Well, let me tell ya, folks — I ain’t never seen nothin’ quite like that FHL barnburner last night down at the rink. Cousin Eddie here, reporting live from the frigid bleachers with a lukewarm Bud Light I smuggled in my tackle box.

Now, I don’t know much about "systems" and "forechecks," but I know heart when I see it, and those Galaxies boys had plenty of that — even if they were missing half their dang team! I heard they had guys out sick, workin’, or stuck at the airport somewhere between Des Moines and despair. But somehow, they rustled up a few fill-ins. Bradybaugh and Ehred from the Cobras were out there doin’ Lord’s work, and some young buck named Kid Caldwell — borrowed from the Mariners — was in net. Let me tell you, that kid was like a human brick wall if a brick wall could make glove saves and chirp between whistles.

The SuperChiefs, though? Man, they were all over the Galaxies. It looked like a fire drill in that defensive zone. The Kid had pucks flyin’ at him from every direction — high, low, sideways — like he owed ‘em money. But he just kept stoppin’ ‘em, calm as a preacher at Sunday service.

Now, the Galaxies didn’t get down to the SuperChiefs’ end too often, but I swear, every time they did, the puck wound up in the dang net. Gates ripped one in the first that looked so clean I almost spilled my beer standin’ up to cheer. Then the Chiefs tied it early in the second — crowd got loud, folks startin’ to think momentum was swingin’ — but nope! That Ed Rose fellah stole it right back, picked a pocket clean like he was shoppin’ at the five-finger discount store, and banked one in before the Chiefs even realized what happened.

Then that Kalinski fella — gotta give the man credit — scored a power-play goal that looked like somethin’ outta Major League Baseball. Waist-high rebound, whack!, straight in. I heard folks in the row behind me laughing, sayin’ “only in beer league.”

But the third period? That’s when the magic really kicked in. Jake — kid’s got hustle — followed up an Alderman shot and banged it home to put the Galaxies up again. And as the Chiefs just kept pourin’ it on, Kid Caldwell kept sayin’ “nope!” until Jake lobbed one from his own zone, 200 feet down the ice, for an empty-netter that sealed it tighter than Aunt Bethany’s Jell-O mold.

Final score: Galaxies 4, SuperChiefs 2. Two wins in a row for a team that was supposed to be deader than my RV’s carburetor. Ain’t that somethin’?

So here’s to the Galaxies — scrappy, short-handed, and stubborn as a mule. Merry Christmas to the whole FHL, happy New Year, and I’ll see y’all back at the rink come January 9th. I’ll bring the eggnog… and maybe a few spare helmets, just in case.

We played well but their tendie was on another level tonight. Regroup over the break. Happy holidays y'all!