AUTHOR'S NOTES: Wow guys! Thanks for all the reviews, so early on too! I was kind of worried y'all wouldn't like this story because it's just D2 with Kaley. But thanks for liking it! And balisticbubble thanks for what you said about Kaley not being a Mary Sue! I worked real hard to keep her out of that category. Glad it worked. I cut out the part about McGill and Larson getting pantsed and tied to the tree because, although I find it very funny, it made the chapter too long.

A NEW TEAM – CHAPTER TWO – A SECOND CHANCE

Days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into nearly two months. Gordon's knee healed, and he spent his time sharpening skates, seeing the Ducks and wishing he were still with the Waves. Not to mention trying to pay Kaley's seemingly unending pile of bills that her mother's insurance hadn't covered. There weren't many of them, just enough to annoy Gordon and make the hospital mad.

One Friday afternoon, Gordon was mulling over all this while sharpening the umpteenth pair of skates of the day. He was so absorbed in his thoughts that Jan had to slap him to get his attention.

"You don't have to do that right now," Jan said as the sharpener whined to a halt. "You have a customer. Go and help him. Then get back to work."

"All right," Gordon took his safety glasses off and limped out to the main area of the shop, grateful for the break. His eyes fell on a short man with curly gray hair looking at a hockey stick. "Can I help you?" Gordon asked. I must say that a million times a day.

Startled, the man turned around and dropped the hockey stick back onto the rack, where it knocked a bunch of others over. "Oh, sorry, got away from me," he quickly apologized. He stepped back and looked at Gordon as if evaluating him. "Wow, you look great," the man said. "Much better than your pictures."

"Thanks," Gordon said, not knowing how else to respond. Who is this guy, and what does he want? He thought.

"I'm Don Tibbles, Senior VP of Hendrix Hockey Apparel," the man introduced himself, shaking Gordon's hand. "How's the knee? I know a doctor in LA who might want to look at it. He's doing great things with bamboo ligaments."

This Don Tibbles was beginning to get on Gordon's nerves. "It's fine," he said curtly, walking over to the rack and beginning to straighten it up. "So what exactly is it that you want, Mr. Tibbles?"

"I want you, Gordon," Tibbles said.

Gordon placed the last stick into its space and turned around. "Excuse me?"

"That's right," Tibbles said. "I want you to coach Team USA for the Junior Goodwill Games. I want you to be synonymous with winning and winning to be synonymous with Hendrix."

"You're joking, right?" Gordon asked. "You want me to coach Team USA?"

Tibbles nodded with a smile. "Your friend Jan's been pitching you for months. Gordon, what you did with the Ducks was magic. And we-by we I mean me, Hendrix Hockey Apparel, and your country-need that magic."

Gordon could recognize a perfectly prepared sales pitch when he heard it, and was about to respond when Kaley entered the room. "Dad!" She called. "Could you help-" She stopped and looked from Gordon to Tibbles. "Oh, never mind. I'll ask later." She turned to leave.

"No need," Tibbles said. "Kaley, I have a question for you.

"How do you know my name?" Kaley asked.

"Through your former hockey coach, Joel Evans," Tibbles said. "Kaley, how would you like to represent your country in the Junior Goodwill Games?"

Kaley looked at him skeptically. "What's your angle?"

Gordon stifled a laugh. She'll be a great lawyer someday, he thought.

"There's no angle," Tibbles said. "Kaley, I'm Don Tibbles, Senior VP of Hendrix Hockey Apparel. For the past six months, I've been traveling the country looking for the best young hockey players to join Team USA for the Junior Goodwill Games next month. I talked to Coach Evans in Baltimore, and he highly recommended you."

Kaley looked a bit flustered. "But…I'm all out of practice!" She said. "I mean, I haven't played in about two years!"

"Hockey's like riding a bike, Kaley," Tibbles said smoothly. "And there will be practices before you head out. Coach Evans showed me some videos of your playing. It was quite impressive."

"I've already been hit up to coach, Kay," Gordon said. "So you're going to the Games, whether as an athlete or as a spectator."

Kaley smiled. "I'd much rather go as an athlete," she said. "Count me in!"

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Tibbles asked. "Let's round up those Ducks!"

"Gordon," Jan handed Gordon the Duck whistle. "Use this."

Gordon took the whistle and grinned. The Ducks were back.

Thirteen-year-old Charlie Conway sat in his bedroom, doing homework. Or at least, pretending to do homework. He'd discovered that locking himself in his bedroom for hours on end was the best way to avoid his stepfather, Scott. Scott was the latest in Charlie's mothers many poor decisions in men. Charlie supposed he shouldn't be so cynical. If not for his mother's bad taste in boyfriends, he would never have been born. Scott wasn't exactly mean; Charlie just didn't get along with him.

A weird sound resonated from the sidewalk below. "Hey, Charlie!"

Coach Bombay! Charlie thought excitedly, all thoughts of Scott and homework quickly forgotten. He ran to his window and hastily opened it.

"Hey!" Coach Bombay said. "You wanna play some hockey?"

A few minutes later, Charlie was off rollerblading down the sidewalk. He couldn't believe it! The Ducks were going to be Team USA for the Junior Goodwill Games!

The first place he stopped was school. Jesse Hall, the team's enforcer, always played street hockey there after school. Charlie blew the Duck whistle and rattled the fence. "Jesse!"

Jesse turned around. "Spazway! What's cookin'?"

"Jesse, we're back!" Charlie announced excitedly.

Jesse bladed over to the fence. "Whaddaya mean?" He asked.

"OK," Charlie said. "Coach Bombay just came by my apartment and told me that we, the Ducks, have been chosen to be Team USA for the Junior Goodwill Games!"

"No way!" Jesse said. "Come on, Charlie, you're playing me!"

Charlie shook his head emphatically. "No way would I joke about this, Jesse," he said. "I'm totally serious! Coach sent me out to round everyone else up."

"Well, then," Jesse vaulted over the fence. "I'm in!"

"Where should we go now?" Charlie asked.

"General Cinema," Jesse looked at his watch. "Averman should still be there."

Lester Averman sighed as he took the millionth ticket stub of the day. The red-haired, freckle-faced, bespectacled boy had scored a summer job at the Mall of America's General Cinema, and he was so glad summer was almost over. Taking ticket stubs wasn't exactly exciting. Plus, the uniform looked dorky.

A strange sound made Averman jerk his head up. Jesse and Charlie were standing in front of him with their rollerblades on. "Averman! Let's go!" Charlie called.

"Charlie, I'm working!" Averman said, grateful for the distraction. "I'm not off for another hour!"

"Forget work!" Jesse said. "This is way better! Did you rollerblade here?"

It was an unusual question, but Averman said, "Um, yeah."

"Get your blades and let's go!" Charlie insisted. "We'll tell you all about it!"

Connie Moreau pushed her long braid over her shoulder and looked over the lake. "It's so peaceful here," she sighed.

"Mmm," her boyfriend Guy Germaine agreed. "You know, the last time we were here, Jesse and Averman interrupted us right as I was about to kiss you."

Connie turned to face him. "I don't see them anywhere now."

"Neither do I," Guy began to pull her closer.

Quaaaack.

Connie pulled away from Guy and looked over her shoulder. Charlie, Jesse, and Averman were all standing there. "The quack attack is back, Jack!" Averman called, waving them over.

Connie narrowed her eyes. "Have you guys been watching us the whole time?"

"Just get your rollerblades and come with us!" Charlie said.

"Come on, Guy!" Connie called, running over to her teammates.

Guy sighed. "Guys! I was this close!"

Greg Goldberg took a rag out of his apron and wiped down his third table. Two more to go, he thought. Then I can get out of here. Having parents who ran their own deli had its advantages and disadvantages. An advantage was that he got to eat all the falafels he wanted, but a disadvantage was having to work for them. A big advantage, however, was that he got money for it.

"GOLDBERG!" A chorus of voices sounded. Goldberg saw the Ducks pounding on the window. He ran to the door and opened it. "Hey, Team, what's happening?"

"Get your rollerblades," Averman said, "and prepare to be Team USA's goalie!"

Goldberg first felt disbelief, which must have showed on his face, because Connie asked, "You will do it, won't you?"

Goldberg decided to play his teammates a little bit. "Aw, guys, I dunno," he said. "I mean, I've got work, and school will be starting, and I'm just not sure…"

The Ducks were starting to look absolutely crestfallen, and Goldberg couldn't keep it up. "I mean, I'm just not sure how I could pass it up!" He said with a smile.

The team gave cheers of relief as Goldberg ran back to the restaurant to get his rollerblades.

Adam Banks could not be criticized for lack of ambition. For two years, he had been out of playing hockey. But he'd continued to keep in practice as much as he could with an old cardboard goalie that had to be older than dirt. It had belonged to Adam's older brother, Hal, before it had been passed to Adam.

"He triple dekes up to the goalie, he shoots, he scores!" Adam said triumphantly, doing double duty as player and sportscaster.

The sound of the Duck whistle startled Adam from his game. "Hey, Cake-Eater, wanna play some real hockey?" Jesse asked in a friendly tease.

"Yeah!" Adam rollerbladed over to his friends. "When?"

"Seven weeks." Goldberg said. "We're Team USA!"

"Wait," Adam said. "You mean, like, Junior Goodwill Games Team USA?"

"Who else?"  Guy asked.

"All of us?" Adam asked.

"Only if you'll jump on this bandwagon." Connie said.

"Heck yeah!" Adam said, joining his team. "This is an international competition! We're up against the world!"

"Bring it on!" Goldberg said confidently. "We're ready." Just then his rollerblades his the curb and he tumbled down a grassy hill, right into a family's picnic.

"Well, some of us might be ready," Connie said, looking down the hill.

"Good thing all he's gotta do is man the goal," Jesse laughed.

"Fulton!"

At the sound of his name, Fulton Reed looked up from the book he was reading. All of the Ducks were rollerblading towards him. "Hey, Ducks!" He said, putting the book aside. "What's all this?"

"Whatcha reading?" Jesse asked.

"Hamlet," Fulton responded. "A very dull, dreary work of literature."

"Say no more." Averman hauled Fulton to his feet. "Your dull, dreary life is about to get a whole lot better."

Gordon and Kaley stood on the curb where the Ducks were supposed to meet them. Gordon was somewhat depressed that five of his original players wouldn't be joining them. Tammy Duncan had gone back to figure skating, which Gordon decided was a good thing. She'd never belonged in hockey. Her brother Tommy had become a short track speed skater. Jesse's brother Terry was only ten-too young to compete. Tibbles had gotten no response from Peter Mark, and Dave Karp had moved to New Jersey and quit hockey. But Gordon was ecstatic Kaley could go. He didn't want to have this experience and not be able to share it with her.

"Is that the Duck whistle?" Kaley asked.

Gordon listened to the sound coming from around the corner. "Yep. That's it."

Charlie and the Ducks rounded the corner, chanting "Quack, quack, quack, quack!"

"Hi, Ducks!" Gordon greeted them. "I really missed you guys. You ready to fly?"

"YEAH!" Came the deafening chorus.

Before Gordon could say anything else, a limo pulled up to the curb.

"Who's that?" Fulton asked.

"Definitely not from this part of town," Jesse observed.

The back door of the limo opened and Tibbles got out. "Hi, kids!" He said cheerfully. "I'm Don Tibbles, Senior VP of Hendrix Hockey Apparel. Anyone want a card?"

It took all of Gordon's self-control not to roll his eyes. "Wait here," he told the enthralled Ducks and got into the limo with Tibbles.

"Nice wheels," Gordon said, remembering the limousine he'd been provided with after losing his license for drunk driving two years ago. "I used to ride around in one of these."

Tibbles handed him a paper. "This is your endorsement contract for Hendrix."

"Endorsement?" Gordon asked, looking over the paper. "What does Hendrix want with me? I'm just a coach!"

"Gordon!" Tibbles exclaimed. "Today, coaches have images. I sell you, you sell me, we both make money."

"Don't get me wrong," Gordon said. "I don't have anything against making money-"

"Not money, Gordon," Tibbles handed him another paper. "A lot of money."

Gordon turned the amount over in his mind for a few minutes. He didn't want to get too caught up in this. It had been his downfall before, and he'd fallen hard. He didn't want that to happen again. But the money would more than pay off Kaley's medical bills, and that would end the close relationship Gordon had developed with Baltimore General Hospital. He turned to Tibbles. "Got a pen?"