Earlier this week, Adam Proteau discussed the rivalry between the Montreal Canadiens and Ottawa Senators. While there’s definitely some competition—and players from both teams admit they dislike each other—the rivalry doesn’t compare to some of the most intense matchups Canadiens fans have witnessed.
Brendan Gallagher recently called out Tim Stutzl, and Juraj Slavkovsky stirred things up further by saying he needs to play like Brady Tkachuk to succeed. Despite this, the tension hasn’t yet reached the extreme levels seen in the past.
Reflecting on the Canadiens’ past, I wonder if they ever matched the fierce rivalry they had with the Quebec Nordiques from 1980 to 1996. I was born in 1980 in Saint-Geèn-Crysostorm, a small town that later merged with Levis on Quebec’s south shore, which meant I was predisposed to rooting for the Nordiques. However, my father, a loyal Fleury fan, made a critical error by introducing me to hockey the same year Patrick Roy burst onto the scene.
Roy’s incredible saves quickly made him my favorite player, and I eagerly watched games, even mimicking his goalie moves with pillows on my feet. That spring, when the Canadiens won the Stanley Cup, I was six years old and became a full-fledged Canadiens fan, much to my dad’s disappointment. But he managed to convince my mother to let me watch every game, even the finals against the Calgary Flames.
From then on, I devoured hockey news every day, teasing my dad mercilessly when the Nordiques lost. Though I was too young to fully appreciate the brutal Adams Division playoffs and the year of Good Friday Mayhem, I later learned how intense the Quebec-Montreal rivalry truly was.
One revealing book, which compiles 40 articles on legendary hockey games, included an account from former referee Kelly Fraser about the 1985 playoff series between these teams. Fraser recounted waking up on game day with red, itchy spots all over his body, which a pharmacist attributed to anxiety-induced hives—a testament to the rivalry’s weight.
Eight years later, during another first-round playoff series, the teasing from my father reached new heights when the Nordiques initially led 2-0. Like many Quebec fans, he thought Montreal was finished, but the Canadiens mounted a comeback and won the series and game six, prompting even more playful banter.
Less than two years later, the Nordiques were sold and relocated to Colorado, ending that chapter. On the night of their last game in December 1995, my father surprisingly didn’t tease me. At 15, I was furious when the Canadiens chose Mario Tremblay over the franchise’s face, and bewildered when Roy was traded to the Colorado Avalanche. My dad remarked, “Well, I guess we root for the same team now. Colorado has my team and your goalie.”
I couldn’t bring myself to switch loyalties; by then, I’d been a Canadiens fan for nearly a decade. A few months later, during a school trip when Roy returned to Montreal in his new colors, I wore a Nordiques jersey for the first and last time—even though it felt wrong.
This story highlights how deep hockey rivalries run, resonating through generations and shaping lifelong fandom.
Fan Take: This piece reminds hockey fans how rivalries transcend the rink, influencing the identity and passion of their communities. Understanding these historic battles enriches our appreciation of the sport and its emotional impact on players and fans alike.
