There is a very definite method to my madness — some might call it a sickness — this spring.

I’m still cheering for all the players in my hockey playoff pool to score early and often, win games and make it to the next round. As much as I’d like to walk off with the $200 top prize (or half of it, anyway, given that my nine-year-old son, Alex, would be entitled to the other half) and the bragging rights that come with it, I’m focused on something much more important — getting a National Hockey League team back in Winnipeg.

The quickest way for that to become a reality, I figure, is for the Phoenix Coyotes — which were the Winnipeg Jets until the 1995-96 season — to flop in the playoffs. Thanks to the Detroit Red Wings, albeit in seven games, mission accomplished.

The biggest blow to Winnipeg’s hopes to land, or reland, an NHL team would have been if the Coyotes had made a lengthy run in the playoffs or, God forbid, actually won the Stanley Cup. The temporary euphoria that had existed in the final few weeks of the season and into the playoffs could have been cemented with season ticket sales for next year, which could have temporarily demonstrated that the team was viable in a place where the locals prefer their ice in their drinks.

The Jets rumour mill began swirling before the Vancouver Olympics. There was talk of an announcement that the Coyotes would be moving back to Winnipeg. Hockey fans here in Winnipeg desperately want an NHL team again, even though they know it’s going to be expensive. They also think it might — or will — happen, despite the league’s back-breaking efforts to keep the team in Arizona and avoid admitting that its Sunbelt expansion has failed in any way.

Now, we’re all following the never-ending saga over the league’s flailing bids to keep the Coyotes in Glendale, Ariz. — almost as much as we track the nightly box scores. Glendale city council recently authorized the city manager to negotiate a deal with the NHL to satisfy the conditions the league has demanded, including up to US$25 million to cover potential losses, in order to prevent the NHL from relocating the team.

The bid for the Coyotes from Chicago White Sox owner Jerry Reinsdorf is effectively dead — at least, for now — and the NHL’s hopes rest on a group of investors who have little of their own money to put up and whose offer proposes playing one-eighth of the Coyotes’ home games in Saskatoon.

If they all fail, the NHL has publicly stated that its first choice after that would be Winnipeg. And what’s not to like? Not only do we have a state-of-the-art building, the MTS Centre, which seats more than 15,000, but we are a hockey city with a vastly improved economy since 1996, which was when the Jets flew south. The potential ownership group, the same people that own the American Hockey League’s Manitoba Moose, include the Chipman family and their business partner, David Thomson. The former, while well-to-do, thanks to a diversified portfolio that includes more than a dozen automobile dealers and a big real estate division, are mere paupers compared to Thomson, who heads up Canada’s wealthiest family. Some estimates put the Thomson’s net worth at $21.99 billion. Nobody else is even close.

Unlike Waterloo, Ont.-based Research in Motion Ltd. founder Jim Balsillie, whose maverick ownership quest last year was thwarted by the NHL and its commissioner, Gary Bettman, the Chipmans and Thomson have followed the league’s procedures to a T. Some sources even say the league “loves” Chipman.

Of course, not everybody is in favour of the NHL returning to Winnipeg. They’re the same vocal minority who were against the demolition of the old Eaton’s building. That, of course, paved the way for the construction of the MTS Centre, the downtown arena widely credited with being one of the saviours of downtown Winnipeg. But most of us are ready to buy our season tickets. Just say the word. IE