I won’t fault Sharks coach Todd McLellan for his rookie mistake this season, because I’ve made my fair share of them. Take poker, for instance. I’d played a lot of Texas Hold ’em online, racking up huge wins with my free-wheeling, take no prisoners style, but I fell flat on my face playing my first live game in Las Vegas. I hate to say it, but I got squashed like a bug on the broad windshield of low-limit poker, and it was probably the most embarrassing moment of my life.
I was playing at a little spot called O’Sheas, right across the street from Caesars Palace on the Vegas strip. It’s not the classiest place but it’s bathed in emerald green, with $1 High Life on tap and a leprechaun who walks along the top of the bar once every hour pouring free shots. O’Sheas even has a Burger King, Subway and beer pong in the back. Needless to say, it’s a little piece of heaven here on Earth.
I was about two hours into my first live poker game, sitting at a table right out front near the sidewalk, and I’ll admit I’d had a couple pops so I was feeling pretty good. The dealer tosses a couple cards my way and I give my cards a quick glance: pocket eights. The flop comes down and it shows queen, eight, ace. I’m feeling pretty confident sitting on three eights, so I raise it up and everyone folds except for a middle-aged guy (we’ll call him Frank) sitting across from me.
The turn card arrives and it’s a three. No help there, so I decided to check and Frank raises. I’m not going to be pushed around, so I re-raise. He calls and I feel like I’ve got the game in hand. The river card comes down and it’s another eight, giving me four eights! I feel like giving a Patrick Marleau fist pump, but I have to contain myself as I plan out my victory sequence. I figure I’ll separate old Frank from a chunk of his chips, give the dealer a nice tip, and hit up Burger King for a Whopper, maybe even a Double Whopper. I’ve earned it.
I offer up a modest raise and Frank immediately comes over the top, re-raising me. No sweat buddy, I’ll take your money. I re-raise and he immediately comes at me again. We go back and forth, like two waves crashing over one another, and the stack and my grin both keep growing with every raise. There aren’t any straight or flush possibilities, so there’s no way Frank can match my four eights. I can already taste the flame-broiled goodness. Finally Frank comes to his senses and calls my sixth re-raise. It’s probably about $300 but it looks like a college fund piled up in the middle of the table.
Frank turns over his cards to show pocket aces, meaning he has a full house, aces full of eights — an impressive hand, but peanuts against my four eights. I pick up my cards and slap them down. The cards hit the table and it feels like a Douglas Murray body blow, instantly filling me with shock, dismay and terror.
Pocket threes.
You know, it’s funny how a three can look like an eight on first glance. Frank does a goofy celebratory dance, my stomach turns like a pirouetting figure skater, and I gather up my remaining chips and excuse myself from the table. I saunter off to the back of O’Sheas, seeking the solace of a drink-pouring leprechaun.
McLellan’s rookie mistake hasn’t been as embarrassing, but it’s just as unexplainable. Brian Boucher has made 12 starts for San Jose this season, with seven of them coming during a stretch in November when Evgeni Nabokov was sidelined with a lower body injury. Boucher got the nod last night, stopping 35 of 36 shots during the Sharks’ 2-1 shootout loss to the Pittsburgh Penguins. It was only his third start in San Jose’s last 31 games. At that pace, Boucher would start eight games per season, meaning Nabokov would start 74 of them. That’s ridiculous.
It’s ridiculous because Boucher has been outstanding. He has a 1.79 goals against average and .932 save percentage. Just for comparison’s sake, Boston goaltender Tim Thomas, the front-runner for the Vezina Trophy, currently has a 2.15 GAA and .930 SP. Now, nobody’s saying Boucher should be San Jose’s starter, but if anyone can provide a reason why he’s only starting one out of every 10 games I’d love to hear it.
The Sharks have a comfortable lead in the division and they’re battling the Detroit Red Wings for top spot in the conference. I understand that McLellan is competitive and wants to win every game, and I would accept the argument that Nabokov gives the Sharks the best chance to win every night. Of course, I would accept it if it was true. The fact is, Boucher has been far better this season. I know I’m sounding like a broken record on this issue, but it just doesn’t make any sense to have Nabokov taking on the huge workload.
Nabokov hasn’t played poorly, but I hate to think that he’s dictating his own playing schedule. And he’s not going to win a Vezina based on wins alone, it just won’t happen. He’s cost the Sharks a couple games over the last two weeks, and fatigue has to be a factor at some point. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but eventually it will add up. Splitting the playing time a little more evenly wouldn’t hurt the Sharks at all, and could only help prevent injury or fatigue as the Sharks come down the stretch.
My rookie blunder at the poker table was a case of mistaken identity. McLellan’s handling of his goaltenders also looks like mistaken identity, figuring Boucher’s a backup who only deserves the rare start. It’s a rookie mistake, and Shark fans are hoping it doesn’t backfire. I'm right there with you. Because trust me folks, it’s embarrassing searching for a leprechaun to drown your sorrows.
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