𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑦 𝑑𝑢𝑐𝑘𝑠 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 - 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑚𝑝𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 - 𝑏𝑜𝑜𝑘 2

Chapter 2

The next morning, I woke up from the pull out feeling sore as ever. I groaned as I looked at the watch on my wrist which read 9:27 A.M. Pulling myself out of bed, I put on a shirt and proper pants, then went out into the main shop area.

As I hobbled through the shop, I looked at the hockey gear. Pads, jerseys, skates, goalie gear, pucks, etc. Since no one was around, I had decided to go in the back to sharpen skates. Well at least try to remember how to sharpen skates from my teenage days.

Taking a deep inhale, running my hands through my brunet hair, I grabbed a pair of skates. Securing one on to the machine before turning it on. Putting the blade of the skate to the roller, the blade got sharpened. I concentrated and started out slow then I moved my arm. The machine sent me sailing down to the floor, making me land on my side while the secured skate flipped around the machine on the attached arm. Groaning in pain, propping my hand against the leg of the workbench, I pushed myself back up from the floor, standing in front of the machine, brushing myself off.

I looked around for a pair of glasses to put on my face when I found a pair of big safety glasses nearby. Continuing my work, I had my glasses on my face while sharpening, not wanting to go through another accident.

"Your doing well for how long you haven't done it!" Jan yelled, snapping my head up I saw Jan in the doorway watching me. He chuckled before coming over to me while I turned off the machine.

"Ya, I'd figure I'd rekindle an old skill." Nodding my head, I smiled at Jan who exchanged the same back.

"Well then, I guess I'll give you more!" He smiled, then walked over to a rack of skates to sharpen. Turning on the machine again, I continued to do my work.

Jan eventually brought me breakfast before I went back to work. Then Jan pushed in another rack of skates. I didn't notice him standing in front of me for a minute, so I looked up, stopping what I was doing.

"You don't have to do that now." He said sympathetically.

"Oh, thanks." I nodded.

"We have a customer waiting, go and help then come back and do them." He clasped his hands behind his back before walking off.

I thought he was being sympathetic at first but I guess I mistook his words. Taking a deep exhale, I walked into the main shop area where a shorter older man with grey curly hair in a suit, held and examined a hockey stick, "May I help you?" The man turned around, knocking the butt of the stick into the others on the rack, almost making them fall off but he caught it quick enough with his hand. Rolling my eyes, I placed my hands on my hips.

"Ooh! Ah! Sorry there, almost got away from me," He then turned to look at me, placing the button the stick on the floor, he examined me. "Hi, oh wow yeah, you look great." He mumbled, probably not wanting me to hear but I could.

"Thanks," I said dryly.

"I'm Don Tibbles, Senior VP of Hendrix Hockey, how's the knee?" He walked over to me with the hockey stick. "I have a doctor in Los Angeles who might wanna take a look at that. He's doing incredible things with baboon ligaments." We then shook hands.

"Hendrix Hockey, huh?" Taking the stick from Mr. Tibbles, I went to put it back. "Now what does Hendrix Hockey want?"

"I want you, Gordon. I want Team USA to be a household name," He walked over to me. "I want you to become synonymous with Hendrix and Hendrix synonymous with winning." He playfully punched my chest.

My eyes went wide, "Woah, wait a minute," I stuttered and fumbled with my words. "This is a joke, right?" Turning, walking away from Mr. Tibbles.

"It's no joke. This is the real thing, Gordon." Mr. Tibbles smiled which made me turn to face him again.