And…the usual disclaimer: Disney owns the Mighty Ducks. The name, the characters, Orion, the Varsity players, and Linda are not mine. However, I do own any characters you don't recognize…i.e. Ken's parents, Ken's grandfather, Elaine, Brian, Sky, Tony, Sonja, etc.
Cripes…I can't believe it's taken me this long to get this chapter written! Jeez…it's not even that good. At least I don't think it is. But the next chapter will be better, I promise. It's already half written, so it shouldn't take a month to post!
Thanks to everyone who's been reviewing. You guys totally make my day!
Several hours later, Ken sat in the kitchen of his house, still reeling from his encounter with the ever-excited Don Tibbles, and his mind racing with thoughts of the offer Tibbles had made him.
The recruitment committee for the Junior Goodwill Games wanted him to play hockey. Ken still couldn't fully grasp the idea. The Goodwill Games was the most prestigious multi-sport competition next to the Olympics, and the Junior Goodwill Games would display the most promising up and coming athletes in the world. Ken knew he couldn't compete in the figure skating competition, only skaters who competed on the Junior level could compete at the Games and Ken hadn't skated as a Junior in three years. Not that he would want to skate at the Games; at this point he just didn't know.
But hockey…? Ken had never played hockey up until that day. But Don Tibbles had shown up with a bag stuffed full of Hendrix Hockey gear for Ken; skates, pads, helmet, gloves, jerseys, the works. So with nothing more than a lack of options, Ken tried them on.
His first few minutes on hockey skates were very overwhelming. Ken hadn't been on skates in three months, so he would have been feeling shaky anyway. But then there was the more exaggerated curve to the hockey blades. At several points, Ken felt himself shift his weight just a bit too much and pitch forward or backward onto the ice.
But after a few minutes, Ken began to get used to the new feeling and found some comfort in the edges. He raced up and down the ice, enjoying the cool breeze and the speed and suddenly began to realize this might be exactly what he was looking for…
One week of training later, Ken was on his way to Minnesota to meet the rest of Team USA.
"Ken. Ken!"
For the second time in two days, Ken awoke to Adam shaking him.
"What?" mumbled Ken, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and looking at the clock. 5:15. Adam's alarm wasn't set to ring for another hour and fifteen minutes.
"Is something wrong?" Adam asked, a concerned parent look on his face. It was then Ken registered where he was. He was still sitting on the end of his bed, leaning against the wall, flashlight beside him.
"Yeah, I'm fine." Ken told him, scooting to the opposite end of his bed. "I had a little trouble sleeping and I decided to read for a while and I guess I just fell asleep. I'm okay." He reassured Adam, who had returned to his own bed, but still looked worried and a little sheepish.
"Sorry." He told Ken. "It was just really weird waking up and seeing you propped up against the wall like that. You looked kinda…dead."
Ken laughed. "I promise I'll let you know when I'm dead." He told Adam, who laughed, clicked off the overhead light and rolled over onto his side. Within minutes, his slowed, even breathing told Ken he was asleep.
Ken slipped out of bed, grabbed a sweatshirt and his keys and quietly made his way out of the dorm.
Once at the rink, Ken grabbed the box of figure skates out of his locker and carried them to a rinkside bench. He ran two laps around the outside of the boards and stretched a bit. He then spent everyone ounce of energy he had remembering everything about ice skating jumps. He started attempting the most basic ones off the ice, concentrating on remembering the technique for each. He worked his way up to a single Axel off the ice and then put his skates on, ready to try it all on ice.
After three laps around the ice, Ken felt he was ready. He started with the most basic jump, a Waltz jump, but fell on his first attempt. He took another lap around the ice, trying to collect himself.
"It's just a Waltz jump, Ken." He told himself. "It's half a revolution. It's not difficult. You can do this."
Ken readied himself for another try and was able to land on his feet this time, though it was shaky. He repeated the process with each different single revolution jump, until he was able to land all but the Axel. He was ready to continue trying when he caught sight of the clock at the end of the rink and felt his stomach drop. 7:20. He was going to be late for class.
Ken raced off the ice, stashed his skates in the back of his locker, and bolted back to his dorm. He pulled on a pair of jeans and a long sleeved shirt, grabbed his coat and backpack, and sprinted to Eden Hall's main building.
He dashed into his first class and slid into his seat, muttering an apology to Mrs. Willis, clutching the stitch in his side and desperately trying to catch his breath.
"Where were you?" Adam whispered from the seat behind Ken, poking him in the back.
"At the rink." Ken answered, breathlessly, digging his notebook out of his backpack.
"Gentlemen, anything you wish to share about Hesse's views of nihilism in Siddhartha?" Mrs. Willis's voice was sharp.
"No ma'am." They both answered and Ken stuck his head in his book, wishing he could start the day over.
As was the usual for Friday, the Ducks had a two hour practice session. Orion had decided early on in the off-season that the Ducks' usual method of practicing, "playing or playing around" according to Goldberg, was not going to cut it in the world of high school hockey. Thus the Ducks had practice three afternoons a week during the off-season and Orion had showed no sign of letting up from his strict regiment they had seen during the hockey season.
Typically Ken had little problem getting through practice sessions, but after his time on the ice this morning, especially after the falls, he was having some problems.
"Pick up the speed, Wu!" Orion yelled after Averman flew past him, stole the puck and nearly scored on Julie. Ken groaned, breathing hard. He was trying to pick up the speed, but his legs didn't seem to be getting the message.
"Are you all right, Ken?" Adam asked him as they made their way to the locker room after practice. "You seemed at little…"
"Out of it?" Ken offered. "Yeah, I'm just really tired. I didn't get a whole lot of sleep last night."
Adam nodded and Ken was thankful he let the subject drop.