Religion on Ice
With springtime this year returns a particular type of seasonal frenzy: the Montreal Canadiens, darlings of the city and local media obsession, are in the NHL playoffs. In a place where the terms ‘hockey’ and ‘civic pride’ are often interchangeable, Montrealers have responded in a flurry of excitement and anticipation. Even the police, traditionally wary of such times thanks to infamous hockey-fueled riots (see 1955, 1986 and 1993), have made their peace with the fans by sporting Canadiens flags on their cruisers. Just like many taxis, and a decent percentage of vehicles in the city.
The Canadiens in the playoffs aren’t just the talk of the town: they are the town. Social calendars revolve around game nights, and the landscape is noticeably more bleu, blanc et rouge. The acoustics inside the Bell Centre, the team’s arena, are rarely below a deafening roar. Beer is still unbelievably overpriced, the in-game light-and-sound show designed for suffers of attention deficit disorder is as ingratiating as ever- but no one cares. Attention is focused on the drama playing out on the ice. The goalie of the Boston Bruins, who have the current misfortune of being on the wrong end of Montreal fans’ energy, equated his appearance at Montreal’s temple of hockey with being like a gladiator. Thankfully, these days you only get killed by the media and jeers as opposed to your opponent’s blade.
Worship of the Canadiens is perhaps so strong because of hockey’s power of unification. In a city so traditionally divided by linguistics and political allegiances, here is something that everyone can get behind with no questions asked. The storied history of the team has provided common legends for all Montrealers to consider their own- English, French or otherwise. This year’s crop of players have a particularly Russian flavour. Much more so than the vapid corporate nonsense of the Olympics, here’s an example of the power of sport and spectacle to transcend societal divisions. Rich? Poor? Federalist? Separatist? Doctor? Truck Driver? All are glued to a screen or their seats, ready to burst forth in celebration or, alternatively, in brutal cursing of the referee. It takes quite the stodgy curmudgeon not to get caught up in this hockey fever.
It has been oft argued that nationalism has replaced Catholicism as Quebec’s dominant religion, but to this I would add that hockey is equally carrying the weight of spirituality in this post-Christian society. And if the Canadiens are the deity of choice in these parts, then this is the holy season. And what is fueling this faith? The belief that, in a league hijacked by marketing and American sunbelt cities with indifferent fans, hockey’s ultimate prize might just return to its true home.