First Draft Follies: Early History of the American Homebrewers Association and Brewers Association, Part 8

Part One --- Part Two --- Part Three --- Part Four Part Five --- Part Six --- Part Seven --- Part Eight --- Part Nine

Welcome to this edition of First Draft Follies, an ongoing series here at the blog. The material is presented “as is” from the first draft of the manuscript that became the book Ambitious Brew. In a few places I added one or two words in brackets — [like this] — for clarification. As always, when the excerpt is lengthy, and this one is, I break it into manageable bits and post those bits over the course of several days.

This edition of FDF concerns the early years of the American Homebrewers Association and what is now the Brewers Association, the craft brewing trade group. Much of my research into the topic fell into “insider baseball” information: interesting to those who were involved, and to people with a serious interest in brewing history, but dull as rocks to a more general audience. As a result, almost none of what follows ended up in the book, which was intended for a general audience.

On the other hand, the groups' early histories provide fascinating insight into the creation of a organization from the ground up, particularly the conflicts that ensued between and among the participants. As a result, I think it’s worth posting this (long) series in full.

For more about the founding of the AHA, see my earlier string of First Draft Follies entries on that topic. (The link takes you to part six of the six-part series; it contains links to parts one through five.)

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 Nowhere was that more obvious than at the Great American Beer Festival, which, in its early years, stood as a perfect example of the way the Boulder group blundered its way into situations without thinking them through. In 1984, to use one rather horrific example, Papazian and Bradford, moved the festival to capacious Currigan Exhibition Hall in Denver.

The forty-odd brewers who attended could not fill the enormous venue and the five thousand or so paid admissions could not cover the cost of renting and insuring it. The financial loss boarded on the catastrophic. The Association borrowed money to cover not just that loss but basic operating expenses; a board member offered his own house as collateral.

Nor was the event particularly well-managed. Bert Grant arrived at the 1987 festival to find his entire stock of bottled ale buried in cases of ice. He “immediately began yanking bottles out of the ice and onto the table, dripping water everywhere.‘Jesus Christ, we need a bottle warmer not an ice chest,’” he yelled at the young volunteer assigned to his booth. She fled. (*1)

In 1988, the program was miscollated, thereby omitting a chunk of the alphabetical list of attending brewers, and award winners left empty-handed because the medals had not arrived.

The most notorious example of whatever erupted over the GABF’s Consumer Preference Poll, in which festival-goers voted for their “favorite” beer. Sierra Nevada, the golden boy of craft brewing, won honors in the first poll in 1983. The following year, Grant took the top two places and contract brewer Matthew Reich came in third.

But the 1987 festival nearly drowned in rumors that the owners of two breweries purchased bulk quantities of admission tickets and then and doled them out to attendees in exchange for votes. The alleged offenders, Boulder Brewing and Koch’s Boston Beer, placed first and second, respectively, in that year’s consumer preference poll. Daniel Bradford exacerbated the situation with what can only be described as ill-chosen words: “‘Without the bulk ticket sales we would not have made money.’” (*2)

Bradford later retracted the statement, but the damage had been done. Grant told Bradford that unless the awards were withdrawn, he, Grant, would refuse to participate again, and would organize a boycott of the event. Bradford explained that there had been “‘no flagrant disobedience of the rules and guidelines,’” which were, he admitted, “‘terribly flawed,’” for which he blamed himself. (*3)

Had he left the matter there, perhaps the black cloud would have drifted away. Instead he backpeddled, explaining away his comment about the bulk ticket sales as a “whimsical” attempt to “‘lighten the atmosphere.’” (*4)

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SOURCES: *1: Vince Cottone, “Movement in the Right Direction: The Great American Beer Festival,” American Brewer (Fall 1987): 28.

*2: Ibid., 29.

*3: Ibid., 30.

*4: Ibid.

Congratulations, Jay!

Big congrats to the amazing Jay Brooks: Starting Wednesday, he'll be writing the beer column for Oakland Tribune. This was the gig held down by Bill Brand, who died recently

This is terrific news for a terrific person. It affirms his chops as a serious journalist and beer writer (not, mind you, that I think he needed additional affirmation). I suspect it's also a bittersweet moment: he was a good friend of Bill Brand, and I'm sure Jay never dreamed he'd be taking on this job under these circumstances.

Again, congratulations and best wishes to Jay.

First Draft Follies: Early History of the American Homebrewers Association and the Brewers Association, Part 7

Part One --- Part Two --- Part Three --- Part Four Part Five --- Part Six --- Part Seven --- Part Eight --- Part Nine

Welcome to this edition of First Draft Follies, an ongoing series here at the blog. The material is presented “as is” from the first draft of the manuscript that became the book Ambitious Brew. In a few places I added one or two words in brackets — [like this] — for clarification. As always, when the excerpt is lengthy, and this one is, I break it into manageable bits and post those bits over the course of several days.

This edition of FDF concerns the early years of the American Homebrewers Association and what is now the Brewers Association, the craft brewing trade group. Much of my research into the topic fell into “insider baseball” information: interesting to those who were involved, and to people with a serious interest in brewing history, but dull as rocks to a more general audience.

As a result, almost none of what follows ended up in the book, which was intended for a general audience. On the other hand, the groups' early histories provide fascinating insight into the creation of a organization from the ground up, particularly the conflicts that ensued between and among the participants. As a result, I think it’s worth posting this (long) series in full.

For more about the founding of the AHA, see my earlier string of First Draft Follies entries on that topic(The link takes you to part six of the six-part series; it contains links to parts one through five.)

_____________

See also Charlie Papazian's commentary on this entry.

A classic blunder unfolded in the fall of 1986. The Association of Brewers [the new name of the group’s craft brewing arm] planned to hold its annual microbrewery conference in Portland, Oregon, a wise choice given the proliferation of small brewers there.

The schedule included tours of the city’s brewhouses but Papazian announced that without consulting first with the owners, who, no surprise, regarded this as a blatant attempt “to dictate dates and times” that they were expected to host visitors. (*1)

Four Portland brewers faced him down, refusing to abide by Papazian’s schedule and threatening to allow no tours unless he “backed off.” “‘We demanded, and got, a formal apology,” as well as free conference passes for each brewer’s employees.

Still, the damage had been done. The “‘whole thing left a sour taste,’” said Karl Ockert, the brewmaster at one of the four shops, “‘and we felt like it [the conference] had been imposed on us.’” (*2) Papazian, Bradford, and other staff were nothing more than a

“‘pretentious bunch of hypists, presuming to dictate to us when and how we should do them favors. And they’ve appointed themselves as our so-called representatives without any legitimate qualifications. Even their magazine [New Brewer] has no substance. They’re running a scam that’s riding the brewers’ coattails.’” (*3)

Strong words, those, but ones with a kernel of truth. No one at Boulder--not Papazian, not Bradford, not Charlie Matzen--had any qualifications for representing a booming and volatile industry. Neither the AHA nor the [craft brewing trade group] were professional organizations in the conventional sense of the word.

Mostly, Daniel Bradford acknowledged, the Boulder empire was “run by zealots” operating on “passion” and “emotion”; “amateurs doing professional work” and producing a “loosey goosey” mishmash of ideas and ambitions. (*4) The lack of professionalism at Boulder tainted nearly everything the group did, as did a chronic lack of communication that was one part arrogance, two parts naivete, and six parts incompetence spawned by inexperience.

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SOURCES:

*1: Vince Cottone, “Beer & Loathing in Denver: The Great American Beer Festival 1986,” American Brewer, Summer 1987, p. 17.

*2: Ibid., 17.

*3: Ibid., 16.

*4: Daniel Bradford, interview with Maureen Ogle, April 28, 2005.

Historian James McWilliams on the Downside to "Free Range" Pork

James E. McWilliams is a first-rate historian. He wrote what is, in my opinion, the single best book ever about the history of American food. (The work of Warren Belasco, especially his history of American food in the 1970s.)

Apparently he's working on a new book about eating "local" and that topic led him to write this op-ed piece in today's New York Times. It's fascinating to me because I'm writing a history of meat in America. But it's a perfect example of why long-term and critical thinking is necessary during times of social and cultural change.

Translation: eating "local" isn't quite the simple, groovy solution to food issues that many think it is. Absolutely worth a read.

Why Am I Always the Last to Know; Or, Alan McLeod Has A "General" Blog

Why, I want to know, did no one tell me this sooner? I've long been a fan of Alan McLeod's mind, and have long wished that he wrote about things other than beer. Well! Turns out he does. Here. Who knew? [All I've done today is mutter "Who knew?" Why oh why am I always the last to know the good stuff? (Answer: am perpetually and no doubt terminally out-of-it.)]