Weegar opens up about emotional departure from Flames

NEW YORK — He held it together right up until he heard Hubie’s voice.

That’s the moment MacKenzie Weegar says the whole day finally broke him — the moment the weight of everything he had to get his head around came crashing down in a way he couldn’t outrun anymore. 

He’d been stoic through the meeting with Calgary Flames GM Craig Conroy, numb through the drive home, composed through the first round of calls with his parents, his sister and his agent. 

But when Jonathan Huberdeau picked up the phone from a hospital bed in New York, where he was undergoing hip surgery, the dam burst.

“I called Hubie before I told everybody else,” said Weegar, in a lengthy phone interview in which he described in great detail the excruciating, five-and-a-half hour window in which he and his wife Maggie had to decide his future.

“I just wanted to give him the respect, because he’s my best friend, and we’ve been through a lot together. When I called him, that’s when it truly hit me. I cried. I cried a lot.”

It’s been more than a week since Weegar was thrust into the hockey world’s spotlight, forced to make a decision that was about much more than just hockey. A move that would alter the course of everything they’d built in Calgary.

It reminds us all, the hardest decisions in hockey aren’t made in boardrooms or dressing rooms. They’re made at kitchen tables, when a player and his partner stare at one another and try to answer a question that can change the course of their lives.

That’s where Weegar unexpectedly found himself last Wednesday.

One minute he was in the Flames dressing room after practice. The next, equipment manager Mark DePasquale was pulling him aside.

“'Depo' told me they wanted to see me upstairs,” said Weegar, who'd heard the rumours he could be traded. 

“Walking up, I just remember looking at him and telling him, ‘My heart’s racing right now.’ And 'Depo' looks back and goes, ‘Mine too.’”

Inside Craig Conroy’s office, the message from the GM was simple and stunning: Utah had made a massive offer. Five pieces. A haul that signaled a new direction for Calgary, and demonstrated how badly the Mammoth wanted and valued the veteran defenceman.

All he had to do was waive his no‑trade clause.

He walked out of the office in a fog.

He stepped into the training room, looked around at the guys, and felt his heart drop.

“You’re just kind of sitting there, like, ‘This could be the last time walking into the locker room,’” he said.

He left quickly, afraid that if he lingered, he’d start telling people what had just happened.

Then came the drive home. The call to his wife.

And the disbelief.

“She thought I was pranking her again,” he said. “I pranked her the day before, so she didn’t believe me at first.”

This was no joke.

They were now on the clock, tasked with wading through the positives and negatives of deciding whether to uproot their lives.

For a man who committed eight years to Calgary, who bought into the city, the community, the new arena he helped champion, the idea of even considering a move felt almost cruel.

He didn’t just sign a contract here. He built a life. He became a face of the franchise. It’s where he toured the new rink and imagined himself leading the Flames onto that ice in 18 months.

He became the guy many believed should wear the “C” next.

Utah was a blank page. A new market. A new fan base. A new organization still figuring out what it wants to be. 

For a 32‑year‑old with five years left on his deal, that’s not a decision you make quickly.

And if there wasn’t already enough pressure involved, word of the pending trade leaked out hours later by Sportsnet’s Elliotte Friedman, intensifying the angst, the dread, the fears, the sadness and the shock.

The hockey world awaited his decision.

“When you go into a situation like that, and the team asks you to leave, it’s a weird feeling,” he said. 

“It’s almost like they don’t want you anymore. And then a team wants you really bad. You’re weighing that.”

Utah was in a playoff spot. They had a plan. They had an aggressive owner whose passion was clear when they spoke on the phone. They had a vision that matched Weegar’s timeline.

From noon until 5:30 p.m., the Weegars lived in a suspended reality.

They sat in silence. They talked through scenarios. They called his parents, his sister, his agent. They spoke to Utah’s ownership and management. Maggie spoke to other wives to understand what life there would look like.

But, mostly, it was just the two of them.

“I kept it really close,” he said. “It was my decision, and my family’s decision. I didn’t want to get influenced by anybody else.”

The hockey part came quickly. The emotional part didn’t.

“The hardest part about leaving was my teammates,” he said. “Being a big part of the leadership role, big part of the community — that was really, really hard. That’s what makes me the most emotional.”

He texted the team, wanting them to understand he wasn’t jumping ship, tossing them to the curb. They understood.

But that didn’t make it easier.

When he returned to the Saddledome two days later to gather his gear, he saw Mikael Backlund, the equipment staff, the people behind the scenes who make a team feel like home, including a security guard at the players’ entrance named Richard who will never forget the hug he got from Weegar.

“It was super emotional,” said Weegar, of his last day at the Dome. “It was sad. Even when I think about it right now, it still hits me. It’s still new. It’s fresh. I absolutely loved it there. I was loyal. I wanted to bring a Cup there.”

And Calgary loved him back.

That became painfully clear in the hours after the trade.

“We have the Ring doorbell,” he said. “We could see kids coming up to the door Friday night while we were at dinner. They knew I’d been traded, so they wanted to get some things signed. They left letters on my door saying, ‘We’re gonna miss you — thanks for everything.’ Little things like that meant the world to me.”

Earlier that day, while walking his dogs in his Lakeview neighbourhood, two teenage girls sprinted around the corner wearing his jersey.

“They took a selfie with me and said, ‘All the best, good luck, we’re gonna miss you.’”

He paused.

“Everybody in Calgary always treated me so well,” he said.

He’s happy the Flames got a healthy return for him, and the fans got clarity a legit rebuild is afoot.

He’ll return to Calgary on April 12. He knows that night will be emotional. He knows the letters from kids, the selfies with teens, the quiet moments with teammates will all come rushing back.

But he also knows he made the right decision for his career and his family.

“It was weird. It was emotional. It still is,” he said. “But I’m happy with how it ended. I left on good terms. And Calgary will always have a big part of me.”