When women take the ice

The first pair of skates I owned were figure skates, but that didn’t stop me. My mom, who spent every evening of her childhood learning ice skating tricks, would help my sister and me lace up our skates and join us on the backyard rink my dad had built. Once there, we weren’t enamoured by her leaps and spins. Even with an ice pick on the front of our blades, we always bee-lined for the hockey sticks.

We’d spend hours ignoring the freezing sensation that crept into our toes and fighting over which one of us got to be Hayley Wickenheiser as we chased our dad and brother around the rink.

As I reflect on some of my favourite memories from the backyard rink, it strikes me that even as partially equipped hockey players, my sister and I wanted someone to look up to and embody. But we only knew one player.

The birth of the PWHL

The Canadian women’s hockey landscape has dramatically changed in the last 10 years.

On January 1, 2024, the brand-new Professional Women’s Hockey League (PWHL) held its first-ever game between Toronto and New York. This inaugural game marked the beginning of a thriving women’s hockey league in North America. The best female players in the world had been divided into six teams via a draft six months earlier, and now, their season had officially begun.

In that first year there were no team names or fancy jerseys, just six cities (Toronto, Ottawa, Montreal, New York, Boston and Minnesota), 156 players and a rising base of dedicated fans.

Fast forward to 2026, and now it’s the third season of what has become a hugely successful league with vibrant fan bases and an increasing demand for even more teams. Official team names were added last year – meet the Toronto Sceptres, Ottawa Charge, Montreal Victoire, New York Sirens, Boston Fleet and Minnesota Frost. And this year, the PWHL has expanded to include two new teams, the Vancouver Goldeneyes and the Seattle Torrent.

Women’s hockey is on a new, epic stage. And it’s cool, not just because it advances the equality and representation of women in sports, but because of the excellence we’re seeing take the ice.
Marie-Philip Poulin continues to prove she’s the best in the world; rookie talents like Sarah Fillier are occupying top spots on league leaderboards; and the Minnesota Frost have begun a dynasty with two consecutive championships already under their belt.

Last year, the league held nine Takeover Tour games where pairs of Original Six teams travelled to hockey markets across Canada and the United States (Seattle, Vancouver, Denver, Quebec City, Edmonton, Buffalo, Raleigh, Detroit and St. Louis) to showcase the league and explore options for team expansions. While on tour, the PWHL broke attendance records and bolstered enough fan engagement to secure the two expansion franchises that joined this season. In total, 123,601 fans showed up, and multiple NHL rinks sold out. Another Takeover Tour has been planned, and as a result, there are reports that up to four new expansion teams could be joining as soon as next year.

A front row seat to the league

I remember the first time I saw the newly minted PWHL stars take the ice. I sat in the nosebleeds at Scotiabank Arena in Toronto. It was the first night of the NHL All-Star Weekend in 2024, and time for a special three-on-three PWHL showcase. As Sarah Nurse and Renata Fast battled on the very ice that I’d always thought belonged to male hockey players, I leaned in and tried not to blink. Even though they were playing for fun and to bring awareness to the new league, I knew this moment was something to cherish.

The year the PWHL started also happened to be the same year I began a graduate degree in sports journalism. Just as female players had their first opportunity to take the ice in a fully professional league, I had my first opportunity to write about sports. The PWHL immediately caught my attention.

The first professional sporting event I covered was the 2025 Battle on Bay Street. On January 25, the Toronto Sceptres hosted the New York Sirens at Scotiabank Arena for what would become a yearly tradition in the biggest arena in hockey’s biggest market.

I showed up two hours early, set up my laptop and rolled my chair up to the countertop desk that gave me a perfect birds-eye-view of all 19,102 soon-to-be-filled seats. From that moment until the final whistle, I didn’t leave my chair. Instead, I focused on the people filing in, on the joy I could see light up each fan as they lifted their rally towels. I watched thousands of young girls sporting their local club jerseys, who now had a chance to watch players like them on a huge stage for the first time.

The jumbotron picked them up, too, and as beaming young players waved at the camera and held up their handmade signs for Alex Carpenter and Natalie Spooner, I held back tears.

That entire day, I’d been caught up in how incredible this game was for my career, but now, finally in the moment, it wasn’t about me covering my first professional hockey game. It was about what the league meant for players who’d never had this opportunity, and even more, for young girls who’d never had an example like this to look up to.

As I sat peering over the edge of my laptop at the new hockey world in front of me, I realized I felt a sense of community even as I sat by myself in the press box. I had an inexplicable connection to the thousands of people who shared that space with me.

I realized there’d be no more fighting over who gets to be Hayley Wickenheiser.

PWHL is doing things differently

The feeling of community I experienced at my first PWHL game hasn’t been shaken. As I’ve attended more games, interviewed players and even watched from home, that sentiment has only grown. I’ve noticed again and again that care and community are key priorities for this league.

Of course, the PWHL is about offering a fierce high-level hockey product, but there’s an added value placed on connection that doesn’t seem as prevalent in the NHL.

For example, the PWHL stands alone as the only league that has both teams shake hands after every game. These handshake lines remind players and fans that respect, camaraderie and connection remain at the centre of sport, no matter the intensity of competition that takes the ice.

The PWHL exemplifies how sport can embody, uplift and convey Christian values in the way players treat each other and in the community that is born. Think of my moment of belonging in the press box, or the little girls and their enthusiastic signs – when amplified, these experiences of connection and transformation have an immense positive impact.