The almost-Ranger who could answer a crucial defense question

More than a decade ago, the New York Rangers were pursuing depth on the right side as the truncated 2012-13 season wore on. Andrej Sustr, a 6-foot-7 defenseman from Plzen, Czechia, had just finished two seasons at Nebraska-Omaha after stints in the NAHL and USHL, and the organization believed he could be the answer on the right side. But the 22-year-old chose a different path.

Instead of signing with the Rangers, Sustr signed with the Tampa Bay Lightning, a decision analysts described as offering a clearer route to the NHL and more opportunities for a young defenseman. The Lightning were eager to add his size and right-handed shot, and the choice reshaped both his career and the Rangers' depth plan. The Rangers had hoped he would provide a late-season lift on the back end; instead, he embarked on a trajectory that would place him in the NHL with another organization.

The life arc of Sustr—one that began in Czech youth hockey, moved through the NAHL and USHL, continued at Nebraska-Omaha, and then led to the Lightning—has become a reminder of how talent evaluators weigh long-term potential against immediate NHL access. In the short term, the Rangers were aiming to shore up a right-side defense that season; in the long term, Sustr’s decision to sign with Tampa Bay shaped the course of his pro career and serves as a case study in how near-misses can influence franchise rosters years later.

The specific dynamic in 2012-13 was straightforward: the Rangers were short on dependable right-shot defenders ready to contribute down the stretch, and Sustr’s profile—a tall, mobile right-hand shot who had demonstrated promise during his college years—appeared to offer a plausible fit. Evaluators balanced his size, reach, and projected development with the reality of adapting to the NHL’s pace. The decision to not lock him in and instead watch him develop elsewhere is framed in the current discussion as a notable moment of roster mathematics: when opportunity, not just potential, determines the early destinies of young players.

As Sustr progressed with the Lightning and later in his pro career, the implications of that decision evolved. The Lightning, who extended a clearer path to the NHL at the time, benefited from adding a young defenseman who could grow into a role that required size, reach, and the ability to defend by force of length. The Rangers, meanwhile, recalibrated their blueline plans, remained attentive to how a right-shot defenseman could fit into their strategic timeline, and continued to explore other options that could complement established veterans.

The New York Post’s framing of Sustr as the “almost-Ranger” who now could answer a crucial defense question underscores a broader theme in professional hockey: small, early pivots can influence how teams assess talent for years to come. A player’s decision at a crossroads—signed with one organization instead of another—can ripple through a franchise’s immediate needs and long-term configuration. In Sustr’s case, the path he chose redirected his NHL entry, contributed to the composition of his eventual teams, and provided a talking point for how front offices weigh right-side depth when timelines collide with development.

Looking back at the 2012-13 stretch run through the prism of 2025, the episode stands as a reminder that the NHL’s talent pipeline is not a straight line. A 22-year-old defenseman’s choice—between a team’s immediate need and a broader, longer arc of opportunity—can shape the rosters that teams field in the present and the future. For the Rangers, as for many organizations, the balance between filling a deficit now and investing in a prospect’s growth remains a perennial challenge, one that continues to influence recruitment, development, and, ultimately, the composition of a championship contender.

In Sustr’s case, his career beyond that decision illustrates the realities of pro hockey: size and role matter, opportunities to crack the NHL’s lineup can hinge on timing, and the path to the top is rarely a straight shot from junior hockey to a long, uninterrupted tenure with a single club. The “almost-Ranger” label endures as a historical footnote, but the broader takeaway is clear: teams must weigh both present gaps and future development when they chart their defense corps, and the choices made in quiet moments can echo for years in a franchise’s silhouette.