No pre-function soak, but the sky has plenty of water for us. With our attitudes amply braced, SA and I roll through the cold, heavy rain to the Sandy Hut. The ride is astutely summed up as the wettest of 2010. We peel off the shells, get “networked” by a seller, and then charge in. Been a while since we visited and, aside from an off smell, the place has taken a few steps up. Whiskey, honey beer, and pucks for the table. Dan and I break the ice, finding out quickly that the table holds its share of quirky challenges. The EBMB strolls in with rainpants aflutter. SA buries my comeback bid with an 8 point last end just as the Chairman and Ross Island arrive. Chairman vows January abstinence with a “just call me O’Doul.” Dub Dub trades his golden hammer for golden showers, flailing in the attempt to maintain 09 form. SA and R.I. win two, Chairman and I get off the schneid with a win, and the Farmers get their first win of 2010. What to do? Voodoo! Preppy donut princess serves up the fried dough. Our eclairs sufficiently stuffed, we retire to Chez Barrett for the wind down. Manzanita weekend, Red Fang, and the Dock Ellis No-No on the stream. Time inching in on pumpkin hour, so we all gear up and head out. The trip south is fair labor and ample chill. The rain threatens to freeze. The wind squares us up. A fist to SA at the turn and a shower for every man in the immediate plans. Plenty of good pieces to choose from in this wet and cold hello to 2010.