For the second straight year, the Florida Panthers are playing the Edmonton Oilers for the Stanley Cup. I'm not convinced that we can see their futures by looking at their pasts, but I think it's worthwhile to refresh ourselves on how we got here, and why this will be the rare Cup matchup that comes with a history.
Who are these guys?
All the way back in 1996, the recently established Panthers franchise put together an underdog Cup Final run before getting swept by the Avalanche. For all intents and purposes, they disappeared from the NHL for the following two-and-a-half decades until GM Bill Zito constructed a contender that is starting to sniff around the D-word. They lost to Vegas in the Final in 2023, then returned with something to prove in 2024, establishing a reputation as bullies and bastards—the league's most miserable team to play against.
The Oilers were the It Team of the '80s, then understandably declined after Gretzky and then Messier departed. They fought to within one game of another championship in 2006, which Carolina swiped from them, and then entered a long stretch of futility until landing a savior in Connor McDavid. It's been a frustrating process, building around both the greatest player of his generation and another superstar in Leon Draisaitl, but the supporting cast finally came together to reach the Final last season, where they came face to face with their newfound Floridian foils.
What happened last year?
Three games into that series, the Panthers seemed to make a case for themselves as an all-time dominant champ. They won the first two by a combined score of 7-1, then went up 4-1 in Game 3 before hanging on for the win. The goalie matchup, Stuart Skinner vs. Sergei Bobrovsky, looked like a huge mismatch, and the intensity of the Panthers' pressure meant every Edmonton mistake had a price. With a 3-0 lead in the series, everyone was ready to crown the kitties.
And then the next three games looked like an entirely different series. The Oilers gave their home fans a fun night with an 8-1 win in Game 4—which, OK, call it a dead-cat bounce. In Sunrise for Game 5 they jumped out to an early lead and held on. Game 6 followed the same pattern—a slow start for Florida, then too little too late. Suddenly, the narratives had flipped—the Panthers looked too slow, too complacent, and the Oilers were the ones taking advantage of every opportunity their opponents were unfortunate enough to allow them.
In Game 7, the Panthers scored two goals, and Edmonton scored one. That's all there is to say about it. You could talk about the intensity of the Oilers' play, the way they drained their tank, or a chaotic third-period sequence where they almost tied it. But in the most stressful game imaginable, Florida beat them. And now we're here.
Does that mean Florida has the upper hand?
I've had nearly a whole week to think about this rematch, and I don't really know what to expect. Both teams play extraordinarily similar to last season's editions, with the Oilers relying on their speed and firepower to make up for Skinner's frequent off-nights, and the Cats forechecking their opponents straight to hell. But last year's Final was almost like two disparate, entirely self-contained series, so I don't think "styles make fights" carries much predictive heft here.
If you believe that history is bound to repeat itself, then by all means say the Panthers will win again. If you believe, as Marx quipped, that world-historic facts and personages appear first as tragedy, then as farce, I imagine you'd take Florida in a humiliating sweep, with Brad Marchand lifting the Conn Smythe. If you subscribe to that aphorism dubiously attributed to Mark Twain—“History doesn’t repeat itself, but it often rhymes”—then I guess you should bet on the Morida Lanthers.
That is extremely unhelpful, thank you.
The problem is, these are two very good teams, and it's easy to talk myself into either. I can pair off individual matchups in my mind and salivate: Connor McDavid, the best player in the world, vs. Aleksander Barkov, Mr. Selke. Leon Draisaitl vs. Sam Bennett, Evan Bouchard vs. Aaron Ekblad. I can ask myself challenging questions: Does the return of Mattias Ekholm make up for Zach Hyman's injury and absence? Does an almighty offense and a decent-at-best defense min-max an advantage over a team that's pretty dang strong at both? How much does the shift in home ice, to Edmonton this time around, change the dynamic—for Game 1, say, and perhaps a Game 7? I can wildly speculate about critical factors like Stuart Skinner's mental readiness or the Panthers' tendency to ease off the gas. I can call Matthew Tkachuk or Brad Marchand rude names. Corey Perry, too. None of this gets me any closer to picking a winner than would, like, haruspicy. Because games aren't played on paper; they're played by little men inside your TV set.
Only one thing's certain: This is the best Final matchup we could've hoped for. I'm very excited for the hockey to come. Ultimately, however, you should watch not because you or I or anyone else has a good sense of what might happen, but because we don't.
