta work around all the vent holes, the cage,” Nash says. “I would love it if it was just, like, a nice big flat piece.”

A couple of revisions later between he and Hellebuyck, and the sketch got a green light.

And, in Nash's words, “boom, I went to work.”

What followed was a stretch of nearly nonstop work, with Nash putting in roughly 18 hours a day to get the mask ready.

For perspective, a typical mask takes him about two weeks to complete.

That's because his work involves automotive paint, something that requires patience, precision, and drying time between applications.

Not exactly ideal when you're racing against the clock.

“It's crazy, like, when you want to do something really good and you don't have enough time,” Nash says. “If you get a crunch time on something, then you start to make mistakes and stuff.”

Fortunately, this time, the process went about as smoothly as Nash could have hoped.

“Luckily, I didn't have too many issues or mistake problems. It just sort of flowed out really nice.”

And there was plenty of detail to get right.

Look closely at Hellebuyck's new Devils mask, and you'll find something that might not be immediately obvious.

Hidden within the black paint are small, ghosted silhouettes of fish.

“The only small Easter egg kind of things in there is he's got some ghosted fish within the black,” Nash explains. “If you look at the mask and turn it, it'll go from black, and then you'll see ghosted fish in there.”

The silhouettes appear and disappear depending on the angle.

It's also a reminder of something Nash believes makes goalie masks so special.

Unlike almost any other piece of equipment in professional sports, a goaltender's mask offers a unique opportunity for personal expression.

“I think it's the last freedom of expression that you can do in sports,” Nash says.

For Hellebuyck, that expression goes beyond the fish and the team colors. His backplate also includes personal touches referencing Michigan State and Odessa, places that have played important roles in his hockey journey.

And that is what makes the mask distinctly his, regardless of the uniform he's wearing.

Even when the design was set and Nash was happy with the final product, the work didn’t end when the artwork did. Four coats of clear paint went on to protect it, followed by more waiting. 

Here's the thing though, that was Sunday, leading into Monday, up in Ontario, Canada. 

The mask had to be in New Jersey, for Tuesday morning's 10:30 a.m. skate. 

“I’m looking at my clock, it’s drying, looking at my clock.” Then came assembly, and packaging sturdy enough “so you can kick the box around and nothing will happen to it.”

He made it to the FedEx depot around 7 p.m., an hour before it closed. “It was a rush, I can tell you that much.” Then came the relief, and the weight of what was riding on it. “I didn’t wanna let Bucky down, I didn’t wanna let the fans down.”

About that name: Hellebuyck has told us that only those in his true inner circle call him Bucky. That Nash slips into it so naturally says plenty about the trust between artist and goalie.

Nash finally made it to the FedEx depot around 7 p.m., just an hour before it closed.

“It was a rush, I can tell you that much.”

And with the mask finally on its way to New Jersey, Nash could, at last, exhale.

“I didn't wanna let Bucky down, I didn't wanna let the fans down.”

Bucky.

It's a nickname worth paying attention to.

Hellebuyck has shared that only those in his true inner circle call him Bucky. It's a name reserved for the people closest to him, those who know him beyond the goaltender the rest of the hockey world sees.

For Nash, it slips into conversation almost without a second thought, revealing just how close a relationship can get between an artist and a goalie. 

The pressure of getting it right wasn't just about producing something beautiful, or meeting a deadline. It was about delivering for someone he'd worked alongside for more than a decade.

And he did.

Hellebuyck's new mask arrived in time for his home debut against Edmonton, where it was greeted by an enthusiastic Devils fan base.

Nash, however, didn't actually get to see the debut live.

After days of working nearly around the clock, he'd finally gotten some much-needed sleep.

“I didn't even get to watch the game,” Nash laughs.

Instead, he caught up on the highlights afterward.

And, even from afar, he could tell what kind of reception Hellebuyck had received.

“You got some rowdy fans,” Nash says.

It was a moment he'd worked tirelessly to make possible, even if he had to experience it a little later than everyone else.

After the mask was shipped, Nash finally managed to sleep for 12 hours.

“I don't think I remember the last time I slept for 12 hours,” he laughs.

For a man who’d spent days racing the clock, 12 straight hours of sleep was well earned.

It won’t last.

Hellebuyck has told people he wants to get “a little bit more nuts” with it. Judging by Nash’s reaction, he may not have been let in on that yet.

Then, right before we hung up, I gave him some news of my own: the Hometown Remix jersey debuts in just over two weeks.

“I need luck,” Nash laughed.

He’s well rested, at least.

Because the clock is running again.