Yo! Kevin Cheveldayoff!
You've never asked for my advice. More to the point, the chances of you seeking my counsel are about as good as Dustin Byfuglien passing on second helpings of gravy and dumplings. And, no, that isn't a cheap shot at your wandering defenceman's heft. It's just that, based on his girth, the guy's got a very healthy appetite.
Don't get me wrong. I like the guy. I just think he'd be wise to order a chef's salad once in a while, that's all.
Anyway, it's about the National Hockey League draft on Friday in Pittsburgh.
This will be your second trip to the NHL's annual garage sale as general manager of the Winnipeg Jets, and you've got the ninth shout-out. Assuming, that is, you don't wheel a deal to move up or down before then.
My guess is that you and your bird dogs remain in what-if mode, which is to say that you, like the rest of us, can only speculate as to how the eight teams in front of you will play their chips. Until then, you/we really don't know who's available for the plucking when it's your call.
So, let me just offer this piece of guidance: Do not go rogue. Stick to the plot.
I say that because you kind of went wayward last June when you used your initial selection (seventh overall) to bring Mark Scheifele into the fold.
Few folks had the kid ranked that high. Come to think of it, only you and the scouts you inherited from the Atlanta Thrashers had Scheifele at No. 7. Others had him pegged anywhere from No. 12 (TSN) to No. 41 (The Hockey News), so you raised a few eyebrows when you claimed the Barrie Colts centre.
Not that it was a bad decision, understand. It might even turn out to be a stroke of genius. For now, though, it showed me that you've got a streak of rogue in you, so I must caution you that going rogue doesn't always play well in Winnipeg.
As Exhibit A, I direct your attention to a guy who once held the GM portfolio with the original Jets—Mike Smith, who was Rogue Deluxe.
Something of a brainiac who had a degree in Russian studies and figured himself to be the smartest person in the room, Smith often looked like he slept in his clothes (sort of Lt. Columbo chic), which gave him that absent-minded professor look. And he was forever trying to reinvent the wheel.
Like in 1992, when he created Frankendraft in his mad scientist lab.
The Jets had the No. 17 pick that year in Montreal. He chose Sergei Bautin, a selection that yielded a collective "Huh? Who?" from the masses.
Until Smith plucked Bautin, he was a player known only to family and friends in Rahachow, Byelorussian Soviet Socialist Republic (Soviet Union). A 25-year-old defenceman of extremely limited skill, Bautin wasn't on any team's pre-draft list. Except Smith's team, of course.
Well, Bautin was a bust. He played 130 games for the Jets, scored five goals, added 25 assists and struck fear into absolutely no one when they crossed the Winnipeg blueline.
The thing is, Smith didn't cut his losses at Sergei Bautin in '92. He followed that choice with Boris Mironov. Then Alexander Alexeyev. And Artur Oktyabrev. Let's put it this way: There were 41 comrades chosen by NHL outfits that year, and the Jets had nine of them.
Smith somehow managed to squeeze in two youngsters who actually knew how to speak English, but it was painfully evident that he was on a Make-Work-for-Russians project.
One local columnist took to calling the Jets GM Mikhail Smith. And he labeled the team the Central Red Jets.
So, you don't want to go there, Chevy.
Not that I have anything against Russians, understand. Heck, I once drafted an all-comrade team in an office hockey pool. Finished last.
Still, if you have a chance to grab an Alexei Zhamnov clone or a Pavel Bure clone on Friday in Pittsburgh, you should be all over it like sour cream on a bowl of babushka Helga's borscht.
At any rate, here's the bottom line, Chevy: Don't go rogue. But if you can't resist the urge, make it Rogue Lite...in the fourth or fifth round.
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