Feel The Joy
Patrick Roy's persistent message has taken hold
The Islanders routed the Devils at home then took off for a 7-game journey that began with three points out of four in Nashville & Minnesota - two buildings that have not been kind to the Isles in recent years. Every point is critical as it always seems someone around them in the standings is collecting points as well. Sean & Arthur will discuss it all and also have the pleasure of chatting with Islanders President of Business Operations Kelly Cheeseman.
Good Morning, Islanders Country.
Sometimes you can tell what kind of season it’s going to be not by the standings, but by the way a team carries itself on a random night in January — how it reacts to adversity, how it celebrates the little things, how it looks on the bench when the game gets tight. With the New York Islanders, there’s been a looseness this year that feels intentional, not accidental. A sense that hockey, for all its pressure and consequence, is still allowed to be enjoyed.
That mindset traces directly back to Patrick Roy.
From the first days of training camp, Roy has been unapologetic about his message. Joy matters. Trust matters. Show up to the rink ready to play, not weighed down by the standings or the fear of failure. “Feel that joy,” Roy said back in September. “Trust each other. Focus on being our very best instead of focusing on winning all the time. If we are our very best, we’ll win games.”
It sounded philosophical. Almost counterintuitive in a league that lives on structure and pressure. But months later, it’s starting to feel prophetic.
Saturday night’s 4–3 overtime win in Minnesota was another reminder of what this team has become. Not flawless. Not dominant. But connected. No panic when things turned. No unraveling when momentum swung. Just a group that believes the next shift will be enough — because it usually has been.
That belief doesn’t shut off when the skates come off.
On an off day, the Islanders gathered at Anders Lee’s Minnesota home, pulled on whatever sweaters they felt like wearing, and spent hours playing pond hockey. No whistles. No drills. Just the game stripped down to why most of them fell in love with it in the first place.
Those moments don’t show up in box scores. But they show up late in games. In overtime. In belief. Roy didn’t sell happiness for happiness’ sake. He sold it as a competitive edge. So far, it’s paid off — not just in wins, but in something rarer: a season that feels genuinely fun to watch, and even more fun to play.
