This is a project that was actually inspired by a comment left on my Game Changers rewrite series; the comment came from Hallwings, who asked if I would consider doing a rewrite of the first Mighty Ducks movie incorporating Ted Orion somehow. I decided to take that step, but this will all be from Ted's POV, simply because I think he's one of the most fascinating Ducks characters the movies had to offer, even though we only saw him in one film.

I decided I would post the prologue on here, since my Game Changers rewrite saga is wrapping up with the final installment. This story will cover the events of all the Ducks movies, but it will be one story, so I don't know how long it'll be, but I promise, it's going to be pretty heavy-handed and a much longer story than any of the others I've written before. This is a challenge that I'm willing to take up, and I hope I can pull it off.

If you want more, be sure to follow the story and review. This will be cross-posted onto AO3, as well, so you can get it in two different places.

Quack, quack, quack!

Prologue – It's Not Worth Winning If You Can't Win Big

Clang!

The puck impelled off the metal of the goalpost, and everyone in the stadium groaned.

They all watched as the score changed in favor of the other team.

An overtime loss was worse than a regular loss. Anyone who played hockey knew this. But Coach Jack Reilly especially hated it. He didn't like losers. And he didn't want any crybabies, either. He was going to be out for blood next season. He'd never let another state championship go.

"Little Gordon Bombay had the chance . . .!"

Coach shook his head vehemently, his eyes reflecting a sort of heat that every boy on the bench could feel burning into them. But little Teddy Orion winced internally as Coach Reilly swore colorfully before he turned to face him, spitting out, "I should've sent you out there, Teddy! You wouldn't have let it slip! That was a wide-open shot!" He said it loud enough for Teddy's best friend, Gordy, to overhear.

"It's not his fault!" Teddy said insistently. "You can't blame him! There are others on the team, Coach. That's not fair!"

"I don't really care what you think, Orion!" Coach snarled, getting low into his face. "Now, you may have been hopeless a few months ago, but even you could've made that shot!"

Teddy caught Gordy's expression as he despondently skated over to the bench; Teddy could see the tears reflecting in Gordy's eyes. "Don't talk about him like that!"

"Teddy, it is my fault. I missed the shot," Gordy said to him before turning to Coach Reiley. "I'm sorry, Coach."

"'You're sorry!'" mocked Coach Reilly. "You know what I call that? Pathetic! Your old man would've wanted you to win, and you let him down! You let your whole team down! We were counting on you!"

"Stop!" Teddy yelled back.

"You shut your mouth, Orion! Or I'll put you on third-line again!"

"I don't care! I said that's enough!" Teddy yelled, feeling indignant as he stepped protectively in front of his best friend. "Just give him a break! His dad just died a few weeks ago, and –!"

"That's no excuse!" snarled Coach Reilly, his face going from a deep red to a horrible shade of purple; Teddy could almost see the gears turning in his head as he struggled to contain how mad he was, but when Coach got mad, he raged like a storm; the practices where he yelled and screamed at them were the worst, because he would always blame them for every mistake, but he wouldn't give them any tips on how to make it better.

Still, Teddy braved the Goliath standing in front of him, staring Coach Reilly in the eye before yelling, "Fine! I quit!" He turned to Gordy. "Come on, Gordy! Let's go home!" He grabbed his best friend's arm and hauled him away to where their mothers, Rachel and Janet, sat in the stands. Janet was standing up, yelling, "It's all right, Gordy! Good try, sweetheart!"

But Teddy could see his friend felt that that good try wasn't good enough. He watched as Gordy cried. Little did he know that would be the last time he'd ever see his best friend cry ever again. Still, he wrapped an arm around Gordy.

"Don't listen to Coach, Gordy. He's an idiot. That wasn't your fault."

Gordy shook his head. "I failed my dad."

"No, you didn't."

"Yes, Teddy, I did," Gordy snapped, staring back at him with red-rimmed, tear-stained eyes. "I don't even wanna play anymore."

"I'm with you," Teddy said.

"Don't be an idiot, Teddy. You're the best player on the team."

"So what? Reilly's got plenty of other players. I won't make a difference alone. Besides, he can suck it if you ask me. You're my best friend. You quit. I quit, too."

And that was exactly what Teddy did. When Mom and Dad asked him if he wanted to sign up again for hockey, he said, "No. Gordy's not playing. I won't either."

Dad said, "If you kept going, you could've won a scholarship to Eden Hall Academy to play."

"Dad, we have money," Teddy argued back.

"Doesn't matter. Scholarships help in the long run and look good for the future. But if you want to quit, if you don't want to keep playing on the Hawks, then that's your choice, buddy. I can't make it for you."

And Teddy didn't regret it, not once. But that didn't mean he stopped loving the game. He continued to practice outside in his driveway, and it paid off; by the time he was fourteen, his grades were good enough to get him accepted into the Eden Hall Academy on a full scholarship, and he would have Gordy – now going by Gordon – as his roommate.

The only thing was that Gordon hated hockey – at least, that was what he told everyone. He would watch resentfully as Ted – dubbed "Teddy Bear" by his Eden Hall Varsity Warriors (his nickname was a sarcastic oxymoron; on the ice, Ted was a monster whom all opponents feared) – would pack his athletic bag and go off to hockey practice, never once going to any game even though Basil and Ted always invited him to attend the home games.

If only Ted knew that this was just the beginning of Gordon going down a much darker path, one that would consume him for years and years.