The Mighty Ducks Novel

Penalty Shot '93

"What about Charlie?" Gordon asked again.

It was as if nothing seemed that ridiculous any more. After all, six weeks ago they were the world's most incompetent hockey team. And today? They were playing for the state champi onship. What the heck? their expressions seemed to say. Let Charlie take the shot!

Gordon pulled Charlie off to one side. "You been practicing your triple dekes?" he asked.

Charlie nodded.

"Then you're all set," said Gordon. "You may make it. You may not. But Charlie, look around. We're here. We're in the championship. Who ever thought we'd do that? Remember every second of it, every sound. One.. two... three... triple deke. Take your best shot." He put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "I believe in you, Charlie. Win or lose."

"All right, Charlie!" said Peter.

"You're our man!" shouted Jesse.

"Let's go!" yelled Connie.

Charlie smiled. "Thanks, Coach."

Charlie skated out to the red line. The ice was empty except for the ref and the Hawks goalie.

"Char-lie! Char-lie! Char-lie! Char-lie!" chanted the Ducks.

Charlie skated in a circle around the puck be fore coming to a full stop. He stared down the joa at the goalie, who had dropped into his crouch.

The ref threw a hand signal to Charlie. The countdown had begun. Charlie took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. It was now or never as the ref signaled him to start.

Charlie made another circle around the puck, built up some speed, then charged at it. The puck wobbled unsteadily against his stick.

One...

Twenty feet from the goal, Charlie faked to his left. The goalie shifted a step.

Two ..

Fake right, Charlie told himself, back to my forehand. Just like I practiced it. The Hawks goalie committed to his left.

Three...

Charlie shot the puck. The goalie dove, throwing his body in front of the puck. Charlie sucks in his breath.

The crowd roared!

The game was over. Charlie couldn't believe it. He had done it!

Ducks 5, Hawks 4.

The Ducks had won the state championship!

Several weeks later Gordon stood at the bus stop holding a bag filled with brand-new hockey gear, Instead of sending resumes to other Minnesota law firms, Gordon had decided to accept an invitation from an old friend to try out with a minor league club.

The Ducks had all turned out to see him off.

"Don't take any bad dives," Peter told Gordon.

"Just remember," added Jesse. "Keep your head up."

"Yeah, cake-eater," teased Banks.

"Remember," said Fulton, "concentration, not strength."

"And for crying out loud," said Averman, "soft hands." Gordon smiled and shook his head.

"Anything else?" he asked.

"Yeah," Charlie said. "Have fun out there." Then Charlie reached up and gave Gordon a hug.

"I must be crazy," Gordon told Casey as she hugged him next. "A tryout in the minors. I'll be up against kids half my age."

"Just have a good tryout," said Casey. "One step at a time."

"You're right," Gordon agreed.

Gordon kissed Casey. The Ducks whooped and let out a chorus of razzes.

The bus pulled up and swung open its doors. Gordon climbed up the steps, and the doors whooshed closed.

Suddenly the doors swung open, and Gordon popped out his head. "No matter what," he reminded them, "I'll be back for next season. We've got a title to defend!"

The Ducks cheered and waved as the doors closed and the bus pulled away.

And they continued to cheer-even as the bus headed out of the city toward the open road.