Alexander the Great?

"I want to enjoy," he added, "to enjoy this time, enjoy the team, enjoy the NHL."

He had to admit, though, he was nervous making his first appearance for the Capitals. On Sept. 21, he took the ice at MCI Center for an exhibition game against Buffalo. Only a few thousand people were in the seats to see the team's new No. 8. That was his mother's number, too, when she played basketball. He wears a gold chain with two gold pendants, a crucifix and a No. 8.

"When I play the first period," he said, "I cannot believe I play in the NHL. I take the puck and my hands are, like, I can't do this. Second period, I feel good."

He proved he could be physical, knocking one of the Sabres into the boards and taking control of the puck.

But the way defenders double-teamed him, making things as difficult for him as they could, suggested this was how it would be throughout the regular season. He did well, anyway, and last Friday at MCI Center, he did even better.

Late that afternoon, he drove through the city in his sport-utility vehicle, Russian techno music blaring, no one recognizing him except for a recent acquaintance who pulled up alongside and waved. Ovechkin waved back. He kept time to the sounds, clearing his mind to play.

And play he did -- although it was against a makeshift Penguins team resting its best players. He found the back of the net on two rebounds and a turnover -- his shots were hard and precise. Although he prefers to crash the net, he uncorked a slap shot from the point that might have been a fourth goal, but he happily settled for the assist when it deflected off Halpern's stick.

Reporters surrounded him afterward, one asking if four points made this a time to celebrate.

He looked puzzled.

"We have next game tomorrow," he said.

He amiably answered more questions, except for one he didn't understand, then headed for the showers, looking very much at home. He's been getting more and more comfortable.

One day recently, he was relaxed and talking with a reporter in a room at Piney Orchard. Suddenly, there was a pounding at the door and a voice on the other side: "Let me in. Let me in."

It was Zubrus.

"He is my ride," Zubrus said, bursting in. "I am late already. I must catch a train."

A train? It sounded dubious, but, indeed, Zubrus had to make a quick trip to Philadelphia and wanted Ovechkin to drop him at the BWI rail station.

Zubrus got behind the wheel of Ovechkin's SUV.

"He doesn't know the way," Zubrus said.

But how would Ovechkin find his way back from BWI?

Zubrus explained.

When he got his SUV, Ovechkin programmed three pertinent destinations into its navigation system: his parents' apartment, Piney Orchard and MCI Center.

The rookie from afar was not about to lose his way.