One of our sickest boiz, Curtis, was charging Christmas Eve at 26th when his stick broke on one of the gnarliest waves.

Let me paint you a little picture of the day.

It was Christmas Eve.

All the boiz were chillin when someone said the waves were pumping.

The alert went out and all the boiz were ready.

Kids fed. Families settled.

Not a board missing — not even a leash.

They paddled out within a beat.

Curtis was charging every last wave.

Then, out of the corner of our eye, a monster appeared.

Curtis said, “It’s mine. Mine. Mine.”

He paddled a little… then a lot.

We all said, “Oh nooo, Curtis,”

when he got pitched from the top.

He went flying — maybe 10, maybe 30 feet.

It was beautiful and horrible all at once.

His epic fall was a monstrous feat,

but his board did not survive the feat.

Much Love,

CHERRY BOIZ