Bryan Berard sat up in his hospital bed, his head wrapped in bandages. Hours earlier, he was told that he may lose his right eye. A nurse entered with a message. His Toronto teammates were visiting. Show them in, Berard said.

Berard watched his buddies walk in slowly, tentatively. He did not allow the painful silence to last for long. "Guys," the defenseman warbled softly, "I'm going to play again."

There was plenty of public doubt about whether Bryan Berard would return to the NHL -- most intense in those first terrifying days after Ottawa Senator Marian Hossa's stick lacerated his right eyeball in March 2000, and nearly as strong when he "retired" a year later. But not a shred of private skepticism in the Berard family. Bryan Berard was born and bred to play hockey, and even when he was stumbling into door frames he never had a Plan B. This is a man who bet a sure $6.5 million on a seven-day tryout on NHL ice. This is a man who thought not "When will I see again?" but "When will I play again?"

The answer: 18 months (and seven operations) later. This April, Berard returned to working out. In July, he starting tooling around the rink with his boyhood buddies from Rhode Island. In September, he practiced with the U.S. Olympic team. The fellas in stars and bars were stunned at his progress. The recovery process, in Berard's mind, was complete.

But so was an amazing transformation of character. Berard grew up entitled, cocky, and more than a little salty (in New England parlance). His swagger spilled over to his game, where he attacked onrushing forwards as if the puck they carried was stolen property. Berard became a No. 1 overall pick because of that aggression -- he knew when to pinch or jump into the play to start an odd-man rush. That's what he was doing during his last shift as a Maple Leaf.

Now Bryan Berard has been humbled.

"I took things for granted," he said with a boyish smile Sunday night after the Rangers' 5-4 overtime win over Buffalo. "I wasn't focused. I got away from the game."

Like the time he showed up for Islanders camp with a spare tire on his waist and a chip on his shoulder. He looks back on that part of his career and says he's "ashamed." Now? "I've got a smile on my face every day." And he's got a slimmer frame to go with it.

But has Berard, 24, lost something more than weight? Has he lost his edge? Sunday night, in his first Rangers home game, he looked shaky. He could easily be blamed for two of Buffalo's four goals: the first because he underplayed -- an ill-timed pokecheck in the high slot; the second because he overplayed -- coming away from the goalmouth to throw a sloppy check. "I see everything," Berard says. But sight is one thing -- Berard's right eye is 20/400 with a corrective lens, which is legal by NHL standards -- while vision is quite another. "I definitely need to improve some aspects of my game," he admits.

Berard insists his new mindset could be good for his play.

"I think I can be a better player than I was," he says. "Now, I make the first good play I see. Before the injury, I would hang on to the puck too long and make a mistake." But what made Berard truly special was that he kept the puck that extra second, and turned a risk at his own end into a reward at the other.

Bryan Berard was destined for greatness from the time he first put on skates at age 6. He was supposed to go No. 1 overall, supposed to become an All-Star, supposed to get his name on the Cup. Then, in 18 months, he went from unhappy everywhere to just happy to be anywhere. He bravely came to New York because he "wanted a new beginning." Now we'll learn if he is willing to settle for something other than that perfect ending.

Eric Adelson is an associate editor at ESPN The Magazine. E-mail him at eric.adelson@espnmag.com.