The bus load of sleeping Ducks were jolted awake when the bus slammed on
the brakes.
Adam and Charlie went flying into the seats in front of them. Adam automatically put his hands in front of himself to brace for the impact.
His weak wrist did not tolerate the force of his weight and he groaned in pain.
"Is everybody alright?" Coach Orion shouted, sending an angry look in the direction of the bus driver who was profusely apologizing.
One by one, everyone voiced that they were okay. "Let's see that wrist, Banks." Coach Orion ordered.
The coach pressed on the bones carefully until he was satisfied nothing was broken. "We'll keep an eye on it," instructed Orion, "It's swelling already so make sure you get some ice on it when we get inside the hotel." The he added wryly, "We're here."
Up until then, nobody had even noticed. "Unload gang," instructed the coach, and he turned to get off the bus.
Immediately, Adam was swarmed by his teammates. "Are you alright? What happened?" they all asked at once.
He dismissed their concerns quickly. "Are you sure everything is okay?" Julie pressed.
Adam nodded feeling his cheeks grow warm. "Yeah, absolutely."
Julie reluctantly walked off the bus, leaving Adam silently yelling at himself for blowing an opportunity to talk to her.
Outside the bus, she had joined an energetic Portman who had been cooped up on a bus for far too long. He was using his excess energy to put Averman in a headlock.
Banks shook his head, slinging his bag over his shoulder as he went to join his friends.
********** Inside the lobby, it was insanity.
Charlie figured every single team in the tournament had chosen that exact second to arrive.
The team stayed together, checking out the competition while Orion went to register them.
It took all of about twenty seconds until they were approached by two boys in black jackets. Both were tall and thin.
"We heard you all might be coming," one of them said.
"Well, you heard right. Here we are," Portman said in a no nonsense tone.
"I guess you all think you're the big shots," the other guy said. "Having a professional team named after you and all."
"Yeah, maybe we do." Fulton said, and it clearly egged them on. Portman added, "You have a professional hockey team named after you, then come talk to us about how to feel about it."
"We knew you were a bunch of pricks, huh, Darryl?" the first boy said. "You think you can just come here and own the place. Well, just bring it. We're last year's tournament champions. I can't wait to tell everybody back in Michigan we creamed the famous Mighty Ducks."
"Creamed BY the famous Mighty Ducks," Portman challenged, stepping closer to the two boys as if he was going to do it right there on the spot.
Charlie decided it was time he took control of the situation. "Portman, chill, we'll do our talking on the ice."
"I'll do my talking right now." Portman informed his captain.
"They even have girls!" Darryl said, with a certain amount of glee. "Are you guys trying to lose? That's smart. Get eliminated before you have to play us." Then, he looked straight at Julie and said, "But you can call me anytime."
Portman, who needed little incentive anyway, swung. His fist firmly met Darryl's jaw.
What ensued can only be described as mayhem. The two boys started going at it as more boys in black jackets ran to assist their teammate.
Security and hotel management swarmed, a as a screaming Coach Orion tried to corral his team. He dragged them all outside and then cut loose.
"Do you guys TRY to forfeit every mental edge you have? Do you sit around and think up ways? You really must!" His face was getting redder every second.
"Go up to your rooms!" he continued, thrusting keys at the players. "Our fist game is tomorrow. We aren't practicing, but I want you all to do some conditioning tonight. Then, it's bed. And I mean it! And room however you want, except have to Julie and Connie room together and I don't want Fulton and Portman together. Now, go!"
The team scattered. He watched them flee then yelled as an afterthought, "And Adam, ice that wrist!!!"
Adam and Charlie went flying into the seats in front of them. Adam automatically put his hands in front of himself to brace for the impact.
His weak wrist did not tolerate the force of his weight and he groaned in pain.
"Is everybody alright?" Coach Orion shouted, sending an angry look in the direction of the bus driver who was profusely apologizing.
One by one, everyone voiced that they were okay. "Let's see that wrist, Banks." Coach Orion ordered.
The coach pressed on the bones carefully until he was satisfied nothing was broken. "We'll keep an eye on it," instructed Orion, "It's swelling already so make sure you get some ice on it when we get inside the hotel." The he added wryly, "We're here."
Up until then, nobody had even noticed. "Unload gang," instructed the coach, and he turned to get off the bus.
Immediately, Adam was swarmed by his teammates. "Are you alright? What happened?" they all asked at once.
He dismissed their concerns quickly. "Are you sure everything is okay?" Julie pressed.
Adam nodded feeling his cheeks grow warm. "Yeah, absolutely."
Julie reluctantly walked off the bus, leaving Adam silently yelling at himself for blowing an opportunity to talk to her.
Outside the bus, she had joined an energetic Portman who had been cooped up on a bus for far too long. He was using his excess energy to put Averman in a headlock.
Banks shook his head, slinging his bag over his shoulder as he went to join his friends.
********** Inside the lobby, it was insanity.
Charlie figured every single team in the tournament had chosen that exact second to arrive.
The team stayed together, checking out the competition while Orion went to register them.
It took all of about twenty seconds until they were approached by two boys in black jackets. Both were tall and thin.
"We heard you all might be coming," one of them said.
"Well, you heard right. Here we are," Portman said in a no nonsense tone.
"I guess you all think you're the big shots," the other guy said. "Having a professional team named after you and all."
"Yeah, maybe we do." Fulton said, and it clearly egged them on. Portman added, "You have a professional hockey team named after you, then come talk to us about how to feel about it."
"We knew you were a bunch of pricks, huh, Darryl?" the first boy said. "You think you can just come here and own the place. Well, just bring it. We're last year's tournament champions. I can't wait to tell everybody back in Michigan we creamed the famous Mighty Ducks."
"Creamed BY the famous Mighty Ducks," Portman challenged, stepping closer to the two boys as if he was going to do it right there on the spot.
Charlie decided it was time he took control of the situation. "Portman, chill, we'll do our talking on the ice."
"I'll do my talking right now." Portman informed his captain.
"They even have girls!" Darryl said, with a certain amount of glee. "Are you guys trying to lose? That's smart. Get eliminated before you have to play us." Then, he looked straight at Julie and said, "But you can call me anytime."
Portman, who needed little incentive anyway, swung. His fist firmly met Darryl's jaw.
What ensued can only be described as mayhem. The two boys started going at it as more boys in black jackets ran to assist their teammate.
Security and hotel management swarmed, a as a screaming Coach Orion tried to corral his team. He dragged them all outside and then cut loose.
"Do you guys TRY to forfeit every mental edge you have? Do you sit around and think up ways? You really must!" His face was getting redder every second.
"Go up to your rooms!" he continued, thrusting keys at the players. "Our fist game is tomorrow. We aren't practicing, but I want you all to do some conditioning tonight. Then, it's bed. And I mean it! And room however you want, except have to Julie and Connie room together and I don't want Fulton and Portman together. Now, go!"
The team scattered. He watched them flee then yelled as an afterthought, "And Adam, ice that wrist!!!"
