SAN JOSE — The game film that makes Will Smith’s case is not from the power play. It is from a seven-minute stretch in the second period against Dallas in February, when the Sharks were down two goals and Smith did four things in sequence that none of the top twenty forwards in this draft class could replicate: he won the puck in the corner on strength, turned the defender at the top of the zone, found Macklin Celebrini for the trailer goal, and then, without pausing to celebrate with the bench, repositioned immediately for the next draw.
That sequence is what Mike Grier has been paying for in this negotiation. Smith’s representative walked into September asking $10.5 million annually. Grier’s offer has held at $9.1 million. The gap is $1.4 million, and it has not moved in any meaningful direction since July.
What has moved is the calendar. After tonight, the maximum term the CBA permits for a same-team extension drops from eight years to seven. That means the math Grier and Smith’s camp are fighting over does not only affect the next contract. It affects every contract after it.
A seven-year deal at $9.1 million versus an eight-year deal at $10.5 million is not just a difference in term or annual value. It is a statement about how long both sides believe Smith’s current production level holds, and at what salary level San Jose can build the rest of a team around him.
That second question is what makes the Sharks’ position genuinely constrained rather than tactically stubborn.

Smith’s representative has made the same argument every team that drafts a third-overall talent eventually hears: you built the rebuild around him. The cost of the rebuild’s centerpiece is not a variable you underpay to preserve optionality. It is the number you commit to because every other decision in the building flows from it.
Matvei Michkov and the Flyers are working through an identical calculation in Philadelphia tonight, a $1.3 million gap and the same cap-versus-term arithmetic pulling in opposite directions. The difference is that Michkov’s situation involves a team whose defensive structure is already a ceiling on his production. Smith’s situation comes with Celebrini already at his side and a window Grier believes opens in 2027, if the structure holds.
That window framing is what has made Smith’s camp resistant to the lower number. $9.1 million on an eight-year deal is not an insult. It is what a team offers a franchise player they intend to build slowly around. $10.5 million is what a player asks when he sees his team one defenseman and one strong playoff run away from relevant. Neither read is wrong, which is what has made these seven months difficult.
Smith has not created public leverage through any of it. He has not pushed through the media, has not had his representative surface ultimatums, has not done the things a 21-year-old with 83 points in his second full season could credibly threaten. Andrew Cristall and the Rangers have taken the same approach in New York, both players reading from the same page on what not to say before midnight. That restraint is its own statement. Players who intend to test free agency do not spend September at optional skates. Smith has been at every one.
What happens at midnight if the number still does not close is the question neither side will answer publicly. The assumption on both sides is that it closes. The constraint is whether Grier finds $1.4 million of flexibility in a structure he has mapped through 2030, or whether Smith’s camp finds a way to bring the annual value slightly down in exchange for the term security only an eight-year deal provides.
Eight years at $10.1 million is not $10.5 million. But it is also not the seven-year ceiling that midnight brings. That is the number both sides have been moving toward without calling it that. Whether they reach it before the clock does is what tonight is for.

