{"id":819035,"date":"2026-07-22T17:25:13","date_gmt":"2026-07-22T17:25:13","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/ca\/819035\/"},"modified":"2026-07-22T17:25:13","modified_gmt":"2026-07-22T17:25:13","slug":"looking-for-knicks-hats-in-montreal","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/ca\/819035\/","title":{"rendered":"Looking for Knicks Hats in Montr\u00e9al"},"content":{"rendered":"

Last week, your faithful Posting & Toasting<\/a> correspondent traveled abroad. Maybe you were home eating sensibly, reading about the Eastern Conference loading up with talent, and worrying about the Knicks\u2019 chances of a repeat. I was gorging on carbohydrates, falling for a new city, and exploring sports fandom north of the border.<\/p>\n

This was my first visit to Canada, and our quartet (including an eight-year-old, a wife, and a sister-in-law) drove to Montr\u00e9al. It\u2019s a lovely city on an island at the confluence of the Saint Lawrence and Ottawa Rivers. Besides terrific food, world-class galleries, and gorgeous architecture, Montr\u00e9al has cool street names, like Rue Mayonnaise and Rue McClanahan. The sights of Old Montr\u00e9al evoke Paris, while intermittent sewer smells remind one of NYC\u2019s more piquant corners. There is one thing this northern jewel conspicuously lacks, however.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

On our first full day, as our party explored the streets and rode the Metro, an odd fact revealed itself. Aside from a few stylish soccer kits and one Mets cap (worn by a sad-eyed tourist1), I saw almost no sports apparel.<\/p>\n

The realization was so eerie I half-expected Rod Serling to emerge from a cobblestone street (still smoking, since the habit is less verboten here). Wherever I travel in the U.S., there\u2019s Knicks merch everywhere\u2014hats, shirts, bumper stickers, official and counterfeit. Not so in Canadaland. Had they not heard about New York ending a five-decade drought? Are there no bandwagoners in Montr\u00e9al? From what I could tell, they are too cool for all that.<\/p>\n

Well, I thought, if not the Knicks, what about Canadian teams? I expected at least a Raptors hat as a token of national pride. But nyet! The distance from Toronto to Montr\u00e9al is around 550 kilometers, which is evidently too far for fandom to travel. With this kind of (un)enthusiasm for sports, I see why the Expos fled.<\/p>\n

Even my family noticed. On Day Two, young Rowan clutched my arm and said, \u201cThere goes a New York hat.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cKnicks?\u201d I asked\u2014as usual, a step late in noticing (just ask my wife, ba-dump).<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d he said, with a note of disappointment. \u201cIt just said New York.\u201d<\/p>\n

On Tuesday alone, I logged nearly 20,000 steps and rode the Metro for hours, yet still saw nothing Knicks-related. No sports apparel at all. Briefly, I thought one elderly man in a handsome stone doorway was answering my Knicks hat with the Jalen Brunson hand-over-the-face celly. Alas, he was just stifling a yawn. Also, he may have been insulting me. No one does passive-aggressiveness like the pseudo-French.<\/p>\n

When I mentioned the lack of sports apparel to my wife, she responded, \u201cThey dress like grown-ups here.\u201d Perhaps maturity is one reason why she chose this destination. I had voted for Six Flags.<\/p>\n

Upon arriving, we dropped our bags at the AirB&B and immediately went hunting for food. We landed at Lafayette, a nearby diner, and ordered Greek fare. With the plates came both ketchup and mayo packets. After a confused moment, a Pulp Fiction lightbulb illuminated above my head. \u201cWhen in Rome!\u201d I declared, gustily drowning my fries in mayonnaise while my companions made retching noises.<\/p>\n

The second night, we ventured toward a Portuguese restaurant and tried to outrun a dark, impending storm. A Quinta was packed, having closed its outdoor seating, so we called an audible. Our group lacked my enthusiasm for a visible poutine2 spot, so we entered a Mexican place while the storm nipped at our heels.<\/p>\n

To my delight, the staff spoke neither French nor English, giving me a chance to practice caveman Spanish. We were the only customers in this homey space and got full attention. I loved the quesabirria, and, as we left, my sister-in-law whispered, \u201cUhh, I think we were just in someone\u2019s living room.\u201d What welcoming people these Montr\u00e9alers are.<\/p>\n

On Day Three, we hit Rue Mount Royal and rolled the dice on a bar for lunch. Of course, I mowed through the best beef au jus of my life, because: Montr\u00e9al!<\/p>\n

\"Montr\u00e9al,<\/a><\/p>\n

Montr\u00e9al, Qu\u00e9bec, Canada, January 6, 2016. \u2014 St-Viateur Bagel is a famous Montreal-style bagel bakery located in the neighbourhood of Mile End in the borough of Le Plateau Mont-Royal. (Photo by Thierry Tronnel\/Corbis via Getty Images) Corbis via Getty Images<\/p>\n

We also came to sample the city\u2019s famous bagels, which are distinctly smaller, denser, slightly sweeter, and baked in wood-fired ovens. The renowned St-Viateur Bagel had a long queue, but we found another bagel shop on the next corner. And yes, the bagels were d\u00e9licieux.<\/p>\n

While at BBagels (stutter theirs), I asked the counterman about basketball. Had he ever heard of the sport? Did he know what a Knickerbocker is? His polite, muted nodding masked a total language barrier. When my wife\u2019s order was ready, he cheerfully called out, \u201cJim!\u201d<\/p>\n

All the walking helped offset my diet of Canadian health food: poutine, weirdly delightful bagels, and rich, buttery pastries. I didn\u2019t lose weight, but didn\u2019t gain any either. For me, that\u2019s a win. Besides, I need to stay at least in Raymond Felton shape with Knicks training camp starting soon.<\/p>\n

Top of my wife\u2019s to-see list was the Notre-Dame Basilica. Our walk there showcased Montr\u00e9al\u2019s artistic spirit: every detail, from stonework and benches to fountains and even modern office buildings, had a charming je ne sais quoi. By the time we arrived, Jen was on her phone browsing local apartments and putting our Binghamton home up for sale. I obliviously rubbernecked, still hunting for sports logos.<\/p>\n

\"Notre-Dame<\/a><\/p>\n

Notre-Dame Cathedral is in Ottawa, Canada, on September 10, 2025. (Photo by Domenico Cippitelli\/NurPhoto via Getty Images) NurPhoto via Getty Images<\/p>\n

The Basilica itself is a marvel of beauty and opulence. As we exited, however, we encountered a shirtless man lying motionless on the sidewalk. He and the many others like him were a stark reminder that homelessness is an issue everywhere. Most pedestrians stepped around him, but my eye caught the tattoo of Christ\u2019s face on his bare back. The bitter irony struck me: I wondered whether Jesus would spend his afternoon chilling in the air-conditioned temple or out here ministering to the sun-baked poor?<\/p>\n

That evening, a man on the sidewalk asked us for something to eat. Without hesitation, Rowan remembered our Mexican leftovers, which we retrieved from the apartment and delivered to the hungry stranger. Seems like the kid\u2019s on the right track.<\/p>\n

Per municipal law, no skyscraper in Montr\u00e9al can exceed the height of Mount Royal (764 feet). This keeps the mountain visible from most of the city. We took in the view from La Grande Roue de Montr\u00e9al, the tallest Ferris wheel in Canada. The enclosed, climate-controlled cars offer breathtaking vistas, but a word of warning: some nervous riders won\u2019t appreciate your attempt to get the car swinging \u2018for fun.\u2019 Party poopers.<\/p>\n

On the way to the Wheel, I saw a Nike shirt, a Spiderman hat, and still . . . no Knicks! Adam Silver needs to hear about this.2<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

\u201cWas there litter?\u201d you ask. Surprisingly little! At the beach at Cap-Saint-Jacques Nature Park, Rowan unearthed a few French cigarette butts from the sand, and we saw occasional items of trash throughout the city, but \u2018twas minor compared to home. Even the graffiti was polite, e.g., the faded scrawl that read, \u201cTrudeau is a jerk!\u201d They must really have a temper in the North.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd crime,\u201d you ask, \u201care the streets safe?\u201d Get a load of this. At one misting park on Rue Mt. Royal, a man plugged his iPhone into a public outlet\u2026and walked away. That\u2019s not even safe in my living room, where my 18-year-old will pilfer your charger.<\/p>\n

While this trusting guy admired an unleashed chocolate lab leaping through the water jets, I almost stole the phone to teach a lesson. But it was I who learned a lesson: safe metropolitan places still exist. (Besides, between the two therapists traveling with me and my kid the Good Samaritan, someone would have ratted me out for taking the phone.)<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

The Case of the Missing Jerseys <\/p>\n

On our trip, someone in my party needed to pee or poop exactly every 23 minutes. We could have all gone at the same stop, but no\u2014we were dogs marking our way through the city. Good thing Canada has plenty of trees to replenish its toilet paper supply.<\/p>\n

At one caf\u00e9 where we stopped for yet another bathroom break, I asked the barista about the lack of sportswear. She shrugged.<\/p>\n

\u201cBranded clothes are less of an everyday uniform here than in U.S. cities,\u201d she said. \u201cWe wear more neutral clothing, local designers, and vintage pieces than logo-heavy stuff.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt seems very European-influenced,\u201d I said, thinking that sounded smart.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe like to be stylish\u2014leather jackets, denim, coordinated outfits, those sorts of things.\u201d She smiled. \u201cWe\u2019re chic!\u201d<\/p>\n

I asked whether she followed the NBA. She shook her head, then struck up a conversation with Jen about local thrift-stores. I drifted to the front window and stared at the passersby like a crazy person.<\/p>\n

On our last day, Rowan asked for one more ride on the Metro. I happily obliged. At Papineau station, we spotted a young man wearing a crisp black Yankees cap backward. I motioned to it.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, Aaron Judge, eh?\u201d<\/p>\n

He returned a vacant stare, and I realized he wasn\u2019t a fan. The cap simply fit the fit.<\/p>\n

\"MONTREAL,<\/a><\/p>\n

MONTREAL, CANADA \u2013 JUNE 9: Stanley Cup Most Valuable Player Patrick Roy of the Montreal Canadiens holds the cup over his head after Montreal defeated the Los Angeles Kings 4-1 09 June 1993. (Photo credit should read MONTREAL GAZETTE\/AFP via Getty Images) AFP via Getty Images<\/p>\n

The NHL\u2019s Montr\u00e9al Canadiens play downtown at the Bell Centre. I drove past just to cross it off my list. In the vicinity, you might expect to find an abundance of the Canadiens logo, with its large letter \u201cC\u201d around a smaller letter \u201cH\u201d. Nyet! Only once, on the third day, did I spy the emblem on a t-shirt.<\/p>\n

We know Montr\u00e9al has passionate Canadiens fans. It\u2019s a historic franchise with massive cultural weight in Quebec. The single Habs3 shirt might reflect the timing (it is the off-season), but, geez, you\u2019d expect a little more evidence of affection in the street. I guess I was looking for proof that these people care about the same thing I do: namely, my team. A little relieved, it dawned on me that the Habs fans might still be hungover from the Finals loss to Carolina. If the Knicks had lost to the Spurs, I\u2019d still be sick about it, too.<\/p>\n

Finally, as we departed town, I saw a brand new Blue Jays t-shirt on a child who could have been Dave Stieb\u2019s grandson. The kid was far too young to have seen George Bell or Tony Fernandez play. The shirt still counts, I suppose, bringing my team logo count up to . . . three? Four?<\/p>\n

While we were away, I felt a twinge of guilt hearing about the wildfire smoke blanketing parts of the northeastern U.S.. In Montr\u00e9al, the skies were crystal clear. As we packed the car, some members of our party voiced their dread about what terrible air conditions awaited us back home.<\/p>\n

Travelers should know that the list of prohibited items at the border is impressively long. I imagine the roadside ditches just before the crossing are littered with contraband fruit and meats, firearms, and that live chicken you planned to domesticate. My party, on the other hand, must\u2019ve looked less like international thieves and more like boring middle-classers. Both coming and going, our car was subjected to the barest of interviews.<\/p>\n

And what of it? I suppose I am pretty boring, with my black T-shirt and jeans in the winter, black T-shirt and khaki shorts in the summer, and the four Knicks hats I cycle through. Fashion is not my native language. Maybe that\u2019s why Montr\u00e9al fascinated me. The city seemed to treat clothing less as a declaration of allegiance and more as an act of personal expression. In the United States, we often wear our identities on our sleeves: our teams, our colleges, our brands. In Montr\u00e9al, at least from what I observed, people seemed more interested in aesthetics. That\u2019s cool, too. Either way, I had a wonderful time, and I already look forward to returning. Besides, Jen might have an apartment there now.<\/p>\n

1 Sad-eyed and Mets fan are kinda redundant, no?<\/p>\n

2 Poutine is a classic Canadian comfort food consisting of crispy French fries topped with fresh cheese curds and a rich, hot brown gravy. Whip up a batch yourself<\/a>, then schedule an appointment with your cardiologist.<\/p>\n

3 One woman on the sidewalk wore a generic basketball jersey that read \u201cTeamSquad\u201d on the front and \u201cJordan 23\u201d on the back. I dunno what that was all about.<\/p>\n

4 The Montr\u00e9al Canadiens are nicknamed the Habs as a shortened version of les habitants, which was the term used for the original French settlers of Quebec. What a strangely boring nickname. The Habitants. It doesn\u2019t strike fear in the hearts of opponents. My mind riffs on this silliness . . . \u201cWho are we playing next, coach?\u201d \u201cThe Johnson City Dwellers.\u201d \u201cCripes, we\u2019re doomed.\u201d There\u2019s a bit in here somewhere. . . .<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"Last week, your faithful Posting & Toasting correspondent traveled abroad. Maybe you were home eating sensibly, reading about…\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":819036,"comment_status":"","ping_status":"","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[194292],"tags":[49,48,260994,2338],"class_list":["post-819035","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","category-montreal","tag-ca","tag-canada","tag-knicks-features","tag-montreal"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/819035","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=819035"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/819035\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/819036"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=819035"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=819035"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=819035"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}