Florida is now the Stanley Cup's semi-permanent home. What does that mean for Canada?

The Guardian

4 hours ago

'There are a lot of things I do not understand about this proposed expansion,' New York Times sports columnist George Vecsey wrote in December 1992, as the NHL wrapped up its annual Board of Governors meeting in Palm Beach, Florida. During that week's meeting, the league received expansion proposals for two teams. One was for a team in Anaheim, California, backed by Disney. The other was for a team in Miami, Florida, put forward by waste management-and-VHS-video magnate, Wayne Huizenga. 'What makes it think the Sun Belt is ready for all these hockey teams?' Vecsey wondered.
At the time, the answer was money. With more time, the answer seems to be: because championship hockey teams can be built anywhere, including in the South. On Tuesday night in Florida, the Panthers won their second-straight Stanley Cup against the Edmonton Oilers, this time in six games – one fewer than they needed last season. If anything, you could now argue that there's no better place to build a championship NHL team than the southern US. Since 1990, the Stanley Cup has been awarded to a team based in the South nine times – but five of those have come in the last six years. And three of those have also been against Canadian teams.
North of the border back in 1992, the fear of American dominance was palpable, even though, at that time, the most recent expansion to Tampa Bay and San Jose (alongside Ottawa) looked like an on-ice failure. Nevertheless, the mere presence of these teams, not to mention two more, was a concern.
'This is the age of marketing, my friends, and we're selling image, brand names, fuzzy feelings and merchandising opportunities,' Globe and Mail sports columnist John Allemang warned after the NHL's December 1992 meeting, sarcastically proposing changes for the increasingly Americanized, commodified game. 'Let's scrap this three-period stuff, introduce the concept of half-time,' he snarked. 'Emilio Estevez learned to skate for Mighty Ducks, give him a chance, tell him the wife [Paula Abdul] can sing the national anthem. The American anthem, stupid. Is there any other?' Beyond the potential for merch sales and richer owners, 'does anyone else win?' Montreal Gazette columnist Pat Hickey asked around the same time. 'Then there's the question of what these new franchises do for the Canadian psyche,' Hickey wrote. 'If we ever thought this was our game, the latest decision on expansion should dispel this notion.'
It seems hardly worth repeating that Florida's win Tuesday further extends the Canadian Stanley Cup drought to now 32 years, more or less fulfilling the worst fears of those sports columnists, and many others, who saw the NHL's US growth as a threat to the sport's true identity and thus by extension to that of its birth country, Canada. And they weren't entirely wrong. This year, more than most others, the existential threat of American dominance on the ice spoke to a bigger Canadian national identity crisis that would have seemed unthinkable in 1992. The idea that Canada, including hockey, could be subsumed by the US has felt more pressing than ever. Canadians – like swimming phenom Summer McIntosh or NBA MVP Shai Gilgeous-Alexander – are dominating in other sports. Youth hockey numbers may be declining, loosening generational ties to the game. Yet, nothing still spurs deep national anxiety like hockey failure.
So yes, yet another Cup hoisted in the US – in Florida, again, no less – certainly stings a little from a nationalist point of view for Canadians. It fulfils all the worst nightmares of 1992's sports writers. But the Oilers' loss is frankly more frustrating strictly from a hockey perspective. Taken together, the Oilers' undisciplined play, general lack of offence, uneven goaltending, and lacklustre defence in the clutch, made it not only difficult to believe they could win, but that they even should. The Panthers are a scary-good hockey club, with a roster filled with pure gamers, the likes of which other teams only have one or two. Florida play an aggressive, often suffocating offence, and are backed by elite goaltending. The Panthers play great hockey. They just happen to be in Florida. There may not be a lot else to it.
It may be, in fact, that the quality of hockey in south Florida is so high because of, rather than in spite of, all that marketing and money and commercialization the NHL welcomed in the early 1990s. Expansion meant that the league – and by extension, the game – had to find a way to appeal to new audiences, most of whom had been living just fine without it until then. This meant that the NHL had to rethink its product. It had to embrace something much of the hockey world still often reflexively rejects – change. Over the decades, the NHL gradually morphed hockey into something new. Along the way, the game lost some aspects, like enforcers, but added things like goals. It got faster, more finessed, more exciting, more watchable, even as some argued it was somehow softer. It hasn't always gone smoothly (it's worth mentioning here that Atlanta is looking to get a new team for the third time), but its audiences and profits also grew, more or less according to plan. And so far, hockey hasn't lost its Canadian identity. After the NHL's buzzy, highly commercialized Four Nations tournament this past spring, it may even be more entrenched than ever.
Looking back now, it's clear that the cynical, calculated marketing — and of course the money — were indeed the point of the NHL's expansion to a place like Florida. But they didn't destroy hockey. Instead, it just keeps getting better.