Legend That Wouldn’t Retire: Patrick Roy’s Historic Overtime Heroics
The crowd at the Ball Centre in Denver was electric, the kind of energy that buzzed through the air like static before a storm. It was Game 5 of the Western Conference semifinals, Avalanche versus the Jets, series tied 2–2. And somehow, impossibly, Patrick Roy—yes, that Patrick Roy—was not in a suit behind the bench. He was on the ice. In uniform. Skating.
At 59 years old.
It had begun as a publicity stunt. That’s what the skeptics had said. A joke, a PR gimmick. Roy had signed a one-day contract with the Avalanche, the team he had once backstopped to two Stanley Cups, the franchise he had helped build into a powerhouse in the early 2000s. But after weeks of skating in private, and after receiving full medical clearance, Roy had petitioned the league for eligibility.
And the league—hesitantly, historically—had said yes.
No one expected him to play more than a ceremonial shift. But Coach Bednar had other ideas. He slotted Roy as a fourth-line center, flanked by two young bruisers half his age. “Just to win some faceoffs,” he joked to the media before the game. No one was laughing after puck drop.
Because Roy still had it. Not the same ‘it’ that had made him a goaltending god. But a different ‘it’. A veteran poise. An on-ice presence. And a fire in his eyes that seemed to burn brighter than it had in his playing days.
He looked slower, sure. But he was strong. Smart. And mean in the corners.
He picked up an assist early in the second, feathering a gorgeous backhand pass from the half-wall to a streaking Artturi Lehkonen, who roofed it glove-side. Then, in the third, with the Avs down by one and time ticking away, Roy was left unmarked in the high slot during a 6-on-5. The puck found him, and he hammered a one-timer past Hellebuyck to tie it at four.
The building exploded. It wasn’t just nostalgia anymore—it was magic. The old warrior wasn’t just skating. He was producing.
Then came overtime.
The Avalanche pressed early, but Winnipeg weathered the storm. Roy, logging his longest shift of the night, found himself pinned in his own zone after a sloppy breakout attempt. He bent over, hands on knees, sweat pouring off his helmet. Everyone thought Bednar would call him off the ice. He didn’t.
Instead, Roy stripped the puck at the blue line, spun off a check, and somehow started a 2-on-1 with Cale Makar. The arena held its breath.
As he crossed the blue line, Roy deked left, slid the puck to Makar, then cut toward the net. Makar danced around a defender, then threaded a no-look pass back to Roy who, with shocking grace, went forehand–backhand and lifted the puck over a sprawling Hellebuyck.
Game over.
Series lead, Avalanche.
And history—rewritten.
Patrick Roy had just become the oldest player in NHL history to score a playoff overtime game-winning goal.
The broadcast booth fell silent for a second, just long enough for the moment to register. Then the numbers came flying in: 59 years, 78 days old. Roy had shattered Gordie Howe’s record for oldest playoff point-getter by more than a decade. And, with his three-point night, he joined an even shorter list of NHL immortals to ever tally that many in the playoffs past age 40.
“This is madness,” one commentator said. “Pure madness.”
Ovechkin had set the mark just last year. 38 years old. 152 playoff games before his first OT winner. That was supposed to be the last word on age-defying excellence.
Then came Roy, in his 23rd game—not as a goalie, but as a skater.
“People always asked me if I missed the game,” Roy said in the postgame interview, his voice hoarse, his grin unmistakable. “I used to say no. But tonight? Yeah. I missed this. I missed it so much.”
The league buzzed with debate. Was this real? Sustainable? Could Roy keep going? Could he really suit up for Game 6?
He didn’t wait long to answer. “Hell yeah,” he said. “I’ve got more in the tank.”
That line alone made headlines across North America.
Of course, critics called it gimmicky. They questioned the integrity of the league. But anyone who’d watched Roy’s performance knew better. This wasn’t just a freak show. This was one of hockey’s greatest minds adapting his skillset to defy time itself.
“Roy didn’t just look capable,” said analyst Kevin Bieksa. “He looked dangerous.”
Social media lit up with tributes and disbelief. Wayne Gretzky posted a video of himself laughing in disbelief, saying, “Well, I never thought I’d see that. Patrick Roy, playoff sniper. What’s next? Hasek on the power play?”
Across Quebec, fans held impromptu vigils, watching replays of the goal like it was the moon landing. Former teammates weighed in.
“He was always competitive,” said Joe Sakic. “But this? This is just… otherworldly.”
What had started as a single night of nostalgia had evolved into something mythical. A goaltending legend had returned—not to guard the crease, but to attack it. And in doing so, he’d made history not once, but twice: the oldest player to score a playoff OT goal, and the oldest to record three points in a postseason game.
And maybe, just maybe, the oldest player to show us all that passion doesn’t retire.
Not really.