Hockey Night in Canada: Punjabi Edition Cancelled After 18 Years

In a recent CBC News report, one of the most distinctive voices in Canadian sports broadcasting signed off for good: Hockey Night in Canada: Punjabi Edition has been cancelled after 18 seasons, ending a Saturday-night ritual for Punjabi-speaking hockey fans across the country. The show, which launched in 2008 and aired NHL games in Punjabi on OMNI Television, announced the news on Friday through its X account, thanking viewers for their "unwavering loyalty." The decision, driven by low audience numbers and a shifting broadcasting landscape, marks another milestone in the breakup of Canada's most storied hockey broadcast tradition.

Hockey Night in Canada Punjabi Edition Cancelled After 18 Seasons

Toronto, Ontario — The end of the Punjabi Edition follows the CBC's announcement in June that it would no longer broadcast Hockey Night in Canada after nearly a century, and Rogers' closure of Vancouver's Sportsnet 650 in July. The show will not return for the 2026-27 NHL season.

The Story: A Cultural Touchstone Signs Off

The end of an era in Canadian sports broadcasting was confirmed this week: Hockey Night in Canada: Punjabi Edition has been cancelled after 18 seasons. The show, which launched in 2008 and aired NHL games in Punjabi on Saturday nights via OMNI Television, announced the news on Friday (Aug. 14) through its X account. The statement read that the program "brought our community closer to the game we love" since its inception, adding that it "shared the stories of South Asian players and families and created a space that was truly unique in Canadian sports." The message concluded with gratitude for viewers' "unwavering loyalty."

The cancellation is not an isolated incident. It follows the CBC's announcement in June that it would no longer broadcast Hockey Night in Canada — a fixture for nearly a century — after failing to reach a new sublicensing agreement with Rogers Sportsnet, the national NHL rights-holder. Rogers also shuttered Vancouver sports radio station Sportsnet 650 in July after almost a decade on the air. The Punjabi broadcast will not return for the 2026-27 NHL season, and Prime Video will now exclusively carry Wednesday night national NHL regular-season games in Canada.

Why the numbers tell only part of the story

Rogers Sportsnet called the cancellation a "difficult decision," citing audience levels that "aren't strong enough to sustain the production long term." According to Sportsnet, the show's overall average audience last season was just 1,500 viewers, with more than half of all games averaging fewer than 1,000. Those figures are stark, but they fail to capture the program's outsized cultural significance. For 18 years, the broadcast provided a Saturday-night ritual for Punjabi-speaking families from Surrey to Brampton, offering play-by-play in a language that connected the game to a community often underrepresented in mainstream hockey media.

The show's reach extended well beyond its raw viewership numbers. It served as a pipeline for South Asian talent in sports media, a platform for storytelling about players of South Asian descent, and a visible symbol that hockey — Canada's game — belonged to everyone. The cancellation raises uncomfortable questions about how broadcasters measure value, particularly when it comes to ethnic media and community programming in an era of tightening budgets and consolidated rights deals.

From OMNI's studios to a viral call

For many Canadians, the first time they heard hockey called in Punjabi was not on a Saturday night in their own living room, but through a grainy clip shared millions of times across social media. It was June 2016, and Harnarayan Singh, the long-time play-by-play voice of the Punjabi Edition, was behind the microphone for Game 1 of the Stanley Cup Final between the Pittsburgh Penguins and the San Jose Sharks. When Penguins forward Nick Bonino scored the game-winning goal in the third period, Singh's call — "Bonino, Bonino, Bonino!" — became an instant sensation, introducing a national audience to the energy and joy of hockey described in a language other than English or French.

The moment was significant for reasons that went beyond a single goal. Here was a Canadian hockey broadcast, produced for a specific linguistic community, capturing the attention of the entire country. The clip was shared by fans, players and media personalities alike, many of whom had never before considered what it might mean to hear the game in Punjabi. For Singh, who had been calling games for the Punjabi Edition since its early years, the viral moment was both a personal milestone and a validation of the work he and his colleagues had been doing for nearly a decade.

At the time, the Punjabi Edition was believed to be the only regular NHL coverage in a language other than English or French. That distinction made the broadcast something of a curiosity in some circles, but for the communities it served, it was an essential service. The show did not simply translate the game; it interpreted it, weaving in cultural references, humour and a cadence that resonated with Punjabi-speaking viewers from coast to coast. Singh's call of the Bonino goal captured that spirit perfectly — a moment of pure, unfiltered excitement that transcended language barriers.

The viral clip also served as a reminder of the diversity that exists within Canadian hockey fandom, a reality that is often overlooked in mainstream coverage. For years, the image of the typical hockey fan has been narrow, but the response to Singh's call demonstrated that the sport's appeal is far broader. The Punjabi Edition was not an outlier in the hockey landscape; it was a reflection of the changing face of the country, and the Bonino call brought that truth into sharp focus for millions of viewers who might otherwise never have encountered it.

Voices from the broadcast booth

Jagraj Lalli, a commentator who joined the show in the fall — debuting Oct. 25, 2025, covering a Vancouver Canucks home game against the Montreal Canadiens — said he was "shocked" by the news. For Lalli, the role was a lifelong dream, one he had nurtured since he was an eight-year-old fan muting the television in his parents' living room to pretend he was calling play-by-play. "Despite the show being gone, the 18 years of show and connection and diversity that the show brought to families and the show will live on forever," he said. He added a personal commitment: "I will do everything I can to keep everyone connected and make sure that the bridge developed between the language of Punjabi, the community of Punjabi and North American sports never breaks."

Bhupinder Singh Hundal, whose roles included studio host, commentator and associate producer, reflected on the program's legacy. "I was fortunate to be there in the early days and to play a role in helping build something that became much more than a television program," he said. "Hockey Night Punjabi opened doors for me that changed the course of my career." He also spoke to the broader meaning: "I'm also proud of what the program represented. Punjabi language, culture and community had a place on a national stage, alongside Canada's game."

The Punjabi Edition also served as a launching point for a generation of South Asian broadcasters who have since become fixtures in Canadian sports media. Alumni of the show have moved on to roles in mainstream hockey coverage, bringing with them the skills, perspectives and connections they developed in the Punjabi-language booth. Their presence in the broader media landscape is a testament to the program's role as a training ground and a proof of concept — evidence that diverse voices not only belong in hockey broadcasting, but can thrive there when given the opportunity.

Fan reactions and the diaspora's stake in hockey

The online response to the cancellation has been swift and emotional. One fan wrote: "As a descendant of Pakistani immigrants born in Canada, even though I don't speak Punjabi, [Hockey Night in Canada Punjabi] was special to me because I got to see people that looked like me be involved in the sport of hockey." Another posted: "What a damn shame... Trailblazers for the South Asian diaspora — you'll all be missed massively." These comments underscore a reality that ratings alone cannot convey: the show functioned as a beacon of representation for a community that has long been part of Canada's fabric but has often been marginalised in the sport's mainstream narrative.

The demographic context is significant. More than 700,000 Canadians report Punjabi as their mother tongue — roughly two per cent of the population — making it among the most spoken languages in Canada after English and French. The community is concentrated in British Columbia and Ontario, with notable populations in Surrey, Brampton and Calgary. For these viewers, the Saturday-night broadcast was not merely entertainment; it was a weekly affirmation that their language and culture had a legitimate place in the national conversation about hockey.

What this means for Canadian media and multiculturalism

The cancellation of Hockey Night in Canada: Punjabi Edition arrives at a moment when Canadian media is undergoing profound structural change. The CBC's withdrawal from Hockey Night in Canada after nearly a century marks the end of a public broadcasting institution. Rogers' decision to cut the Punjabi edition, along with the closure of Sportsnet 650, signals a broader retrenchment in sports media, driven by shifting viewer habits and the economics of streaming rights. Prime Video's exclusive Wednesday night package further fragments the broadcast landscape, moving marquee games behind a paywall that may be inaccessible to some households.

For Canadian readers, the implications extend beyond hockey. This is a story about how we value cultural programming, how we measure success in media, and who gets to see themselves reflected in the institutions that define our national identity. The federal government's ongoing debates about online streaming regulation and the future of the CBC take on added urgency when a program like this disappears. If the only metric that matters is raw audience size, then ethnic media will always struggle to compete with mass-market offerings. But the social value of such programming — the sense of belonging it fosters, the careers it launches, the stories it tells — is not easily quantified.

The broader context of this cancellation is one of financial strain and strategic realignment across Canadian broadcasting. The CBC, which has faced persistent funding pressures in recent years, announced in June that it would step away from Hockey Night in Canada after nearly a century, a decision that was met with widespread disappointment but little surprise given the shifting economics of sports rights. The CRTC's Canadian content regulations, long a cornerstone of the country's broadcasting system, are being tested as never before, with traditional television viewership declining and streaming platforms capturing an ever-larger share of the audience. For communities that relied on conventional broadcast television to see themselves reflected in the national conversation, these changes carry real consequences.

The migration of sports rights to digital platforms such as Prime Video represents a fundamental shift in how Canadians consume hockey. While streaming offers convenience and flexibility, it also introduces new barriers — subscription costs, internet access, and the simple familiarity of turning on the television on a Saturday night. For older viewers, for newcomers, and for families in communities where the Punjabi Edition was a weekly ritual, the move to streaming may effectively price them out of the experience. The question is not whether hockey will survive in the digital age, but whether the diversity of voices that have enriched the game's broadcast history will be carried forward, or left behind in the transition.

A legacy that outlasts the broadcast

Despite the cancellation, those associated with the show are determined to preserve its legacy. Lalli's pledge to keep the bridge between Punjabi language and North American sports intact suggests that the community's connection to hockey will not simply vanish with the end of the broadcast. The show's alumni — commentators, producers, and studio hosts — have built careers and networks that will continue to influence Canadian sports media. And the fans who grew up watching the games in Punjabi will carry that experience forward, whether through social media, community events, or the next generation of broadcasters they inspire.

The end of Hockey Night in Canada: Punjabi Edition is a loss, but it is not the end of the story. It is a reminder that representation in media is fragile, that it requires sustained investment and institutional commitment. It is also a reminder that the communities who benefit from such programming are resilient, and that the bridges built over 18 years will not easily be dismantled. As Canada continues to grapple with questions of multiculturalism, reconciliation and inclusion, the fate of this broadcast offers a cautionary tale about what can be lost when we fail to recognise the value of programming that speaks to all Canadians.

By Alex Thompson, Staff Writer

This article was produced with AI-assisted research and editorial support. Reporting is based on sources cited in the article.