No one likes the San Jose Sharks, or sharks in general, more
than Tom Smith
GILROY
The Shark Man stalks his seat like prey.
Pacing back and forth, Tom Smith is frantic. The only calm thing near him during Thursday’s San Jose Sharks opening playoff game against Anaheim is Smith’s team jacket, which rests comfortably in front of him, draped over the back of a chair at Gilroy’s The Westside Grill.
“I’m freaking out,” he says while donning a Sharks jersey and cap, a teal ear ring and a giant shark tooth around his neck. “I probably lose weight during games. I won’t eat during the game. I’ll order my food, but I eat afterwards.”
He doesn’t say this during the game, of course. Most games, Smith doesn’t say a word.
“I’ll be agonizing. I’ll be mad, happy; I’ll go through a gambit of emotions during the game,” he says. “I’ll be physically and mentally drained, and I’ll love every minute of it.”
An engineering manager for an electronics company, Smith, who moved to Gilroy in 1996 and turns 50 years old today, has been at one of three places during every Sharks game for the past 18 seasons: Home, HP Pavilion or Westside Grill.
He readily admits he’s crazy about the San Jose Sharks – he is currently on vacation for nine days just to watch the playoffs – and sharks in general. He also admits he’s crazy about a lot of things.
“I have an addictive personality, and I have three of everything,” Smith says.
A small sampling of Smith’s possessions include: Three toolboxes, three workout machines, three sets of pots and pans, three sets of knives, three weed wackers – this is just scratching the surface. A vast collection of video games, DVDs, Harley Davidson memorabilia, Golf Digest magazines and Sharks hats, T-shirts and jerseys can be found in nearly every corner of his home.
There are other items which Smith owns just one of, but he makes up for their lack of quantity in exuberance.
His house is painted teal and white and features a giant Sharks logo on the garage. He has a beat-up ’88 Lincoln Town Car limousine with slashes on the hood where shark fins will soon be inserted. He owns a boat for scuba diving so he can swim with sharks. He handcrafted a wooden guitar into the shape of a shark.
His living room features Sharks posters and banners, an old street sign from when HP Pavilion was still being built, framed tickets, autographed pictures, cookie jars in the shape of sharks, a Sharks mouse pad, Sharks beer cozies, a 1994 bottle of chardonnay with a Sharks logo as its brand – “You go around and there are little Sharks things everywhere,” he says.
He also has an urn on his mantle for “Irbe,” a cat he named after former Sharks goaltender Arturs Irbe.
The most obvious symbol of Smith’s dedication to all things sharks is a body that is covered in predatory fish tattoos with one precious spot of real estate left open.
“I’ll probably have the Stanley Cup put on my side,” he says.
To be a Sharks fan like Smith, though, is to experience unrequited love on an annual basis. Despite having the best season in franchise history this year to capture the coveted President’s Trophy, awarded to the NHL team with the best regular season record, the Sharks have never reached the third round of the playoffs and currently trail Anaheim 2-0 in a first-round series that will likely be lost if San Jose suffers another defeat in the next two games.
There have been seven No. 8 seeds to knock off the No. 1 since 1994, with the Sharks, underdogs in years past, supplying two of those upsets. Smith’s favorite Sharks memory was in 1994, when San Jose toppled heavily favored Hockeytown, the Detroit Red Wings.
“It was the first time an eight team beat a No. 1 team, and I was there, and it was exciting as hell,” he says, adding that a “sea of teal” flooded the streets to celebrate after each Sharks home victory of the series.
For Smith, the experience of watching the Sharks is second to none.
“The only way it gets any better is when you’re inside The Tank and you hear that white noise, where it starts to crackle and you can’t even hear the person next to you,” he says. “Your skin starts crawling, your hair stands up. It’s like, ‘This is insane.’ And then I rip my shirt off and the usher comes and grabs me.”
This is where Smith’s passion meets a sense of impropriety.
When he attends games, Smith often wears just a leather jacket with no shirt underneath. If the Sharks are running away with a game and add an extra goal, The Shark Man, as he is called by friends and casual acquaintances, bares his tattoos before running down the aisles to bang on the glass. A picture of Smith’s antics, along with other rabid Sharks fans, once made the cover of the Yellow Pages.
He has been told by Sharks employees on many occasions his chest-baring behavior is unacceptable, but he is more or less given a free pass. The staff of Westside Grill has also learned to accept Smith’s quirks.
“The difference between Tom and Brad (Stone),” says Westside Grill bartender Teresa Glover, comparing Smith to another Sharks fan and regular at the bar, “is they’re both big fans, but Tom is very eccentric.”
Smith’s girlfriend, Heather Cooper, knows this as well as anyone. The two met at Westside Grill, where Cooper works, and she has had a first-hand opportunity to see his routine, which consists of not sitting during games, having his jacket always securely on the back of the chair, only taking bathroom breaks in between periods, and not wearing the same hat in consecutive games if the Sharks lose.
If anyone can have a calming influence on Smith, or at least has a fighting chance to get him to keep his shirt on at games, it’s Cooper.
“He won’t do that if I’m there, I’m sure,” she says with a smile.
Perhaps the best example of how Smith has lived life to the beat of his own drum set is the fact that Smith isn’t even his real name.
“Thomas Ray Vasques,” he says. “The first 10 minutes of every conversation was what my name was, how to spell it – it was annoying.”
Smith says he changed it for a number of reasons, but he has never regretted the decision.
As hard as he takes the Sharks losses, sometimes storming out of Westside Grill before games are over – only to speed home so he can yell at the TV – Smith is an eternal optimist, and is as content with life as he’s been in years. Divorced four years ago, Smith is now taking better care of himself by quitting smoking and getting a gym pass. He also is taking the next step in his relationship with Cooper by having her and her two children move into his home.
“I’m turning 50, I joined the gym over here and I decided to take care of myself,” Smith says. “I want to go another 50 years and see a couple of Cups.”
When that day comes, the celebration won’t be complete without The Shark Man, swimming shirtless in a sea of teal.
