He attended one playoff game in what he called the "glory years" - that franchise-defining run of 13 seasons after joining the NHL in 1979. What he remembers is how loud it was.

"There was just this continuous, continuous noise," the 40-year-old recalls. "It was super overwhelming as a 9-year-old. People stood for two-thirds of the game."

The Oilers were one of four teams to join the NHL from the WHA for the 1979-80 season, and they made an immediate impact. Bolstered by a kid phenom by the name of Wayne Gretzky - who, legend has it, was acquired in a backgammon game - they were the lowest playoff seed in their first season but truly announced themselves the next year by taking down a legendary but aging Montreal Canadiens team in the first round.

They didn't have to wait long to become legends in their own right: Between 1983-90 they appeared in six Stanley Cup Finals, winning five. They even managed to lock down a Cup without Gretzky, who had been sent to the Los Angeles Kings in one of the most stunning deals in sports history.

Of course, shortly thereafter, the dark ages fell upon the Edmonton faithful as their team struggled to reach those heights again. The Oilers have not hoisted the Cup in 32 years. Other than a flash of brilliance in 2006 when they made it to Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Final, they've otherwise existed in what appeared to be a perpetual state of rebuilding. For those just slightly younger than Chris Davies, the "glory days" were little more than oral legends, highlight clips, and jersey retirement ceremonies.

"My dad was an Oilers fan growing up, and I remember him talking about Gretzky and Messier, all those guys. All those years (since), it felt like maybe we'd be at the bottom forever," lifelong fan Tyler Melanson, 28, said.

Perhaps as a sign of acceptance, the city meekly scrubbed the audacious "City of Champions" slogan from its branding in 2017. But help was on the way. A savior had arrived in Canada's gateway to the North. McJesus was drafted first overall by the Oilers in 2015, and with him came the hope of a new era.

Today's youngest Oilers fans have been spared the lifetime of angst that their millennial parents have endured. The only captain they've ever known is Connor McDavid, who seems to do something special every time he steps on the ice. With him, the once faraway dream of bringing the Cup back to Edmonton seems within the realm of possibility.

Chris Davies' 10-year-old son Sam, a self-proclaimed Oilers megafan, remembers well the first game he fell in love with the team. It was May 6, 2022, Game 3 of the Oilers-Kings Round 1 matchup. He didn't even watch it. His teachers provided updates during a school event. But the excitement of an 8-2 Oilers victory from the people around him left an unshakeable mark.

"McDavid is my favorite Oiler," Sam said. "Just, generally, the way he plays - I like how he plays a level of hockey above everyone else."

After watching McDavid in last year's playoffs, Sam begged his dad to let him sign up for youth hockey. "I used to think my goal was to be like McDavid. Now that I see just how good he is, I can see how hard that will be," Sam said. He became a goalie.

Winning the Hart Trophy as MVP twice and the Art Ross Trophy four times in his first seven years were merely the appetizer before the main McDavid show. This season, he ascended to hockey's throne room, becoming the first Oilers player since Gretzky to break 140 points. The last time someone approached a rate of two points per game was when the Pittsburgh Penguins' Mario Lemieux recorded 2.3 per game (161 points in 70 contests) in 1996. McDavid is at 1.9 with six games left.

Over the last four years, Matt Laird has seen a lot of those points in person - he's only missed about four home games in his role as bandleader and sousaphone player for the Oilers Drum and Brass Crew. Perched with his band in the upper deck of Rogers Place, he has a unique gauge on the crowd.

On the nights when McDavid dazzles, the crowd pulses. "You can feel the energy is ... almost like a tangible thing," he said. Laird's band will often perform on the concourse during period breaks. "You can actually feel the floor in Ford Hall shaking when everyone's in there. It's pretty cool, but also a little scary."

McDavid's career-high 61 goals and 83 assists through 76 games are certainly giving fans something legitimate to get excited about. And some of those goals are notched in such exquisite fashion that they push the crowd to an even more feverish climax. His 60th goal was one such accomplishment, earned in overtime against the Arizona Coyotes while the Oilers are locked in a heated search for points down the stretch.

"That was my favorite goal that I've ever seen him score," Laird says. "Such an amazing pass from Draisaitl. He strips the goalie. Misses the net on his own accord. Then Draisaitl fights it back off the boards and another insane pass to Connor who does the exact same move. He strips the goalie again. On the same move. And puts it in the net. I had a tough time sleeping that night because I was electric."

After that goal, even McDavid's right-hand man had to acknowledge there's something different about him. "Crazy to try that same move again and score on them the second time, but that's just what he does, I guess," Draisaitl said. "It's pretty hard to score in this league. To score 60 in a season and still have 10 games to go is pretty remarkable. He's just a special player."

Even the characteristically understated McDavid himself admitted that goal was pretty cool.

"I felt like I was kind of pressing for the 60th all night. At this point, not to bury that one in ... I couldn't get many better looks than that. Not every day you get two breakaways back-to-back like that. Just ridiculous," McDavid said.

Surrounded by his mere mortal peers, some nights McDavid looks like a man among boys. Sam compared his own experiences on the ice playing with his younger brother to describe it. "He's playing at a level of hockey above everyone else. He just needs a little bit more competition. He just needs to play with other people at his level."

It's not just the atmosphere inside Rogers Place that's building, the crowd's momentum is overflowing into nearby bars. "I think people recognize that they're watching - or potentially watching - history happen," said Taylor Iwaasa, owner and operator of popular downtown Edmonton hotspot Greta. "Milestones. Records. The things (McDavid) does on the ice. I think people are in awe of that part of it aside from the records. We're going into another playoff season with a lot of high hopes, and I definitely see a lot of rejuvenation with people starting to come out."

But behind all the excitement lurks anxiety. It's not just the 32 years of Cup futility. Oilers fans recognized McDavid's rare talent from the outset. But for the last seven years, the organization has struggled to surround him with the right pieces to make a deep playoff run. McDavid and Draisaitl can't accomplish the feat on their own. Whether it be goaltending, lack of scoring depth, or defensive holes, something has always scuttled the team's chances. Meanwhile, the clock is ticking. Not only will McDavid not be young forever, he's already more than halfway through his eight-year deal.

Chris Davies said it like a grizzled vet: "Part of my heart does not want to be ripped out again."

Melanson, with the realism of an Oilers fan who has lived through the dark times, said: "I feel like it's a bit of holding our breath." He then guessed that even McDavid himself might say something akin to, "It's great to do well, but if he doesn't win a Cup - was it worth it?"

Fans can be thrilled with McDavid's personal accomplishments and the opportunity to see one of the most spectacular seasons in more than a century of NHL hockey. But, ultimately, they want the same thing their McJesus does.

"At the end of the day, (the milestones) are all just a number. ... Obviously we've got a lot of work left this year," McDavid said.

Jolene Latimer is a video producer and feature writer for theScore.

Copyright © 2023 Score Media Ventures Inc. All rights reserved. Certain content reproduced under license.

EDMONTON - For nearly 20 years, Jim Cuddy's made an annual tradition out of what many have dreamed of but few will experience: he laces up his skates and steps onto the ice with the who's who of the hockey world.

The frontman for legendary Canadian country rock band Blue Rodeo has organized a charity game since 2004 called the JUNO Cup, which pits musicians against hockey's elite, including Paul Coffey, Sarah Nurse, and Brad Dalgarno. As one of the rare annual events that brings together elite performers from such different public spheres, it shows both sides the similarities in their careers.

"The greatest part is the overlap of the disciplines - how much discipline it takes to do it, and how effortlessly you have to make it seem," said Cuddy, who's racked up 15 platinum and gold albums in Canada since his band formed in 1984.

Cuddy's aware that a charity game doesn't bring out the athletic best in the hockey players, and even at half strength, there's a staggering gulf between the pros and his team of musicians.

"The difference between Paul Coffey and even the most inspired amateur - there is no connection," Cuddy says.

It was this vast difference that prompted Cuddy to one day ask Coffey just why he was so much faster than anyone else - what made him great?

"He gave a little explanation, but it wasn't much of an explanation," Cuddy said. "It was just something he knew how to do naturally."

Cuddy said he's had similar conversations with some of the best musicians he knows.

"If you ask a lot of musicians how they do what they do, they couldn't really tell you," he said.

Cuddy's been amazed over the years at the mutual fascination between hockey players and musicians. It might be because they both have a profession, lifestyle, and identity built on some intangible talent that sets them apart from the general public.

"The thing I've found the most interesting is how much the hockey players admire musicians and how much the musicians only want to hear about hockey," he said.

As part of the annual event, Cuddy hosts a private jam session for musicians and athletes.

"There's the same gulf between their (athletes') campfire skills and the professional musicians in the room," he said, although he did note that Delgarno can do a decent rendition of "The Fisherman's Blues."

"I'm a passionate guitar player, so this weekend and getting to know musicians, it's like my fantasy camp," said Delgarno, who spent 10 years playing for the New York Islanders before retiring in 1996.

Cuddy added: "When I sing that song around Jim and the boys, they do the harmony and backups."

For Delgarno, music provided an escape that sports couldn't offer him.

"A lot of years, difficult years in the NHL, it saved me in terms of having a place or helping me get through some stuff," he said.

While both disciplines require a certain amount of technical mastery on the path to greatness, turning pro in either discipline can also make for some similar challenges.

"When we do concerts, when we listen to music, it's a novel experience for us," retired NHL goalie Ben Scrivens said. "But musicians are kind of washing, rinsing, and repeating. It's largely the same set list night after night.

"That's really not too different from what my lifestyle was like in the NHL. You go on the road for four games, you're trying to execute the same game plan night after night. It can feel a bit like "Groundhog Day," especially on Game 62."

But during each night, whether it's on ice or on stage, Scrivens says the pressure is on for both groups to show up and be ready to perform.

"The person who's watching that night, that might be their only chance to see you," he said.

But with all the similarities, there's one major difference that Cuddy likes to point out every year to his hockey friends.

"I always bug my NHL friends by saying, ‘You happened to pick the trade that you had to stop by the time you're 40. Look at Willie Nelson. We can keep going until we're 90. You picked the wrong door,'" he said.

Jolene Latimer is a feature writer and video producer for theScore.

Copyright © 2023 Score Media Ventures Inc. All rights reserved. Certain content reproduced under license.

Some things get easier with age, but for Sam Gagner, trade deadlines aren't one of them. At 33 years old, he's a 16-season NHL veteran with more than 1,000 games played. But just three years ago he navigated one of his biggest surprises yet.

After two stints and 542 regular-season appearances with the Oilers, he was on the brink of making the playoffs with the team for the first time. Instead - boom - he was traded at the deadline to the Detroit Red Wings, the worst team in the league that season by a considerable margin. Edmonton cleared cap space by trading Gagner and 2020 and 2021 second-round picks for two players who’d dressed for a total of 13 NHL games, including playoffs.

"It was really difficult," Gagner said. "I was in and out of the lineup at that point but still felt like I could work my way into things come playoff time and we were a team that was going to make the playoffs. I had never played a playoff game as an Oiler. It was something I was really excited for. Then you get the call on deadline day and you're getting sent to a non-playoff team, away from your family. It was a difficult thing to process."

Difficult, maybe, but for Gagner it was nothing new. The trade deadline, which closed Friday, has played a part in Gagner's life since childhood. His father, Dave Gagner, played 15 seasons in the NHL for seven teams. He still remembers when his dad was traded from Toronto to Calgary in the summer of 1996. Gagner was 7 years old and his mom had one rule: He couldn't tell the kids at school his dad played for the Flames.

"She wanted me to make friends without using that - even if it took longer," he said.

After returning home from school each day, Gagner's mom would ask if he was making new friends.

"Sort of," he’d reply noncommittally, because breaking into elementary school friend groups wasn't an easy feat.

Then one day, Gagner arrived home flanked by a throng of buddies adorned in Flames gear.

He made eye contact with his mom.

"You told them, didn't you?" she asked.

He was forced to admit he played his ace.

Despite the challenges moving around the NHL might have dealt him as a youngster, Gagner remembers one upside: it bonded his family.

"My sisters and I and my parents are really close because that's your entire unit, that's who you move around with." It's a closeness he's experiencing again as a husband and father. "I feel the same thing with my wife and my kids now, moving around to all these different places. You just become really close to your immediate family."

Gagner and his wife got their first test of that days before their 2014 wedding when he was traded twice in one day - first to Tampa Bay and then to Phoenix.

"Obviously there's the wedding you're preparing for - that's a major event in your life. There's a lot of excitement around that. Then, the trade comes and you're trying to figure out the logistics of your move and say goodbye to teammates."

Even though Gagner knew from experience that getting traded was part of the gig, he wasn't ready for it when it happened to him.

"You know what you're getting into and you can wrap your head around it, but I still feel like I wasn't fully prepared for it. It's a tough business that way and you don't have control over so many things in your life. I think that's what you learn as you go: You kind of have to let go of control."

Gagner said Edmonton felt like home, but despite the tough goodbyes he's always been able to find the positives in getting traded.

"There's excitement in moving to a new city," he said. Even his surprise move to Detroit in 2020 was put to good use by the right winger, whose superpower has turned out to be his ability to adjust his game as the league changes around him.

"I was able to add different elements to my game. I became a pretty good part of our penalty killing there, which I didn't previously have an opportunity to do in the NHL."

That approach has given Gagner the longevity to break into the top 10% on the NHL's career games-played list after signing with Winnipeg this season. But fatherhood changed things yet again. Gagner is now dad to three children - his oldest son is about the same age Gagner was at the time he used his dad's day job as a flex to make friends in Calgary. With each move, he considers the impact on the family he's building.

"It's gotten harder. My oldest son is now in Grade 2 and has friends at school and has become a part of the community, so it's always more difficult," he said.

Knowing what he now does about a lifetime in the NHL, if he could tell his younger self one thing, it'd be to welcome the adversity.

"I think as my career has gone on, I've started to understand that the adversity I've gone through has always led to greater things. As you're going through that it's hard to think of it that way but adversity's a great teacher. It teaches you a lot about yourself. If you're able to find a solution it's a great feeling and it helps you become a better person. Some of the trades that are unexpected - you just have to learn to adapt. As you go through life, those experiences are only going to help you become better."

Jolene Latimer is a feature writer and video producer at theScore.

Copyright © 2023 Score Media Ventures Inc. All rights reserved. Certain content reproduced under license.