The Case for Coming Home
A key distinction when evaluating Canadian expansion is that you’re not playing the same game as with U.S. markets.
The raw numbers will always favor the U.S. The population, corporations, and TV money are unmatched. But what Canada brings to the table is pure, guaranteed passion. In Canada, you can place a team into a market a fraction the size of Atlanta, and you’ll get season ticket waitlists, local sponsors lining up, and full houses every night. It’s less about “if it’ll work,” and more about how to leverage its inevitable success.
You don’t invest in Canada for growth curves or expansion fees; you invest for certainty, culture, and legacy. These are markets where the game is already a religion, where you just need to build them a cathedral.
This is About Restoration
Quebec City, despite being a smaller market by U.S. standards, would be cash-flow positive from day one. The fans are already there, the building is already in place, and the emotional attachment to the team has never faded. That franchise wouldn’t be an experiment; it would be a restoration.
This is a team that would sell out season tickets immediately. It would drive huge merchandise sales from the start. It would be a prime-time event in Quebec, across French Canada, and even for hardcore fans across the league who still see the Nordiques as one of the all-time great “what could have been” stories.
Expansion teams in non-traditional markets, even big ones, often need years of nurturing before they become profitable. Quebec doesn’t need any of that because it enters as a team that immediately adds to league revenue. TV rights in Canada are already massive, this would give Sportsnet more content to sell. Local sponsors would rush in. Unlike in the South, where you have to convince people to care, in Quebec, you have to convince people not to trample each other trying to get into the building.
The only thing stopping it is the league’s obsession with U.S. TV market growth. But if you step back and view it as a long-term owner or operator, Quebec City isn’t just viable; it’s one of the safest financial plays the league could make. There’s a chance they could see more actual operating profit from a 10,000-seat sellout every night in Quebec than from a half-full arena in a sprawling southern market that’s still finding its footing.
The Soul of the Game Lives Here
After Quebec City, the league could look elsewhere in the east. It’s not a conventional expansion target, but if you’re looking for soul, continuity with the game’s roots, and a place that would wear its NHL franchise like a badge of honor, Halifax is the place. The Maritimes, as a region, are hockey-obsessed. You’ve got deep junior roots, a thriving grassroots culture, and an emotional connection to the sport that’s as strong as anywhere in Canada. Halifax wouldn’t just support a team; it would love it.
The city has charm and character that would make it one of the most unique brands in the league. It’s scenic, tightly-knit, culturally proud, and distinctly East Coast. The fan culture would be unlike anything else in the NHL: loud, loyal, community-based, and full of tradition. The business infrastructure isn’t as deep as Toronto or Montreal, so the sponsorship base would be more regional than corporate-heavy. But what you lose in scale, you gain in purity. This would be a franchise that runs lean but thrives off full buildings, merchandise, and an incredibly loyal fanbase that sticks with you through every up and down.
It also gives the NHL something it rarely gets these days: a chance to expand into a market that feels fresh, yet deeply aligned with the sport’s soul. Halifax wouldn’t be a flashy media grab, but it would be one of those teams that quietly becomes essential to the league’s fabric. Like Winnipeg, it wouldn’t need to be the biggest; it would just need to be authentic, and that’s something you can’t buy. You either have it or you don’t, and Halifax has it.
The People’s Team in Waiting
Hamilton is one of the most obvious yet strangely avoided options in Canadian expansion, and if you’re thinking like an investor who understands power dynamics, it starts to make a lot of sense why it hasn’t happened, not because it wouldn’t work, but because it would work too well in a way that disrupts existing interests. From a pure market standpoint, Hamilton is an obvious choice. You’re in the heart of the Golden Horseshoe, surrounded by millions of people, many of whom are priced out of Leafs games or detached with how corporate that franchise has become. The city itself has gritty, working-class pride that has always defined it as not Toronto. You’re not trying to compete with the Leafs; you’re positioning against them, giving Southern Ontario a second team that reflects the people, not the suits.
From a business perspective, if you’re the league and thinking long-term, you have to ask: what’s the better move, protecting legacy markets or unlocking a second Ontario team that would print money from day one? This is a region that shows up for OHL games, minor league events, or anything with a puck on ice. It would also spark immediate rivalries. Leafs, Sabres, even Ottawa, all have built-in tension across the board. You’d instantly have one of the most passionate, intense markets in the league. And with the right ownership group it could become a flagship Canadian franchise in a matter of years.
Small Market with a Big Soul
Victoria is one of those markets that doesn’t pop on a spreadsheet but keeps showing up in the minds of people who understand what makes a hockey city special. It gives you something rare in pro sports: a truly unique, isolated market that still sits close enough to major cities (Vancouver and Seattle) to develop regional rivalries, while carving out its own distinct identity. It doesn’t compete with Vancouver; it’s quieter, more relaxed, more intimate. That’s an advantage if you position the team the right way, as a franchise that leans into the Pacific Northwest lifestyle.
The arena situation would need work. You wouldn’t need a mega-arena, just a well-designed, 12,000–13,000 seat building that feels modern, tight, and loud. This would be one of those places where a smaller venue is a feature, not a flaw. You’d sell it out every night. It would become the toughest ticket in Canada. It’s not a market for the faint of heart, but if you want to build a franchise that’s tight, beloved, and woven into the city’s DNA, the kind of team people pass down to their kids like a legacy jersey, Victoria could be one of the smartest small-market bets in the league. It wouldn’t be about scale; it would be about belonging. And that’s something the NHL could use more of.
40 Teams Is Not a Fantasy
The real Canadian vision isn’t just about where the teams will be, but where the league itself is going. The idea of a 40-team NHL, which would’ve sounded ridiculous even 15 years ago, now feels not only plausible but strategically inevitable, if you’re thinking like a commissioner who wants to maximize reach, revenue, and valuation over the next few decades.
The NHL is slowly positioning itself like a long-term growth asset rather than a static legacy league. With Seattle and Utah in place, and with several large, strategically positioned markets still untapped (Houston, Atlanta, Quebec City, etc.), we’re not far from 34. That means only six more are needed to hit 40, and if the next round of expansion fees clears $1 billion each, which it likely will, that’s an instant $6 billion infusion straight into owners’ pockets. You better believe they’re going to vote yes when that day comes.
But it’s not just about expansion fees. The real shift is in how the league will make money. The more teams you have, the more inventory you create. More games, more localized content, more city-based branding opportunities, more micro-transactions on digital platforms. In the next decade, you’ll likely see the league shift toward a layered system of national rights, regional streaming packages, and even team-level subscription content. When you have 40 teams, suddenly you can create dynamic scheduling blocks, regional mini-conferences, and daily hockey content that spans coast-to-coast, creating the consistency that advertisers and streamers love.
There’s also the real estate angle, which is arguably the most underappreciated. The owners aren’t just trying to own a team; they’re trying to control the arena, the entertainment district, the parking lots, the hotels, the naming rights, the development zones. The more teams the NHL adds, the more they can replicate this “team as an anchor tenant” model. The real challenge will be scheduling and playoff format. With 40 teams, you can’t run the same 82-game calendar forever.
40 teams could work, but more importantly, so could the platform underneath those teams that will define the NHL’s future. A digital-first, globally-minded, property-leveraging, content-producing ecosystem that’s much more than who plays where, because if they get it right, the NHL could quietly become one of the smartest long-term growth assets in all of sports.