SAN JOSE — This wasn’t my idea. I swear.

Well, the original phraseology was. Or the original adaptation. Or whatever. But that’s all.

You see, way back in 1991 when Silicon Valley was still being roamed by non-electric vehicles, I created my own personal and arbitrary nickname for the new local hockey team. I began referring to the Sharks as Los Tiburones. That’s the Spanish translation of “The Sharks.” Almost no one else ever did or has followed my lead. But I have continued my policy for the last 25 years, just for fun — isn’t sports supposed to be fun? — and to annoy people who don’t seem to like my policy.

So for that original brainstorm of annoyance, I’ll take credit. But trust me. I never imagined that at any actual point in time, actual Sharks players would wear actual Los Tiburones sweaters or jerseys.

Well, it’s happening. This week. And I had nothing to do with it, honest.

Saturday night, as part of a Hispanic Heritage Night celebration, the Sharks are giving away Los Tiburones replica jerseys as a promotional item to every fan in attendance. Thursday morning at their pregame skate before playing Columbus, the real Sharks players will wear NHL quality-Los Tiburones sweaters. The players will then autograph the jerseys, which will be auctioned off at Saturday’s game with the proceeds going to the Hispanic Foundation of Silicon Valley. If people are generous enough, some $25,000 to $30,000 should be raised for the foundation’s educational mission.

Last summer when the Sharks’ front office folk were putting this all together, they were nice enough to call and ask if I had any issues with their promotional intentions. I was flattered but puzzled. Why would I have issues? Even if I did, what could I do to stop their plans? I never patented the . . . um, phraseology. Or adaptation. Or whatever. I’m not even sure that I could have patented it. I mean, can you patent a translation? I don’t think so.

Anyway, the Sharks moved ahead with the Los Tiburones project and even dropped off one of the promotional jersey-replica shirts at my house this week. They were designed by graphic artist Terry Smith, who drew up the original Sharks logo in 1991. And the shirts do look pretty damn cool, if I say so myself. But if this was a devious and blatant scheme to have me write a column about the whole thing . . . well, I guess it worked.

“We wanted to do more unique promotions this year,” said John Tortora, the Sharks’ chief operations officer. “We wanted high-quality items. And with this, it seemed a good match, with the money going to the Hispanic Foundation — but also to note that our market is evolving and we wanted to be at the forefront of being inclusive.”

The Sharks have always had one of hockey’s more diverse fan bases. A stroll around the SAP Center concourse on game night confirms that. But Tortora informed me that of the 2,500 new season ticket holders that the team picked up as part of last spring’s run to the Stanley Cup Final, roughly 30 percent volunteered that they were of Hispanic heritage in a marketing survey. I trust that these fans are not the ones who send me angry emails, asking me to stop using Los Tiburones in my column because “we speak English in California.”

My answer to that objection is always the same: You know, I will be happy to refer to the Sharks exclusively as “Sharks” as soon as San Jose’s name is officially changed to “St. Joseph.” Otherwise, I maintain that Los Tiburones is simply being consistent with the intentions of city founders. If you want to slap anybody with an instigation penalty for that, talk to them. I’m just carrying on a proud tradition from 1777, when San Jose was founded and Joe Thornton first started growing his mammoth beard.

No such future ramifications were on my mind in 1990 when my own Los Tiburones inspiration arrived. Sometime that autumn, the Sharks first decided that their nickname was going to be . . . er, the Sharks. Before then, the organization had a generic name along the lines of “San Jose Hockey, Inc.” But then came the big announcement. After conducting a name-the-team contest among fans, team owner George Gund chose “Sharks” as the winner.

That day, I was at the office along with several colleagues. I immediately launched a discourse on whether people in the Bay Area would embrace that nickname or perhaps put their own twist on it. After all, as I explained in my best Cliff Clavin know-it-all mode, fans of the Montreal Canadiens often refer to their team as “The Habs.” That’s a shortened version of “Les Habitants,” which is what the original French settlers of Quebec called themselves.

“What could people here call the Sharks?” I wondered aloud.

Then I turned to one of our young reporters, Pedro Gomez. Yes, the same guy who now works for ESPN as a baseball reporter. He was covering the A’s for us in 1990. Pedro is Cuban-American. I knew he spoke español.

“Hey, Pedro,” I said, “what is the Spanish word for ‘Sharks?’ ”

“Tiburones,” he quickly answered. “Los Tiburones.”

“Perfect,” I said.

And that’s how it all began. From that day forward, I have used the phrase (or adaptation or whatever) in almost all of my columns about the Sharks. Each time I do so, I get several angry emails or tweets telling me to stop using the nickname because it’s silly and irritating. Which is kind of the point. I mean, do we have to take sports so seriously that a columnist can’t develop his own inane stylistic affectation if he wants? Besides, over the years, a funny thing has happened. On the rare occasions that I don’t throw a Los Tiburones reference into the column, readers will write and say they are upset that I didn’t. Go figure.

Tortora said that to his knowledge, no fans have complained about Saturday’s promotion based on the language issue.

“We have not received any of that kind of blowback,” Tortora said. “But I think the answer to any blowback like that is, hockey is for everyone.”

Too bad not everyone can own one of the cool Los Tiburones jerseys. They’re so groovy, I might start claiming them as my idea.