The NHL is finally going back to the Olympics, and honestly, it’s about time we stopped pretending the Spengler Cup satisfies the itch. After a decade of Gary Bettman playing chicken with the IOC over who pays for the insurance premiums and whether or not a player’s torn ACL is worth the marketing "exposure" in a different time zone, the suits finally blinked.

Now we have to deal with the fallout. For the Nashville Predators, a team that spent the summer of 2024 acting like a billionaire in a mid-life crisis at a luxury car dealership, the 2026 Milan-Cortina games are a high-stakes gamble. Barry Trotz dropped over $100 million in guaranteed contracts on aging stars to turn Broadway into a contender. Sending those expensive, brittle assets across the Atlantic to play high-intensity hockey on wider ice feels less like a celebration of sport and more like a logistical nightmare waiting to happen.

Here is how the four inevitable Predators performed on the world stage, ranked by how much they made their front office sweat.

4. Brady Skjei (USA) Skjei is the $7 million-a-year man Nashville brought in to stabilize a blue line that occasionally looked like a construction site. On a loaded Team USA, he wasn't the headliner. He was the reliable middle-pairing guy, the one who eats minutes so Adam Fox can do something flashy. Skjei’s performance was clinical. He didn't turn the puck over. He didn't make mistakes. But he also didn't look like a guy worth a seven-year commitment when matched against the speed of a younger Canadian forward group. He played safe. He stayed healthy. For a guy whose contract runs until he’s 37, "safe" is the only word Nashville fans wanted to hear.

3. Juuse Saros (Finland) Watching Juuse Saros in a Finnish jersey is a masterclass in existential dread. He is the only reason Finland stays competitive in games where they’re outshot forty to twelve. He spent the tournament doing what he does in Nashville: making highlight-reel saves while his defensemen stood around looking like they were waiting for a bus. The friction here isn't about his talent—it's about the workload. Saros is 5’11” in a league of giants, and every desperation save he makes looks like it’s shaving a week off his career. He carried the Finns to the quarterfinals, but by the time he hopped the flight back to Middle Tennessee, he looked like he needed a month in a sensory deprivation tank.

2. Filip Forsberg (Sweden) Forsberg is the most talented forward to ever wear a Predators jersey, and he played like it in Italy. He’s got that specific brand of Swedish arrogance that allows him to pull off a toe-drag in the neutral zone while three defenders are closing in. He led Sweden in scoring, peppering the net with that heavy wrist shot that makes goalies question their career choices. The problem is the physical toll. Every time Forsberg went into the boards with a heavy-hitting defenseman from the Czech Republic, half of Nashville held its breath. He’s the engine of the Preds’ offense. Seeing him limp off after a blocked shot in the second period of a round-robin game is a special kind of torture for a fanbase that knows the team's playoff hopes live and die with his hamstrings.

1. Roman Josi (Switzerland) It had to be Josi. He is Switzerland’s hockey program. Without him, they’re just a collection of guys who are very good at following instructions. With him, they’re a threat. Josi played nearly thirty minutes a night. He ran the power play. He led the rush. He probably folded the laundry in the Olympic village. At 35, he shouldn't be able to skate like a guy ten years his junior, but he does. He dragged a mediocre Swiss roster into a bronze-medal conversation through sheer force of will.

But there’s a cost to being the hero. Josi is the highest-paid player on the Nashville roster, and he’s the one player they absolutely cannot replace. Every minute he spent chasing McDavid or MacKinnon on Olympic ice was a minute of wear and tear that Trotz didn't pay for. He looked exhausted by the final buzzer. He looked like a man who had given everything for a flag, leaving nothing but crumbs for the franchise that’s actually signing the checks.

The NHL wanted the spectacle. The players wanted the glory. The owners just wanted their stars back in one piece. We got the best hockey in a decade, but as the Preds' flight touches down at BNA, you have to wonder if a gold medal on someone else’s shelf is worth a tired, bruised roster facing a playoff push.

Is the "growth of the game" worth a first-round exit?