Disclaimer:

Dear Roxie,

We are sorry, but your 5,405th attempt to gain ownership of the Mighty Ducks has failed. We still own them.

Sincerely Yours,
Disney.

Damn.

Chapter 7

Okay…I Think Practice Was a Good Idea

Julie looked up at him, her eyes meeting Adam's. He gazed back, seeing something different in her eyes. He swallowed hard leaning down. Her lips parted slightly as she closed her eyes and craned her neck to meet him halfway. Adam held his breath in anticipation. Their lips were inches apart and getting closer.

Suddenly, a light from the balcony interrupted their moment. Adam and Julie jerked apart, shielding their eyes from the intense beam. They heard a shout from the cause of the light.

"Cake-Eater, Cat Lady is that you?" Adam cursed Charlie's timing.

"Yeah, it's us! What's up Spazway?"

"You'd better get in here, Ms. McKay is making rounds. Lights out in five!" Adam snuck a glance at Julie.

"We'd better get back."

She nodded in agreement. "I'll see you tomorrow, Adam."

Banks watched as she walked back to her dorm. Sighing at the brushat oppurtunity, Adam leaned backin frustration against the tree.

The afternoon of the Iceland game, Adam was a bit nervous. If the team played as tough as they looked during the press conference, Team USA was in for a difficult game. Adam looked around at his teammates, knowing everyone would have to be on the top of their game for them to pull this off. Connie was standing in front of the trainer's table taping her stick, Jesse was listening to his headphones, head bobbing to the music. Adam glanced at Portman and Fulton who were talking intensely. Adam stared curiously. Normally, they were the loudest, most rambunctious before games, butting heads and smashing fists. Adam leaned back in his locker and closed his eyes, meditating to relax.

His peaceful trance was interrupted as Coach Bombay announced his arrival, striding confidently into the locker room. Adam's eyes snapped open and he looked inquiringly at his coach. Bombay looked like he stepped straight out of the cover of GQ magazine and was coaching just for kicks. He was dressed in an expensive-looking suit, crisp dress shirt, and a sharp tie. His hair was swept back from his forehead with gel, a far cry from the normal bedhead look Bombay resorted to. He smiled good-naturedly at the jibes dished out from the surprised team. As Bombay turned to finalize the roster, Portman and Fulton approached him. Whatever they said concerned Coach because as they left, Bombay wore a slight frown on his face.

Team USA trumped into the locker room with Adam bringing up the rear. Iceland thouroughly man-handled them with a twelve to one final score. The game had been bad from the get-go with Portman being ejected three seconds into the game. During the first two periods, Iceland dominated, scoring three goals in the first two minutes all while throwing Team USA around like rag dolls. Bombay took pity on Goldberg in the third period, pulling him out. Ten seconds later, he was back in. Verbal cheap shots from Olaf Sanderson and Gunner Stahl prompted Julie to take a cheap shot of her own, and the ref provided the third shot in the trio, tossing Julie out.

Adam leaned against his locker with Julie next to him. He had scored the only goal for the USA. As he rubbed his right wrist, a flash of pain shot through the joint, courtesy of Olaf Sanderson.

Adam carried the puck down the left wing side, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted an Iceland defender bearing from the right side. Spinning quickly, he avoided the collision. Nearing the Iceland goal, Adam faked far post before shooting around the glove side.

"Haha! We got one!" Adam tapped his stick on the goal, taunting the Iceland goalie. Suddenly, a spasm of pain seized his arm as Olaf Sanderson broke his stick over Adam's right wrist. Doubled over, clutching his hand, Adam assured the rest of the team he was okay before removing the glove. As he rotated his wrist, pain shot through. Thankfully, the buzzer sounded,signalling the end of the game.

"Are you okay?" Adam saw the concerned expression on Julie's face and realized his was slightly grimacing from the pain.

He nodded slowly and turned away. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Julie shoot him a doubtful look but brushed it off.

What little conversation that was occuring was silenced as Coach Bombay stormed into the locker room. A appearance of utmost fury was plastered on his face, and he stared at the team, eyes blazing. Slowly he paced the locker room floor.

"Twelve to one…twelve to one. You know what word comes to mind?" Bombay emphasized his words as he walked in front of them, staring down the team, daring them to respond. "PATHETIC!"

Eyes dropped down to the ground as he continued. "You were brought here to play hockey…"

"What about you?" Jesse's voice cut through the silence of Team USA.

"What about me Jesse?" Bombay challenged.

Julie spoke up from next to Adam, "Coach Stansson knew everything about us. They were ready for us!"

"Yeah, you spend all your time driving around in convertables talking to all those sponsor fools." Luis sneered.

"Or hanging with the Iceland lady." Fulton interjected. Heads snapped to where he stood. This was news to the team. "We saw you two Saturday night."

"Eating ice cream with the enemy, huh, Coach?" Portman accused softly.

"Hey, what I do is none of your business. Is that clear?"

Sensing the end of the tirade, Team USA moved to release themselves from their pads.

"Don't take those pads off." Bombay's voice halted their progress. "We have practice."

Goldberg looked at him incredulously, "Tonight?!"

Yep, tonight. Adam flopped on his bed, thoroughly spent. Bombay had made them do fifty mini-minis before hitting the showers. (A.N. For those of you who don't know, a mini-mini is four sprints on a basketball court from sideline to sideline. Equivalent to about down-and-back on the ice. Thanks to Coach Thomas who once made our team run twenty of those.) Within minutes, he was fast asleep.

Captain Blood has arrived. I really hated how Bombay sold out during D2. It made for a good plot, I admit, but no one likes a sell out as we were reminded in D3 many a time. The sprints kind of reminded me of the Herbie scene in Miracle except a lot less intense. Another awesome hockey movie, I must say. D2 and the 1980 Olympics, coincidence, eh?

Quick shout out to Commander Bubbles, my first reviewer, beautyqueen321, xoXOCutieOXox, and RosieLady for the kick-ass reviews. You guys have no idea what those reviews meant!!! Keep R&R-ing, I love to hear from everyone!

Roxie