![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
last01standingTitle: Too Many Men on the Ice
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: SPN is not mine
Summary: Andy Gallagher looks like a stoner and not a hockey player. [part of the hockey AU]
Author's note: ...why is it still baseball season?
TOO MANY MEN ON THE ICE
Andy Gallagher looks like a stoner and not a hockey player. It is a fact that he is informed of almost daily through middle and high school.
He has the same answer every time: “Is there a reason why I can’t be both?”
There's no reason why he can't be a stoner but the first thing his high school coach tells him is that he's too small for hockey. Even in a tiny town like Guthrie, they say he's too small for hockey. But his high school has trouble even fielding enough people for the team so he makes it because the coach has no other choice.
He's on the fourth line for about a week and spends most of it slamming into guys three times his size because that's what the fourth is supposed to do. He's too small to be that guy, the kind of checking forward the coach tasked him to be out of spite, but there's only one thing Andy cares about in the world and it's hockey.
So he starts scoring. It's a switch in his head he's never pressed before and the results are almost scary. He's not the fastest skater around, but he's been on skates since he could walk and had a stick in his hand the whole time. The connections come faster, fueled by his coach's lack of faith and the puck dances off his stick. Nothing's overpowering, it's just perfectly placed—every pass to tape, every shot on net.
He's on the second line three games into the season.
Then the first.
***
Andy plays all four years on the varsity and for three of them, he's the ice time leader. He tops the district in scoring for all but the his freshman year. He is a three time all district and all state twice. Not that it's any huge deal in a state like Oklahoma. Only two school districts even have a hockey program which amounts to about seven teams total in the entire state.
But he sets state records by his senior year and even though it's Oklahoma, it's a state freaking record.
Not a single college recruits him.
***
So he walks onto the team at Minnesota State and it's the same story all over again. He's too small, he doesn't have strength. But he doesn't need it. He's not terribly fast but he picks his places well. He doesn't get a sweater until a bout of the flu sweeps through the team just before playoffs. His first game in, he scores twice because no one thinks he's the slightest bit of a threat.
The captain of the team picks up the puck afterwards and hands it to him on the bench. "Gallagher," he says. "You should have had your shot well before this."
His number is 93. A slightly older model, the kind worn by only the practice squad. There is no way he would have gotten the ice if not for the wicked bout of stomach flu slicing through the team. Everybody knows it, but they also no there's no way he doesn't dress the next time out either.
***
When he thinks of it, Anson's probably the only thing that got him into the NHL. Which is crazy because Anson is a fratricidal freak who made it his business to take over every single aspect of Andy's life. Which honestly, stealing his pot and hitting on his girlfriend, not exactly out of the ordinary for brothers but the other stuff...
It's when he's locked in the trunk of his car as his evil twin laces up his skates for the hockey game that Andy decides he really doesn't like his brother.
They figure it out of course. The same DNA doesn't mean the same set of skills on the ice. Anson can skate but he can't play. It takes about one shift for them to realize the switch. The cops find him during the third period of the game, banging on the inside of the trunk and screaming himself horse.
Anson somehow slips through detection and Andy finds him four weeks later with his girlfriend on top of a dam. There'd been a scuffle and then Anson was falling. It's easily the worst night of his life.
But the incident draws reporters to the school, people who want a good story. It also draws a curious scout from the Florida Panthers.
Andy gets a try-out with their ECHL affiliate after his senior year and fratricidal or not, he can't be anything but thankful for that.
***
It takes him four years to get to the Panthers ice. He keeps thinking he's going to top out, find his roof, find the spot where quick hands and wrist shots just weren't going to cut it anymore.
The first night he dresses he spends the entire morning shaking like a leaf but he doesn't dare do a thing that might slow him down.
His first night is a disaster. He gets rocked on his first shift, loses the puck because of nerve. It's a loss in the end. One of the goals was direct result of his turnovers and he's sure this is the last look he ever gets at the NHL.
It's the last look he gets that season, like the coaches confirmed everything they always said, he's just too small to be effective.
He lights up that night with a shaking hand, but never quite gets up to mellow.
The Panthers play forty-seven games before he gets his next chance. He sticks for an entire season. Then he's traded to Atlanta.
He's not protected in the next year's expansion draft.
***
The first year he spends on the Lawrence Rage he sees a lot of strange shit. Not the least of which is Ben Braden getting jumped by a bunch of guys with black eyes at the All-Star game. Demons, Winchester tell him. Not a figure of speech.
And apparently Rubesen was possessed.
And Jim Novak was an angel.
He grabs Chuck the second he gets back to Lawrence and the two of them spend an evening getting spectacularly baked. "What's the occasion?" Chuck huffs.
Andy blows a ring of smoke up toward the ceiling, thinking vaguely of angels, demons and Anson. "Our lives are weird, dude."
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: SPN is not mine
Summary: Andy Gallagher looks like a stoner and not a hockey player. [part of the hockey AU]
Author's note: ...why is it still baseball season?
Andy Gallagher looks like a stoner and not a hockey player. It is a fact that he is informed of almost daily through middle and high school.
He has the same answer every time: “Is there a reason why I can’t be both?”
There's no reason why he can't be a stoner but the first thing his high school coach tells him is that he's too small for hockey. Even in a tiny town like Guthrie, they say he's too small for hockey. But his high school has trouble even fielding enough people for the team so he makes it because the coach has no other choice.
He's on the fourth line for about a week and spends most of it slamming into guys three times his size because that's what the fourth is supposed to do. He's too small to be that guy, the kind of checking forward the coach tasked him to be out of spite, but there's only one thing Andy cares about in the world and it's hockey.
So he starts scoring. It's a switch in his head he's never pressed before and the results are almost scary. He's not the fastest skater around, but he's been on skates since he could walk and had a stick in his hand the whole time. The connections come faster, fueled by his coach's lack of faith and the puck dances off his stick. Nothing's overpowering, it's just perfectly placed—every pass to tape, every shot on net.
He's on the second line three games into the season.
Then the first.
Andy plays all four years on the varsity and for three of them, he's the ice time leader. He tops the district in scoring for all but the his freshman year. He is a three time all district and all state twice. Not that it's any huge deal in a state like Oklahoma. Only two school districts even have a hockey program which amounts to about seven teams total in the entire state.
But he sets state records by his senior year and even though it's Oklahoma, it's a state freaking record.
Not a single college recruits him.
So he walks onto the team at Minnesota State and it's the same story all over again. He's too small, he doesn't have strength. But he doesn't need it. He's not terribly fast but he picks his places well. He doesn't get a sweater until a bout of the flu sweeps through the team just before playoffs. His first game in, he scores twice because no one thinks he's the slightest bit of a threat.
The captain of the team picks up the puck afterwards and hands it to him on the bench. "Gallagher," he says. "You should have had your shot well before this."
His number is 93. A slightly older model, the kind worn by only the practice squad. There is no way he would have gotten the ice if not for the wicked bout of stomach flu slicing through the team. Everybody knows it, but they also no there's no way he doesn't dress the next time out either.
When he thinks of it, Anson's probably the only thing that got him into the NHL. Which is crazy because Anson is a fratricidal freak who made it his business to take over every single aspect of Andy's life. Which honestly, stealing his pot and hitting on his girlfriend, not exactly out of the ordinary for brothers but the other stuff...
It's when he's locked in the trunk of his car as his evil twin laces up his skates for the hockey game that Andy decides he really doesn't like his brother.
They figure it out of course. The same DNA doesn't mean the same set of skills on the ice. Anson can skate but he can't play. It takes about one shift for them to realize the switch. The cops find him during the third period of the game, banging on the inside of the trunk and screaming himself horse.
Anson somehow slips through detection and Andy finds him four weeks later with his girlfriend on top of a dam. There'd been a scuffle and then Anson was falling. It's easily the worst night of his life.
But the incident draws reporters to the school, people who want a good story. It also draws a curious scout from the Florida Panthers.
Andy gets a try-out with their ECHL affiliate after his senior year and fratricidal or not, he can't be anything but thankful for that.
It takes him four years to get to the Panthers ice. He keeps thinking he's going to top out, find his roof, find the spot where quick hands and wrist shots just weren't going to cut it anymore.
The first night he dresses he spends the entire morning shaking like a leaf but he doesn't dare do a thing that might slow him down.
His first night is a disaster. He gets rocked on his first shift, loses the puck because of nerve. It's a loss in the end. One of the goals was direct result of his turnovers and he's sure this is the last look he ever gets at the NHL.
It's the last look he gets that season, like the coaches confirmed everything they always said, he's just too small to be effective.
He lights up that night with a shaking hand, but never quite gets up to mellow.
The Panthers play forty-seven games before he gets his next chance. He sticks for an entire season. Then he's traded to Atlanta.
He's not protected in the next year's expansion draft.
The first year he spends on the Lawrence Rage he sees a lot of strange shit. Not the least of which is Ben Braden getting jumped by a bunch of guys with black eyes at the All-Star game. Demons, Winchester tell him. Not a figure of speech.
And apparently Rubesen was possessed.
And Jim Novak was an angel.
He grabs Chuck the second he gets back to Lawrence and the two of them spend an evening getting spectacularly baked. "What's the occasion?" Chuck huffs.
Andy blows a ring of smoke up toward the ceiling, thinking vaguely of angels, demons and Anson. "Our lives are weird, dude."
Tags:
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
7/6/11 11:35 (UTC)(no subject)
13/10/11 07:00 (UTC)