Jonathan David's artistry whetting the appetite of Canadian soccer fans a year out from 2026 World Cup

Top strikers are architects. They are builders and engineers. They see an empty space, and they imagine the most beautiful way to fill it. They see possibility, and they turn it into something true.

Jonathan David is the greatest striker in the history of the Canadian men's program. He's 25 years old, and he's scored more goals than anyone who has come before him. In Saturday's emphatic win over Ukraine in Toronto, he scored two more, the 33rd and 34th of his national-team career.

The first was workmanlike, an object of his desire and efficiency: right place, right time.

The second was a masterpiece, a product of his artistry.

On Sunday, David, at the start of the most critical year of his professional life, sat down for an exclusive interview with CBC at the team's downtown hotel. He isn't a towering physical specimen, a monster masquerading as a man. He's quiet and contained. When so many of the world's best strikers are characters, the flamboyant giants of the game, he's almost remarkably unremarkable.

"I'm a calm guy," he said. "I don't really go out that much. I prefer to stay in my room, just relaxing."

WATCH | Jonathan David scores twice, Canada downs Ukraine at Canadian Shield:

That was before he was asked about his gorgeous goal, and he talked about what it takes to make something beautiful. David's vision is his gift, the reason he will join a top European side this summer after five years at Lille of France's Ligue 1. Saturday's demonstration will only improve his prospects. The thought of it made him shine.

"This one was…"

He didn't finish his sentence. He stopped to smile, and then he went back to the beginning, with Tajon Buchanan outside the 18-yard box, looking to curl in a cross.

"I don't know exactly where Tajon is going to get the ball," he said in the present tense, the way so many athletes do when they remember their finest moments. "I'm just running into an area where maybe he's going to land it."

David knows that every monument has its foundation, which in his case means cutting in front of his defender. He did that, too. He used his experience and discipline to set himself up for a chance, ten yards in front of the Ukrainian goal.

He also took note of the goalkeeper's position, shading a little to David's right. David's decision to aim left was less a thought than an instantaneous calculation. "It's almost instinct," he said. "This is where I have to put it."

The hardest part of the process came next. He knew what he wanted to do.

Now he had to do it.

The same is true for his ascendant Canadian side, for everyone involved in making next summer's World Cup something glorious, something singular. For the first time, Canada, along with the U.S. and Mexico, will co-host the biggest sporting event on Earth.

It's a massive undertaking, with every kind of potential, and every possible outcome.

BMO Field, the stage for David's latest heroics, is a construction site, with a construction site's rough assembly of ambition and nerves. Exactly a year before Canada's men kick off their World Cup campaign on the same field, two of four new videoboards are up. Gates are under renovation. The space for 17,000 additional seats has been cleared but none of them are in place.

The dream is half-built. It will, in soccer and in life, come down to the finish.

David ducked under Buchanan's perfect delivery, and the ball glanced off the top of his head. In different circumstances, that touch might have been a mistake — a soft effort, an imperfect collision. But David meant to do what he did. "The intention was to put it on that side," he said.

The ball floated toward the top corner, inches inside the post. He turned to watch its flight. The goalkeeper, rooted to his spot, watched it with him.

David hadn't needed to do anything dramatic. It was enough that he did the unexpected. The goal that, a half-second before, had been something only he could see, now belonged to every Canadian soccer fan, as if a promise he'd made to himself had become a prophecy for the rest of us.

Jonathan David returned to his first thought and finished his sentence.

"Even better than I imagined," he said.