Women’s Hockey Is Thriving — Should Canada Follow Its Lead?
- tgandco2
- Jan 8
- 5 min read
Teresa and I recently attended a Toronto Sceptres game, with the team hosting the New York Sirens. We’ve tried to make this an annual tradition ever since the Sceptres moved to Coca-Cola Coliseum at Exhibition Place. In their first year in the league—when they played at the rink above the Loblaws at the old Maple Leaf Gardens site—tickets were nearly impossible to get. These days, access is still competitive, but far more realistic.
And from the moment you start planning the night, the differences between a Sceptres game and a Toronto Maple Leafs game are striking—and, in my view, overwhelmingly positive.
Before You Even Get to the Arena
Let’s start with the obvious: ticket prices.
Tickets for a Sceptres game, purchased directly from the team’s website (through Ticketmaster, unfortunately), typically range from $70 to $133. That’s roughly one-third of the face value of a Leafs ticket. Of course, most Leafs fans don’t buy tickets at face value. They buy resale tickets—often at four or five times the cost of a Sceptres ticket. Playoff tickets regularly exceed $1,000. Yes, $70–$133 is still out of reach for many people. But compared to NHL pricing, women’s hockey remains far more affordable and accessible.
An Arena That Feels Human
The Coca-Cola Coliseum seats approximately 8,140 fans, making it feel comfortable and intimate rather than cavernous. We were sitting in Row N at the blue line, near the top of the arena, and still had a great view of the action.
But the most noticeable—and positive—difference wasn’t the seating. It was the crowd itself.
While no official demographic data is published, my informal (and Teresa-confirmed) visual survey looked something like this:
Roughly 70% of the crowd was female, the inverse of a Leafs game. (Bonus: this meant no restroom lineup for me, but very long ones for Teresa.)
The crowd was ethnically diverse, with a noticeable number of Asian and South Asian women, and generally more people of colour than you typically see at an NHL game.
The age range was wide. There were many older and senior women, proudly wearing Sceptres jerseys, clearly enjoying the game together.
There were also lots of young girls, mostly with their moms, some with both parents, and a few with just their dads.
Most fans were wearing team jerseys or Sceptres gear. Teresa and I were definitely in the minority without any logo’d apparel—which we’ll be correcting next time.
A Crowd That’s Actually There for the Game
The crowd was engaged. People were in their seats for puck drop every period. There was cheering, chanting, dancing, and genuine enthusiasm.
Fans were frequently shown on the big screen, and—this is important—it looked like people were actually having fun.
Contrast that with Leafs games, where if you’ve ever watched on TV, you’ll notice the platinum seats are often empty at the start of periods. Corporate ticket holders are still eating and drinking in the private lounges below the stands. (Personal aside: when I used to host clients in those boxes, I always told them it was a “rule” that we had to be in our seats for puck drop.)
Setting the Tone: Safety and Respect
Before the game, in addition to the standard safety announcements and an Indigenous land acknowledgment, there was something else I’d never heard at an NHL game.
The Sceptres made it clear that:
Cheering and chanting are encouraged
The arena is meant to be a safe space for fans and staff
Abusive behaviour of any kind will not be tolerated
I haven’t been to a Leafs game in a few years, but this was not something I ever recall hearing there.
Sportsmanship Still Matters
A couple of final touches stood out.
At the end of the game:
The players shook hands, which is common in international hockey but unheard of in the NHL except in elimination games in the playoffs.
Despite losing, the Sceptres gathered at centre ice to salute the crowd. In the NHL, teams typically acknowledge the fans only after a win. After a loss, they tend to skate straight off.
These small gestures mattered. They reinforced the sense that this is a community, not just a product.
And the Hockey?
The Sirens won 2–1, and while it was a low-scoring game, it was fast, physical, and full of action.
Honestly? I found it more entertaining than many Leafs games earlier this season.
Why Women’s Hockey Might Be a Model for Canada
So why do I believe women’s hockey could be a model for broader Canadian hockey success? Because anything that makes sport more diverse, welcoming, and less toxic is a recipe for long-term success. Women’s hockey has largely achieved that—and, just as importantly, has avoided many of the cultural failures that continue to plague men’s hockey, particularly at the junior level.
The Problem Men’s Hockey Won’t Confront
Men’s junior hockey and Hockey Canada have consistently refused to create a centralized database to track:
hazing
harassment
sexual abuse
Meanwhile:
Junior leagues (CHL, OHL, WHL, QMJHL) face multiple class-action lawsuits alleging decades of ritualized hazing involving sexual abuse, racism, and violence.
Hockey Canada settled 21 sexual assault cases (1989–2022), paying nearly $9 million, mostly tied to junior players.
CBC has documented at least 50 players accused of group sexual assaults, with 25 charged and only one conviction (via plea deal).
A QMJHL class action filed in 2024 details abuse dating back to 1968, seeking $15.65 million.
Journalist Rick Westhead—who broke the story of the 2003 Canadian World Junior sexual assault—documents in his book We Breed Lions not just that case, but a systemic culture of hazing, racism, and sexual violence that hockey leadership has refused to meaningfully confront.
Culture Matters More Than Star Power
A safe environment for players and fans is infinitely better than one that tolerates—or enables—abuse. Women’s hockey leads the way here.
Meanwhile, Canada’s men’s junior team has now failed to win gold three consecutive years, prompting widespread second-guessing. To be clear, I am not an expert in managing a hockey team. I am just a fan who loves to see Canada win.
This year’s team was stacked:
Every Canadian forward was a first-round NHL draft pick, except Gavin McKenna, who is projected to go first overall in 2026
Yet once again, Canada failed to get past Czechia.
Criticism after the fact pointed to:
arrogance
poor backchecking
undisciplined penalties
an entitled attitude rooted in a toxic youth hockey culture
Did the players care? I think they did. Their interviews seemed sincere.
But realistically, Gavin McKenna (just to use him as an example) is likely focused on:
being drafted first overall
completing his entry-level contract
securing a lucrative NHL career
If that happens, his World Junior performances will be quickly forgotten by both him and the media.
A Different Way to Build a Team
Interestingly, Doug Armstrong, GM of Canada’s Olympic team for 2026, pushed back against criticism by saying he wasn’t selecting an all-star roster—but a team built to win gold.
Let’s hope he’s right. (I still think Matthew Schaefer and Sam Bennett should have been included—but I’m just another second-guessing Canadian hockey fan.)
A Fair Note on Women’s Hockey
To be balanced, the Canadian Women’s National Team hasn’t had a great 2025–26 season and has struggled against the United States. Winning Olympic gold in Milan won’t be easy.
Still, let’s hope they do it.
So… Is Women’s Hockey Perfect?
Not at all.
But a sport that is inclusive, welcoming, fun, and safe has a far stronger foundation than one burdened by toxicity and leadership unwilling to confront it. That’s why I believe women’s hockey isn’t just succeeding—it’s showing Canada a better way forward.
As long as your comments are professional and civil, I’d love to hear from you:
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