My Washington Capitals Crisis

When your NHL team’s star becomes a symbol of a dictator.

It's NHL playoff season, and for most of my life, that has meant one thing: All in for the Washington Capitals.

I've been a die-hard fan through heartbreak, miracles, rebuilds, and the long wait for redemption. Like so many loyal Caps fans, I celebrated the night they finally lifted the Stanley Cup in 2018. I even ran out of the White House to catch the victory parade in D.C., ecstatic to get a glimpse of the Cup up close when it went on public display. I took this photo as they rode past, proudly wearing my own Caps jersey. It was more than just a sports victory, it was a moment of pride, community, and long-awaited joy for our city.

But this year, something’s different. This year, my conscience is louder than my loyalty. Because the face of the franchise, Alexander Ovechkin, is still very much a face of Vladimir Putin.

Let’s be honest: Ovechkin isn’t just a Russian player who happens to be from Moscow. He’s a vocal supporter of Putin, even after years of war crimes, political assassinations, and the brutal invasion of Ukraine. He posed with Putin. (It remains as his instagram profile picture.) In 2017, he launched the “PutinTeam” social media campaign, encouraging Russian athletes and celebrities to publicly back the regime ahead of the 2018 presidential election. Not once has he condemned Russia’s aggression, not when missiles rained down on Kyiv, not when apartment buildings collapsed on families, not even when other athletes risked their careers by speaking out. That contradiction is hard to stomach.

Recently, I found myself sitting in a restaurant as the Caps game played on a screen overhead. Ovechkin scored. He had set a new NHL goal record. The place erupted in applause. I wanted to join in, too. Old reflexes kicked in. But I didn’t. I couldn’t.

The Moscow Times later reported that the Kremlin had claimed Ovechkin’s NHL record as a propaganda victory, a tool for Putin’s narrative, portraying Russian greatness as the government wages war and crushes dissent. It wasn’t merely a goal. In the eyes of Moscow, it was state-sponsored symbolism. And here we are in the U.S., watching it happen in real-time, barely mentioning it and celebrating, clapping, business as usual, while Trump is back in the White House and closer to Russia than ever before.

It’s surreal. And it’s dangerous.

As someone who’s spent a career in national security, I don’t have the luxury of pretending this is just sports. Not when authoritarian regimes exploit fame and silence to launder their image. Not when freedom is on the line, both abroad and here at home.

While our own country struggles under the weight of Trumpism 2.0, our neighbors to the north recently showed what accountability and democratic principles can still look like. The recent Canadian election resulted in a liberal victory. The people chose democracy over the right-wing conservative movement that mirrored MAGA tactics and echoed the same anti-immigrant, anti-democratic rhetoric.

Meanwhile, right-wing voices here keep mocking our northern neighbor, tossing around the “51st state” jokes. (Is it really a joke? Not quite. Trump always projects and says what he wants to do next…) But here’s the truth: while we’re slipping deeper into authoritarianism, Canadians took a position of principle. And I respect that.

So maybe it’s time I make a choice, too, even if it means stepping away from the team I’ve loved for decades.

Perhaps I'll start rooting for a team that reflects not only the spirit of hockey but the values I still believe in. Like the Winnipeg Jets, who honored Ukrainian refugees and supported a community that knows the true cost of silence. Or the Ottawa Senators, who played the Ukrainian national anthem before every home game in 2022. Their late owner, Eugene Melnyk, of Ukrainian descent, called the invasion "unspeakable and unacceptable in a civilized world." They raised funds, collected donations, and stood publicly in solidarity. I might consider supporting the Montreal Canadiens, who hosted a Ukrainian youth hockey team at the Bell Centre, displaced kids, honored and embraced by the crowd in a city that reminded us what sportsmanship and humanity can still look like.

This isn’t about disregarding teams in my own country. I happen to have a soft spot right now for these Canadian franchises, especially as we watch this administration resort to bullying across our northern border. I may always carry the heartbreak of a Caps fan. But I won’t carry the burden of complicity. Not in this game. Not at this moment. Not when the stakes are this high.

Because let’s be honest, Alex Ovechkin isn’t merely a hockey player. He’s a Putin asset. Whether he intended to be or not, that’s what he is now. A tool of propaganda. A symbol exploited by a regime waging war on democracy. And we’re supposed to celebrate him?

Some say Ovechkin is in a tough spot. That he’s worried about his family back home. That he doesn’t have a choice. I get that. Here's a thought: bring your family to the United States. Were you trying to do that? Or maybe, just maybe, you know they wouldn’t be safe here either, because you’re fully aware of the Trump regime’s closeness with the Kremlin. And if that’s the truth behind the silence, then it’s even more damning.

Ovechkin lives in our country. The United States gave him a platform, a fan base, a fortune. But when Putin inevitably does more harm to Americans, when the full cost of this alliance becomes undeniable, will he be supporting us? From the stands? When we’re hurting? Will he think about the country that rooted for him, made him millions, embraced him even as he stood by a dictator? I’m pretty sure we already know what side he’d be on. And it’s not ours.

Will his fans here in the United States still feel proud they cheered him on? Will they be glad they looked the other way while he stood with Putin, while Trump cozied up to the same regime? What happens when the cruelty they applauded turns on them, on their freedoms, their families, their safety? Will they still be clapping from the sidelines? Or will they finally realize that loyalty to power doesn’t protect you, it uses you. And when it’s done, it discards you.

So what would you do? Is it just a game? Is it only a sport? Or is it finally time to choose sides, in the arena? What team would you root for when your loyalty collides with your convictions?

For me, the answer is becoming clearer with every goal celebrated in Moscow.

Until next time,

Olivia