Buttery. Flaky. Gooey on the inside.

Even the aroma of freshly baked butter tarts could not improve Ted Orion's mood. After watching the game, his wife Andrea made them to cheer him up.

They were his favourite dating back to when they had first met. They had met during his junior year of college at Notre Dame. She had worked part-time at a bakery in South Bend, and after every game, she would surprise him with a fresh batch.

Orion wasn't lying when he told Dean Buckley that he would have preferred a loss.

The smaller, slower, and less skilled Blake Bears should have been no match for the Eden Hall JV Warriors. And for the first two periods, they were out manned and out gunned all over the ice.

However, in the third period, the JV team had lost their focus and allowed the Blake Bears to claw their way back from a nine-goal deficit.

The team could score just fine—that wasn't the issue—but there was no defence, especially team defence. Although Julie could have had a few shots, the defence was always out of position, and none of the forwards back-checked.

Orion had anticipated some hick-ups along the way, but nothing like this. No matter how many laps the did or how much he yelled, the team was not responding.

The team had potential as a whole. That wasn't the issue. The problem was that the team as a whole still held onto their little 'duck tricks'—refusing to let go of the past. They didn't understand that only hard work and dedication would work at this level. Eden Hall was Minnesota Prep School Hockey, the best high school hockey league in the country—the best of the best.

Leading the charge against him was former captain Charlie Conway - defying him at every turn. He knew, somehow, if he could get Charlie to fall in line, the rest of the team would follow.

Begrudgingly, Orion could admit to himself that Bombay was right - Conway was the heart of the team. That much was obvious. But this kind, tenderhearted kid Bombay spoke of had been replaced by a moody, brooding teenager.

Orion had thought of calling Bombay for advice. After all, these were his kids. He knew them better than anyone.

He was about to pick up the phone and call Bombay when he remembered their last conversation before Bombay got on that plane destined for California.

"If you need anything, call me, "Bombay said, handing Orion his business card. "Day or night."

Orion rolled his eyes at Bombay. He was taking over coaching Bombay's team. These kids were the reigning Junior Goodwill Games champions, and he was a former NHL player. How hard could it be to coach these kids?

Bombay saw Orion's reaction. "I'm serious, Ted. Day or night."

"I'll be fine, Orion responded gruffly. "Just remember, they're my team now. No interfering."

Orion put the phone down. He couldn't call Bombay now, especially after he had told Bombay numerous times that he didn't want him to interfere with his coaching methods.

Andrea reached over and started to massage Orion's shoulders in an attempt to get him to relax.

"You're so tense, Ted,' Andrea commented. "It's only a game. You've never cared about winning before."

Orion considered mentioning Dean Buckley's comments after the game about the Ducks losing their scholarships but decided against it. There was no point in mentioning it to Andrea; it would only upset her. They were finally in a good place after everything that had happened.

"It's not about winning," Ted replied. "Never has been."

Andrea could see something was bothering him. "I think I saw that one boy's mother in the crowd. Conway right? I could talk to her," Andrea offered.

Orion shook his head no. That was out of the question.

"Don't do that," Orion said in a voice that left no room for argument. "That would just make things worse."

Getting the boy's mother involved was a non-starter. The same was true for Bombay. He couldn't ask Bombay to get involved the second things got difficult. What message would that send to the team?

Hans.

Grabbing his Eden Hall jacket, Ted Orion bolted out of the kitchen and grabbed his keys as he headed for the door.

"Don't wait up for me. I might be awhile."

'Some things never change," Orion thought to himself.

Hans' Sports Shop was an enigma.

With all the chain sporting goods stores like 'Play It Again Sports' and 'Dick's Sporting Goods' popping up left and right, Hans' store remained the same. There wasn't the flashy new equipment or high-tech fibreglass hockey sticks designed to help shoot the puck even harder. Instead, there was an old skate sharper dating back to the 1960s. Hans had filled the shelves with plaques and trophies, and hundreds of pictures adorned the wall. Every square inch told a storey.

"I've been expecting you," a voice called from behind.

Startled, Ted Orion spun around and almost knocked over a display of helmets.

There, Hans stood smiling at him. "Been a long time, Ted."

"Nothing's changed," Orion commented, looking around.

Hans let out a hearty laugh. "So I've been told."

Orion jammed his hands in his pockets as he searched for the right words. "You listen to the game?"

"Seven p.m. sharp. Every Friday night," Hand said. "Sit down, Ted. I'll make some tea."

Orion had begun to protest, but Hans had already disappeared into the back kitchen. Unsure of what to do, Orion browsed the many pictures on the wall until he found the one he was looking for.

'1992 Peewee State Champions'

Orion took a closer look to see if he could recognize his kids. He would never say it out loud, certainly not in front of the team, but he was beginning to think of the team as a whole as 'his kids.' He couldn't explain it.

Upon further inspection, he could pick out each duck: Connie first, followed by Goldberg. Averman was easy to spot as well. Fulton has mostly stayed the same, too. Then it got harder. He was able to spot Banks after a closer look. Then, it was down to Charlie and Guy. Orion figured the blond-haired kid next to Connie had to be Germain, leaving Charlie beside Bombay.

"Nothing but weeds," Hans commented, seeing Orion looking at the picture. "All of them. Growing up so fast."

Orion smiled for a brief second before turning serious. "They're not little kids anymore," Orion said bluntly.

"Pity," Hans sighed as he gently lowered himself onto his favourite armchair. "Now, tell me, what bring you back here after all these years?"

Orion took a chair opposite Hans. "I don't get it," Orion confessed. "Bombay makes it look so easy."

"Some things are not always as they appear," Hans reminded Orion.

Ted drank his tea before saying, "When did you get so wise?"

"I'm Scandinavian," Hans replied dismissively. "So what are you going to do about the team?"

Ted leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He couldn't give up. He needed this job. His family depended on him.

"I thought if I could teach these kids how to play, how to really play, I could be the next Minnesota Miracle Man," Orion admitted.

"What's stopping you?" Hans asked, already knowing the answer.

Orion shook his head. "He won't listen. He's always late and tries to skip drills, and when I try to correct him, it's like I'm talking to a brick wall. But I can see it. The potential is there. Just waiting to be tapped. If I could get him to stop fighting me at every turn..." Orion paused for a moment before finally saying, "I'm not Bombay."

"You're right. You're not," Hans agreed. "And that might be a good thing."

That got Orion's attention. "Could have fooled me. I've seen the looks on their faces every time his name is mentioned," Orion said.

Hans smiled as if remembering something.

"That wasn't always the case," Hans reminded Orion. Hans was going to say more but decided it wasn't his story to tell." Have you considered letting your guard down? Let them see another side of you?" Hans encouraged.

Orion was taken aback. "You're asking me to make myself vulnerable? To Bombay's protege? You remember what he did, right?" Orion asked indigently.

"Bombay's changed," Hans said. "He's not the same man he used to be."

Orion appeared unconvinced. "I dunno," Orion said after a while.

Hans leaned forward and touched Orion on the knee. "He's a lot like you, you know? Just like that small boy I used to know who used to come into my shop to donate his old hockey equipment so others less fortunate could play."

Orion's and Hans' eyes met. "I gotta go," Ted said hastily. "Kalie's waiting for me at home."

With that, Ted Orion rose from his chair and left.

"Goodbye Ted."