Why Montrealers Are So Heartbroken over the P.K. Subban Trade

This article originally appeared on VICE Sports Canada.

Since June 29, there has been a distinctly different feeling in the atmosphere around Montreal. It's one of the few cities in North America where there are always people on the streets, no matter the time of day. That feature gives the city moods, in a way. When the Canadiens are eliminated from the playoffs, you can feel the heartbreak across the city.

That empty silence that envelops Montreal has loomed over the city since the Canadiens traded P.K. Subban. When the Habs are in the playoffs, there's always hope that the ghosts of the old Forum return and find a way to steal a 25th Stanley Cup, ending the longest drought in the history of the franchise. Much like that, Subban represented more than just a great hockey player, but a glance back in time for younger generations who only know the Canadiens as a plodding, mostly boring, over-reliant-on-goaltending, underdog.

It isn't spoken about much anymore, but in the early 2000s the Canadiens weren't selling out games. The mystique of yesteryear was gone, with a poor product on the ice, and it took a long time to build the fan base back up again. While the sellout streak started earlier, you couldn't find many people who actually believed the Canadiens could break the drought until around 2011, when Carey Price finally emerged for good, and a 21-year-old rookie forced his way from the third pairing to the first in half a season.

Subban's utter dominance through six years in a Canadiens jersey is well documented—second among all full-time defencemen in points over that time, first in playoff points per game, a Norris Trophy winner, and a dominant possession player. But more than that, Subban entrenched himself in the city. He surprised kids at hockey camps, he was a fixture at the children's hospital (and generous donor), and he constantly repped Montreal—from restaurants to fans, to the history of the team he played for.

In an era where Canadiens fans were questioning whether or not the team was still special, still different from the rest, P.K. Subban was a living reminder that they could be. Subban wasn't the Flying Frenchman the organization longed for, but in a way he was better, an outsider who came in and said with unbiased eyes that this city was a special place to be.

The emotional impact of Subban on the average fan was a confirmation that you were right to care so much about 10 guys skating around on an ice rink trying to put a rubber disk in a steel and mesh net, with two other guys trying to stop it. He was the light at the end of a tunnel that was longer than anyone thought was possible when they entered it in the fall of 1993. So for many, to have that taken away so unceremoniously was so much more than trading a star player, it was a betrayal.

Robyn Flynn, a producer at CJAD and host of her own weekly hockey show on TSN 690, was so angered by the trade that she has decided to cover up the Canadiens logo that graces her forearm. "I actually started to cry. It felt surreal to be rewarded for sticking by the team through the worst collapse in franchise history with a move like this," she told VICE Sports.

She feels that the Canadiens operate with a callous disregard for fans, knowing that the brand is big enough now that they don't lose much by losing fans. By continuing to live and die emotionally with an organization that acts this way, she says, "At a certain point, you start to feel dumb."

Fellow booster of Montreal Jay Baruchel echoed Robyn's sentiments in harsher terms. "It broke my heart. If they can do this to P.K. that means they can do it to anyone," the actor told VICE Sports. "And if that's the case, why am I watching? What's the fucking point of giving a shit? Why watch 82 games a year if this can happen?"

For Arune Singh of Marvel Comics and Syfy TV, the fact that Subban happens to be black adds another wrinkle to the situation. "As a visible minority born in Toronto who grew up a lifelong Habs fan, P.K. Subban was more than just a hockey player to me—he was a symbol of progress and hope in a sport that often prefers uniformity in all facets," he told VICE Sports.

"The class, character and excellence he displayed both on and off the ice epitomized the best of Montreal Canadiens history."

In a sport that has trouble growing outside its primarily white fan base, having a marketable superstar who kids of different backgrounds can see themselves in, playing in one of the biggest markets the sport has to offer is something truly special. Yet Arune has packed away his Habs jerseys, feeling the heart of the team he loved has been torn out.

That empty feeling goes beyond just attachment to a great hockey player, there is a feeling that this trade isn't just business, it's personal. Trading Subban for an older player who plays a simpler game, and while good, is nowhere close to his prime, feels to many like a rejection of what Subban represents as a player, and even as a person. Everything Subban does is dynamic, whether it's a deke around a defender or an engaging postgame interview.

While the Canadiens preach safe plays, Subban was often almost rebellious in his style, breaking the monotony of a system designed by his coaching staff where his teammates spend over half the game chasing the puck instead of carrying it. Michel Therrien often preaches that in order to succeed in the NHL, you have to take what teams give you and just work with that, yet Subban dared to force the issue, and make things happen instead.

That feeling of expecting something magic when the puck is on a player's stick has largely been absent from Montreal since Guy Lafleur's prime, with some flashes of excellence from Alex Kovalev sprinkled in to rekindle the imagination, before Subban burst onto the scene. And now it's gone again.

That heartbreak the city emanates after the Canadiens are eliminated from the playoffs is temporary, soon giving way to festival season, and the budding hope of a new season on the rise. But the wound left by the Subban trade doesn't look like it will be healing any time soon. Losing Subban feels to many like losing the real Montreal Canadiens, to be replaced by a brand name, soulless and uncaring.