A/N: Hey guys I'm trying out this idea of a new Mighty Ducks, but
basketball playing Ducks. So I own pretty much everyone except anyone you
recognize from the AMAZING AMAZING (I'm obsessed) Disney movie the Mighty
Ducks. Thanks - oh and PLEASE Review!!!!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Chapter One ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Mr. Ducksworth sat proudly, looking at his Mighty Ducks Jersey and all of the Newspaper articles involving the Ducks ever since their first win back in Peewees. He chuckled happily to himself, maybe drinking and driving at the same time was the best thing that Bombay had ever done for himself. Now that team had graduated from Eden Hall and rarely came back to Minneapolis.
Adam Banks, who had actually been a Hawk when this all began, was now in the minor leagues, with a very good chance of going all the way. Charlie was a coach for younger kids while he worked through med school. and the list went on. Everyone was doing well. But Mr. Ducksworth was getting bored. His famous Mighty Ducks were ending their hockey careers. He needed something new, more spark. but there was no miracle to be worked with hockey in Minnesota anymore. Ever since the Ducks every kid wanted to play hockey, and they all learned with style. No, his fame through hockey was over. There must be something else.
He hopped into his BMW and began driving down the street. When he had a problem, he solved it. He needed to solve this problem. Suddenly, the answer hit him. He was driving by a court filled with trashy looking boys playing pick-up basketball. It was a junky court, in need of painting and the boys looked like they were in need of help too. This, though Ducksworth, is my team. Nobody plays basketball in this part of the area. If they could win. another miracle by Ducksworth.
"Hey boys!" Ducksworth called. The boys elbowed each other a little as if to say, who the hell is this cook? "Ever considered trying out for the Division 5 Basketball team?"
"There is no division 5 basketball team, man," the one who was obviously the leader said, "and man we don't want to play by your rules. So you just get off our court and we might be nice to you."
"First you gotta let us drive that gig!" another boy pointed at the BMW.
"Just hold on a minute," Mr. Ducksworth shook his head. "Now, tryouts for the team are. tomorrow. in the gym. I'll make a spot for you guys. I'll see you there." Mr. Ducksworth got into his BMW and drove off, leaving the boys stunned. He quickly phoned up Connor Jenkins. He knew that Jenkins would have to help him out with the basketball coaching if he paid him a generous salary. Jenkins' life had fallen apart ever since his wife and his three kids left him. Now he was in debt to his wife, and had to take any job he could find. Plus he knew that Jenkins was an avid basketball player before his injury.
After just one phone call, Ducksworth had his life in order again. Fame was so close he could almost taste it. And it tasted like Duck.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Chapter One ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Mr. Ducksworth sat proudly, looking at his Mighty Ducks Jersey and all of the Newspaper articles involving the Ducks ever since their first win back in Peewees. He chuckled happily to himself, maybe drinking and driving at the same time was the best thing that Bombay had ever done for himself. Now that team had graduated from Eden Hall and rarely came back to Minneapolis.
Adam Banks, who had actually been a Hawk when this all began, was now in the minor leagues, with a very good chance of going all the way. Charlie was a coach for younger kids while he worked through med school. and the list went on. Everyone was doing well. But Mr. Ducksworth was getting bored. His famous Mighty Ducks were ending their hockey careers. He needed something new, more spark. but there was no miracle to be worked with hockey in Minnesota anymore. Ever since the Ducks every kid wanted to play hockey, and they all learned with style. No, his fame through hockey was over. There must be something else.
He hopped into his BMW and began driving down the street. When he had a problem, he solved it. He needed to solve this problem. Suddenly, the answer hit him. He was driving by a court filled with trashy looking boys playing pick-up basketball. It was a junky court, in need of painting and the boys looked like they were in need of help too. This, though Ducksworth, is my team. Nobody plays basketball in this part of the area. If they could win. another miracle by Ducksworth.
"Hey boys!" Ducksworth called. The boys elbowed each other a little as if to say, who the hell is this cook? "Ever considered trying out for the Division 5 Basketball team?"
"There is no division 5 basketball team, man," the one who was obviously the leader said, "and man we don't want to play by your rules. So you just get off our court and we might be nice to you."
"First you gotta let us drive that gig!" another boy pointed at the BMW.
"Just hold on a minute," Mr. Ducksworth shook his head. "Now, tryouts for the team are. tomorrow. in the gym. I'll make a spot for you guys. I'll see you there." Mr. Ducksworth got into his BMW and drove off, leaving the boys stunned. He quickly phoned up Connor Jenkins. He knew that Jenkins would have to help him out with the basketball coaching if he paid him a generous salary. Jenkins' life had fallen apart ever since his wife and his three kids left him. Now he was in debt to his wife, and had to take any job he could find. Plus he knew that Jenkins was an avid basketball player before his injury.
After just one phone call, Ducksworth had his life in order again. Fame was so close he could almost taste it. And it tasted like Duck.