In theory, Hamilton could draw from a variety of bedroom communities in the general area. But I wonder if a team there might also cannibalize some of the support that Buffalo as a border city enjoys, drawing Canadian supporters from the other side of the Peace Bridge. I’d be reluctant to damage a viable franchise in Buffalo and I cannot see putting four franchises – two in Toronto, one in Hamilton and one in Buffalo – in such a concentrated area. Instead, what I would do is shift Ottawa to Quebec and relocate one of the weaker U.S. franchises to Toronto. That would give Canada eight of the 32 teams.
Some of you suspicious sorts might believe that I’m making the case for Quebec only because I want to start dining at La Maison de Serge Bruyere again. You are so mistaken!
Remember, when the NHL started soliciting expansion bids in July 2015, it received 16 expressions of interest, but only two bona fide applications: One from Vegas and the other from Quebec City. The league accepted Vegas and rejected Quebec City. Officially, there was all kinds of blather about why they said no, but really it came down to money. Deep down, they didn’t think a franchise in Quebec City could be financially sustainable based on what the league was charging for entry – $500 million U.S., which translated into almost $700 million Canadian, with the currency exchange.
The Jets paid a fraction of that to get into the NHL after True North Sports & Entertainment purchased and then relocated the failing Thrashers from Atlanta to Winnipeg. The fan support has been remarkable – the Jets finally had a game this season which didn’t sell out. The building is small but it still fills up. By maximizing revenues, the Jets can provide a reasonable return on the investment there. But they are doing just OK on the ledger sheet – not wowing anyone.
If Quebec had to pay twice as much or more to get in, logically, they might struggle to operate in the black – even if the bidder, Quebecor Inc., was a media giant that spun off a lot of cash flow. Otherwise, though, Quebec checks all the same boxes as Winnipeg did. It probably has a better building and a similar history of fervent fan support, dating back to its previous NHL and WHA incarnations. If Quebec had been able to land a franchise via relocation at the same price and at the same time as Winnipeg did, it could easily have been just as successful. In my model, Quebec is back in.
Next step: Other than Seattle, which is on its way, is there another city or two in the United States where you’d put a franchise if you could? Houston is the easy obvious first answer. The fourth-largest city in the U.S., a major television market, with a history of minor-league hockey and a natural regional rival for Dallas. Minor hockey has had a remarkably successful run in tiny enclaves in Texas, so there is a reasonable argument to be made for giving Houston a franchise. The fact is, a lot of us believe if Arizona doesn’t get its building issue resolved, that’s where the Coyotes might end up anyway. For this model, rather than wait, let’s move them now.
Just four places down from Houston on the list of most populous U.S. cities, you find San Diego, home to the Ducks’ main minor-league affiliate, the Gulls of the AHL. The Gulls play at the Pechanga Arena, with a capacity of 12,920 for hockey. If we could wave a magic wand and solve the building issue, wouldn’t it make sense to flip the two? Put the NHL team in San Diego, which also has a rich minor-hockey history, and put the farm team in Orange County. It would certainly help fill in Bettman’s geographic footprint and there’s an opportunity for growth with the recent departure of the NFL from the market. Again – all you suspicious types – if you think I’m a fan of San Diego just because I want to sample the lobster roll at Tidal, you are mistaken!
OK, let’s pause here to do the arithmetic so far: We’ve moved Ottawa to Quebec, Arizona to Houston, Anaheim to San Diego and we’ve put the second team in Toronto, which means someone else is losing their franchise. But who? If you had to vote among the five remaining bubble teams – Devils, Islanders, Panthers, Blue Jackets and Hurricanes – which one draws the short straw?
It’s time now to think of it as “Survivor” in reverse and I’m awarding the Islanders a win in the first immunity challenge. They’re on their way back, I believe, and once they get the arena sorted out, they’ll be fine. Columbus? The Blue Jackets fans proved during last year’s playoff run – and the patience they’ve demonstrated with this year’s no-name, hard-working bunch – that hockey has a home in Columbus. They’re safe too.
It leaves three: Devils, Panthers and Hurricanes.
I briefly considered the possibility of putting one of the three in Kansas City because there is a building there, needing a tenant. Right at the moment, the hockey option in Kansas City is an ECHL team, the Kansas City Mavericks. Kansas City had a brief life as NHL franchise, joining the league in 1973-74, alongside the Washington Capitals.
But while the Caps survived, Kansas City moved to Denver to become the Colorado Rockies and then subsequently shifted to New Jersey to become the Devils. It’s been a rough ride for the Devils at the box office ever since. Can they survive? Any team, properly funded, can. But should they survive, at the expense of either Florida or Carolina?
Whenever there was talk of the Panthers possibly pulling up stakes – and maybe moving to Quebec – people would remind you that there’s a favourable lease deal in place in Sunrise, which helps mitigate some of the losses. For the purposes of this exercise, lease deals don’t matter.
But what I do believe is that if the Panthers were operating out of a downtown Miami arena, it would be a different story. I was actually in the building the day the ‘rat craze’ started – Oct. 8, 1995, a game in which Florida defeated the Calgary Flames 4-3 in their opening game of the 1995-96 season. That day, Panthers forward Scott Mellanby killed a rat with his stick prior to the game and then used the same stick to score two goals in the win. After the game, goaltender John Vanbiesbrouck dubbed it a “rat trick” – which started the tradition of plastic rats raining down on the ice whenever a Panthers player would score during their unexpected run to the 1996 Stanley Cup final.
The franchise hasn’t been able to duplicate that success since then, but the memory of that partisan fan support makes me believe that if the team was operating out of downtown again, it would have a far wider appeal than being stranded out in Sunrise.
So, Florida survives, but in Miami, not Sunrise. And I’m going to give Dundon the benefit of the doubt in Carolina because he is a disrupter and the world seems to favour that brand of entrepreneurship these days. Initially, when I started this exercise, I probably had Carolina losing its team. But once I started shuffling the pieces around, I ultimately decided to give them a reprieve. That means New Jersey moves north to become the second team in the Toronto area.
What the exercise demonstrated to me is that the NHL franchise base doesn’t actually need major surgery, even if you could start over from scratch – and that natural selection has mostly put the teams in the markets where they belong.
The one thing that I would change for sure is the division names.
In our new NHL world, we would either go back to historical names of the past (Adams, Patrick, Norris, Smythe) or switch to iconic names of a more recent era, in which case the Adams would become the Orr (for Bobby) the Patrick the Lemieux (for Mario) the Smythe the Gretzky (for Wayne) and the Norris the Howe (for Gordie – and as a nod to our new entry from Houston, where Howe played for the WHA Aeros). I could also be coaxed into renaming the Norris for the Hull (because Bobby was the face of the Blackhawks franchise for so long and Brett was the face of the Blues. Ultimately, here’s what the 32-team NHL might look like it if started over today:
