Kurtenbach: For Sharks superstar Macklin Celebrini, the ‘C’ isn’t silent

Here’s the bummer we were watching in the third period on Saturday afternoon in Pittsburgh:

The scoreboard read 5-1 in favor of the hometown Penguins. Sidney Crosby, the face of the NHL for two decades and one of the greatest players of all time, was gliding around with that familiar, terrifying ease, putting on a clinic for a San Jose team that is still very much a work in progress.

The column was written. Seriously. It was going to be another “learning experience” — the polite euphemism we use in sports when the up-and-coming team doesn’t show up for a game.

But then, the script didn’t just get flipped; it got shredded, set on fire, and sprinkled over the ice in a 6-5 overtime fever dream win that defied everything we’ve come to expect from Sharks hockey in the last half-decade.

Macklin Celebrini happened.

We throw around terms like “generational” so often in sports that the word has lost its meaning. It’s marketing fluff now, with six or seven guys being “once”.

But what happened against the Penguins wasn’t marketing. It was bigger than that.

It was a coronation.

The box score says Celebrini filled the net with three points in the final 2:27 of regulation and in overtime.. But it won’t tell you he dragged a lifeless Sharks team back from a four-goal deficit in the third period, culminating in an overtime victory that had the hockey world befuddled and more than a bit scared.

It won’t tell you that the most important play of the afternoon shows up in the “penalty minutes” category.

When Will Smith — the other pillar of this franchise’s future and Celebrini’s winger — took a tough (but clean) hit from Penguins defenseman Parker Wotherspoon with 16:35 to play in the third and the Sharks only down 4-1 (they’d go up 5-1 on the subsequent power play), it was Celebrini who stepped in to defend his teammate.

In a sane world, your 19-year-old franchise savior, the kid with the golden hands, does not fight. (It should be noted that the wunderkind did not, in fact, drop his gloves, though he got in a few padded hooks.)

You don’t take the Ferrari off-roading. You don’t use a Stradivarius to hammer a nail. But when Smith went down hard, Celebrini didn’t look at the refs. He didn’t look at the bench, either. He looked for the fight.

He says he did whatever anyone on his team would have done.

I say he did what a captain does.

And that is where the game changed. That’s where the narrative arc of the San Jose Sharks’ franchise might have changed, too.

Right now, the San Jose Sharks have a leadership structure that involves rotating accolades. Celebrini wears an ‘A’ on his jersey during home games. It’s a nice gesture — a way to ease a kid into the burden of carrying a franchise.

The equipment managers haven’t stitched the ‘C’ on his chest yet. The organization is trying to be patient and follow the “proper” development timeline.

Saturday night proved that the timeline is garbage.

You don’t give a player the captaincy because of his tenure. You give it to him because when the ship is taking on water and the crew is ready to bail, he grabs the wheel.

That’s exactly what happened on Saturday.

When Celebrini fought, the Sharks woke up. The deficit, which became 5-1 and felt insurmountable to outsiders (like me), quickly became irrelevant. Celebrini played the final ten minutes of regulation and overtime like a man possessed, seemingly offended by the idea that his team would lose.

He didn’t just play well; he imposed his will on the game. He looked across the ice at Crosby — a man who has carried the “Next One” mantle for his entire life — and essentially said, “I’ll take it from here.”

The Sharks scored to make the deficit four to tie the game, with

This is what San Jose has been waiting for. This is what made the tank at the Tank worth it.

It’s not just the skill. We knew the skill was coming. We watched the draft highlights. We knew he could shoot the puck through a keyhole.

But you can’t manufacture heart. You can’t scout the kind of fire that makes a superstar risk a broken hand to defend a buddy.

That is the difference between a “talent” and a “leader.” A talent scores points in a 5-1 loss.

Talent might push a team towards a playoff berth or two.

But a leader turns 5-1 into 6-5.

A leader turns a moribund franchise into a Stanley Cup contender faster than anyone expected.

There are plenty of superlatives being tossed around the Bay Area this morning. “Savior.” “Phenom.” “Magician.” They all fit. They all seem apt. But none of them quite capture what happened Saturday night.

The Sharks can keep the ‘A’ on his jersey for as long as they want. They can play the service-time games and preach patience to the media. It doesn’t matter anymore. The locker room knows. The fans know. And after watching a four-goal lead evaporate into the ether because one kid decided he wasn’t done playing, the Pittsburgh Penguins and the rest of the NHL certainly know.

The jersey might not say it yet, but make no mistake: 19-year-old Celebrini is the captain of the San Jose Sharks.

They don’t just go as he goes.

No, they go when he says “go.”

This is his team, not just in theory, but in practice. The Sharks are in the best, hook-throwing hands.