When the Utah Mammoth burst onto the NHL scene and clinched a playoff spot in just their second season, it was a triumph for their new fan base. But for those left behind in the desert, the story is more complicated. The franchise that once called Arizona home—the Coyotes—has a new name, a new city 600 miles away, and a new identity. Yet, for many loyal fans in Phoenix, the emotional ties remain strong.
"I'm a hockey fan and I've been cheering for them; most of those guys, that team, that organization were here," says Maricopa County Supervisor Tom Galvin. "But in many ways, I feel disconnected from them. They're playing in Utah, they have Utah fans, they play in a Utah arena." Galvin isn't just reminiscing—he's actively working to bring NHL hockey back to the Phoenix area.
After the Coyotes relocated to Utah in 2024, Galvin helped form an advisory committee dedicated to reviving professional hockey in Arizona. The committee includes former Olympian Lyndsey Fry, a Phoenix-area native who has been a driving force in youth hockey through various programs. Alongside her is Andrea Doan, whose family is synonymous with Coyotes history: her husband, Shane, was the team's longtime captain, and her son, Josh, began his NHL career with the franchise. Together, they're exploring potential ownership groups and arena sites for a future NHL expansion team.
The league itself is paying attention. NHL Commissioner Gary Bettman has repeatedly stated that the league would welcome a franchise back in Arizona—and notably, the league still owns the Coyotes name. But the path forward requires the right pieces: a prime arena location and a deep-pocketed owner ready to invest.
"We have to find a good and appropriate location for an arena—that has been an issue bedeviling the Coyotes for the better part of 25 years—and we need a billionaire to put up money to buy the team," Galvin explains. "So my joke is, if you know a billionaire, please let me know because there's not that many around."
For now, Arizona fans are left in a unique limbo: cheering for the players they once called their own, while hoping the desert will one day host NHL hockey again. It's a testament to the enduring power of the sport—and the jerseys that fans still wear with pride.