Roman Josi is still here. Obviously.
Switzerland dropped its 2026 Olympic men’s hockey roster this morning, and it reads like a high-end watch catalog—expensive, precise, and starting to feel its age. After years of the NHL treating the Olympics like a nuisance, the league is finally letting its stars play in Milan-Cortina. This means the Swiss are no longer just the plucky underdogs who show up to make things difficult for the Swedes. They’re a veteran squad with a massive insurance bill and a window that’s closing faster than a laptop at 5:00 PM on a Friday.
The roster is built around the usual suspects. You’ve got Josi, Nico Hischier, Kevin Fiala, and Timo Meier. These are the guys who have turned Switzerland from a hockey curiosity into a legitimate threat to anyone’s podium dreams. But look closer. The list is heavy on the "Golden Generation" that pushed the program into the elite tier, and there’s a distinct lack of fresh legs waiting in the wings. It’s a roster designed for right now because, frankly, 2030 looks like a bleak, empty hallway.
Patrick Fischer, the head coach who has spent years trying to convince the world that Swiss hockey is more than just "playing the trap and hoping for a miracle," isn't taking many risks. He’s leaning on the NHL veterans who have been the bedrock of this team for a decade. It makes sense. If you’re going to spend millions in insurance premiums to cover Josi’s $9 million-a-year contract, you might as well play him until his knees give out.
That’s the specific friction point no one likes to talk about. The Swiss Ice Hockey Federation is basically betting the house on a handful of thirty-somethings. The insurance alone for this roster is rumored to be pushing the limits of their annual budget. One bad hit in a meaningless group stage game against a physical squad, and the Nashville Predators or the New Jersey Devils are going to be calling Zurich with some very expensive questions. It’s a high-stakes gamble for a country that usually prides itself on risk management.
The depth is where things get shaky. While the top two lines can skate with anyone, the bottom six is a collection of National League lifers. These are guys who play in one of the richest, most comfortable leagues in Europe. It’s a great life—short bus rides, high tax-adjusted salaries, and a passionate fan base. But it’s not the NHL. When the Swiss have to face a fourth line of Canadian grinders who treat every shift like a bar fight, that talent gap starts to look like a canyon.
There’s a certain cynicism in the way this roster was rolled out. It wasn't a celebration of the sport’s growth; it felt like a tactical deployment. The Swiss aren't here to play "the beautiful game." They’re here to clog the neutral zone, rely on world-class goaltending from the likes of Akira Schmid or Leonardo Genoni, and pray that Fiala can snip a goal on the power play. It’s efficient. It’s calculated. It’s also incredibly boring to watch if you aren't holding a Swiss passport.
The media likes to talk about the "rise of the Swiss," but we’ve been hearing that narrative for twelve years. They’ve won silver at the Worlds, sure. They’ve upset the big boys in group stages. But they haven't won the game that matters. They haven't stood on that Olympic podium with a medal around their necks. This 2026 roster is their last real shot before the talent pool starts to dry up and they slide back into the middle of the pack, competing with the Germans and the Slovaks for the crumbs.
Fischer didn’t include many surprises, but the exclusion of a few younger NL prospects suggests he’s done experimenting. He wants guys who won’t blink when they see Connor McDavid bearing down on them. The problem is, knowing what's coming doesn't always help you stop it. You can have the most precise gears in the world, but if the mainspring is getting brittle, the whole thing eventually stops ticking.
The Swiss are bringing a knife to a gunfight, but it’s a very expensive, very sharp Swiss Army knife. They’ll win a few games. They’ll probably ruin someone’s tournament. But when the dust settles in Milan, will anyone remember this roster as anything more than a final, desperate gasp from a generation that stayed at the party just a little too long?
It’s a lot of money to spend just to finish fifth again.