The Mighty Ducks Imagines

Poetry

Poetry. Not exactly a strength among the Ducks - though Guy's poems to Connie have proven to be rather nauseating at times. At the start of the school year, we got a new English teacher. Mr Flanagan. He's only the second in this preppy hell-hole (the first being our music teacher Miss Spence). One of the first things he did was show us Dead Poets Society. It's obvious he's trying too hard to be like Mr Keating - but we appreciate the effort.

At the start of the week, Mr Flanagan gave us the most daunting task of our lives. We were given until the end of the week to write an original poem. Now that the end of the week has arrived, we must recite them in front of the entire class. Totally original, definitely not taken from the movie. Poor Kenny is so petrified that he got me to forge a signature on a fake doctors note. Dwayne just finished his lengthy poem about farm life back in Texas. It was just what I expected from the cowboy - kinda makes me want to go there. This is one of the few classes where everyone on the team is together. So, we share looks and some fake gag as Guy wraps up his poem.

"She is the sun, she is the sky. I see that beauty in her eyes." Guy recites his final lines and gives Connie a wink.

"Get a room!" Charlie chirps from the front row as others clap.

"We get it, you're in love!" I join him making Guy playfully roll his eyes on his way back to his seat.

"It was beautiful, Guy." Mr Flanagan shoots us a look before continuing. "I didn't expect the people in relationships to heckle that one."

"They've been together since we were like 3." Charlie sets me up to finish the story.

"Yeah, we've been doing this for years."

"Alrighty then... Luis, step up to the plate. Your turn." Dumbfounded with no response, Mr Flanagan quickly moves things along.

With his name being called, Luis strolls to the front of the class with a certain smugness that he carries when he thinks he's about to do something smart (it's always dumb). Whispers grow with each step he takes. This should be good.

"I..." He pauses as a smirk creeps onto his face. "Like big butts and I-"

"No!" Mr Flanagan yells to cut him off as the class cracks up. "While I appreciate the comedy, it lacks originality. Do you have anything else to present?"

"...No."

"Then you can redo it on Monday. Fail to present something original and I'll present you with an F. Go sit yourself down."

"Good job, Speedy McGee." Russ smacks his back as he goes to sit down.

"Okay, moving swiftly along. Y/N, front and centre."

I wasn't overly thrilled about doing this poem - poetry has never really been my thing. Well, I've never thought about it. I help write most of the Bash Brigade songs but this is different. Being out of my depth, I struggled to find a subject. So, I did what I assume a handful of the team have done. I wrote about my favourite pass time, my passion, the love of my life. With a deep and slightly shaky breath, I face the class poem in hand.

"Ice and stage, I rule them all. Skates or shoes, you'll never see me fall. Deafening whistles with missed calls, or lighters looking like stars, that electrifying feeling is ours. Home and freedom are one and the same. That's how I feel when I'm playing the game." I look up to clapping and a brief standing ovation from the band. "Thanks, boys."

"Clear theme through and through. Not a bad effort. Not bad at all." Mr Flanagan commends my efforts.

"Thanks. Took me about 5 minutes this morning." I admit nonchalantly.