Field Theory by Hadyn Green

I've written about the great New Zealand beerfest, Beervana, a few times over the years. Last year I interviewed the globetrotting beer collaborator Sam Calagione from Dogfish Head, while DB "controversially" took out the top prize at the Brewers Guild Awards (the quote marks are because the win was legit, it was just not popular). In 2009 I tried to drink every trophy winner in the competition, and was dismayed at the lack of Tui, bro. And in 2008 I got drunk.

This year is different. This year I have a beer entered for judging.

The wonderful people from Beervana (now run by David Cryer of Cryer Malt) paired up media folk from around the country with breweries and these pairs made beers that are going to be entered in a special Media Brew competition. I'm going to be there repping Public Address and Fishhead with a nice hoppy stout that I made with Paul Croucher of Croucher Brewing in Rotorua.

I'm originally from Tauranga so I had these grand ideas about a making a Bay of Plenty homage. But in reality time was against us. Exchanging texts about beer and travel plans with Paul we both quickly realised there would be no real collaboration brew happening. In spirit, yes; but not in reality.

I landed in Rotorua and little shaken; I'm not a great flyer. My phone buzzed. Paul wanted to know when I got in so he could pick me up. This is not a rarity amongst New Zealand's craft brewers; they are generally a wonderful, friendly and generous group. But the fact that Paul also offered a spare room in his house was over and above.

I jump in the car and we haven't moved more than a few metres before he Paul asks: "Do you want to see The Distraction?" We begin talking stouts, so I assume the Distraction is a new beer. I'm wrong. We arrive at Croucher's new bar, Brew, and there it is: a coffee roaster.

Paul shares another trait with other craft brewers, a frantic energy that seems to push through each task while he has an eye on the next target. The Distraction is clearly Paul's new toy and he wants desperately to make me a coffee. So before we drink beer, we have a brief cupping session.

The bar is Croucher Brewing's new project (the roaster is part of the plan). Paul, and his business partner Nigel, weren't sure if Rotorua was a craft beer kind of town. No other bars are really serving craft beer in Rotorua except for the places that had Croucher on tap. And even then the main sellers are still the big brewery staples, like Monteiths and Macs.

The guys were so worried about this, that when they opened Brew, they put one keg of Steinlager on tap, just in case. It's still there.

"We got booed for doing it. It was great!" beams Paul. "We thought that people would want a 'safe' beer on tap they could try, but if they come to a craft beer bar people want to try something different. Rotorua is an adventurous town; it's just the hospo community that isn't".

Later that night as I'm having a few drinks at the bar this theory is borne out. While most people there are interested in what's on tap and if there's anything "interesting" in the fridge, a group of suited men and women come in and despite tasting everything on tap finally go for white wine and Heineken.

People like what they like, most people in a craft beer bar like craft beer. I suppose it's the same to assume of any type of bar, you don't go to a cocktail bar for beer, you don't go to a strip club to look at clothed people.

Paul and I finish our coffee and head to the brewery; a five minute drive from Rotorua town centre and in and old sausage factory. If you've never been to a brewery they are a wonderful mix of senses. After we emptied a tank of pale ale, Paul told me to stick my head in have a sniff (though not hard enough to knock myself out with CO₂. It was an amazing fizzy experience with fruit and hops and sweetness. Minutes later my nose still felt like I had snorted sherbet.

I helped as much as I could around the brewery, but Paul had most things down like clockwork. And when Nigel showed up to help there was almost nothing to do. I learned how to roll kegs (slowly) and came with some large bruises to show I had actually done some work.

And the whole while we chatted and worked we kept trying a new hoppy stout. Croucher had a lot of success with their Patriot Black Ale but Paul has really wanted to try making a good hoppy stout. He seemed pleased with it, and I liked it. It's not a thick stout like a Renaissance Craftsman, this was more like a dark rich ale (which I suppose is pretty close to a stout). Very easy to drink and with nice chocolate and coffee notes under a hoppy bite. It was described to me later as smooth like a milk stout.

It was a good beer. And one we decided would be perfect entered into the Media Brew. What we didn’t expect was that other media brews would be more… experimental.

The winner was made by Epic Brewing and Dish magazine and featured fig syrup and Ethiopian coffee beans. It was like thick soy sauce and smelled, to me, quite nutty. The Yeastie Boys and This Way Up collaborated on the second place getter which was served with Moet floating on top. In this competition our beer was doomed.

However, there is a ray of light. Croucher's Mother’s Milk Stout will be on tap at the Malthouse and Hashigozake in Wellington and probably at many other craft beer establishments around the country (although I don’t believe it is an actual Milk Stout).

Also rather happily Croucher's Patriot won Silver, and the Pale Ale and Pilsner both won Bronze at the BrewNZ awards held just before Beervana. A good result for the brewery, but Paul is always striving for perfection so he’ll be honing those recipes even further.

And that’s why fans of Croucher love the beers. The new pub already has regulars, and going by the deliveries we made, even on the two days I was there, a lot of places around Rotorua have his beer on tap. Even the local golf course has local Croucher beer sitting on tap beside the big breweries of Lion and DB.

Locals like local beer, to make it sound like the Wicker Man.

During the day there were a few visitors to the brewery. Delivery men (Paul was hoping each one was carrying beans he could try in his roaster); friends; and other folk you expect at a small but busy business.

At one point three gentlemen came to the door of the brewery, Paul saw them and walked out greeting each happily and joking about the tank cleaning we were doing. They laughed and chatted and then Paul said, “Oh by the way, I’m Paul Croucher the brewer”. He then invited them in to see the brewery, introduced me and then poured them a beer. Two were tourists over from Australia sampling the local beers and the third was a relative who was a fan. Actual beer fans on a self-made brewery tour.

They tried a couple of the beers Paul had available, including the new stout and chatted for a long time. Then thanked Paul again for his time and the beer and carried on their excursion. After they left Paul said how he loved it when avid fans came for a visit and that it happened a lot. Sometimes it was good, people (guys and girls) would show up and be really enthusiastic and even pitch in with the brewing, others just wanted to pick his brains. Some would come to criticise.

Some even came bearing gifts. Paul and Nigel told me about a couple of Canadian women who had showed up with a selection of rare Canadian beers that they happily shared, though Paul admitted this meant he had to be driven home later.

But this is what the New Zealand craft beer scene is. It’s dedicated, enthusiastic and energetic brewers like Paul from Croucher's and Luke from Epic and Richard from Emersons and Søren from 8-Wired and Andy from Renaissance and Stu from Yeastie Boys (and many others) that are changing the way we think about beer and changing what we think of beer drinkers.

Here we go. It’s that bit of the rollercoaster where the car has chugged to the top of the climb and it’s about to start on the bit that makes your stomach churn. From kick-off to final whistle and beyond, every single shred of information will be pulled from this game and the next practice, and the next, and so on.

I use the word “information” loosely. Anything that even hints to be important will be crammed into theories and half-formed thoughts in an attempt to tell the future. Like a money-scamming medium, we will be told the fortunes of our national team and the demise of our adversaries. Or worse, their terrifying rise to power.

Tonight though, I actually expect a fun game. A free-running, big-tackling game with the new guys wanting to show off. This sentence should tip you off that I currently do not know the outcome of the game.

I am writing this in the frigid bowels of Westpac Stadium while we wait for our press briefing. What follows are my chronological notes from the game:

Morne Steyn is taking his kicking practice from just in front of halfway. And nailing them. This is ominous.

We roll through the anthems and the South African one is remarkably quiet. Ours is still boring.

Must remember to bring headphones next time. Perfect for listening to radio while watching the game.

White collars, huh. I actually do like it. I will put my full analysis below, so you don’t need to see me rambling on about uniforms.

I forget how quiet rugby games are here. The New Zealand people are a stern watchers. We boo and cheer lustily when required but during most passages of play our mouths are shut, usually set in a grim look, with disapproving eyes above it. We do not like any option taken by players that do not directly result in tries. Penalties awarded to the opposition

Dear Ma’a Nonu, You and I disagree on a great many things. For example I think orange and black should only be combined at Halloween. But in any case, should be able to keep up this current level of play, I will no longer criticise anything you wear or say or do. Keep up this level of play during the coming Rugby World Cup, and you may never have to buy another drink ever again. Yours, a fan on the bandwagon.

I will admit to not recognising Ben Franks.

While the crowd participates in a Mexican wave, South Africa scores. Save that shit for the fucking Sevens.

These are some of the best tries I have seen in international rugby. This is New Zealand playing to the highest of their abilities.

Cory Jane scores the dumbest try ever. I’m mean it’s good and all, but dumb.

Confusion takes hold as various All Blacks and Springboks are injured but the referee wants to keep playing.

The crowd bays for an intentional knock on midway through the second half. They also lustily cheer as Sonny Bill replaces local boy, Conrad Smith. Thankfully the now departed Piri Weepu gets a similar roar.

Set pieces for the win (and a few forward passes it must be said. It’s like a video game. Actually I wonder if Sidhe have the new uniforms added into their Rugby Challenge game, or whether they have designers frantically making them now.

Well that was all rather exciting. The All Blacks seemed to enjoy running about and did rather well against an out of sorts South Africa.

Here’s my first impression from the press conference: the All Black tracksuits have gold zips.

Peter de Viliers is a small nervous man, who is unsure with his words. He moves constantly and while seeming uncomfortable loosens up when talking to South African reporters. His eyes look bloodshot from where I’m sitting and I find myself fascinated by him. John Smit beside him is a direct contrast. Broad and quiet and stable. He smiles as he’s told that he scored his first ever try against the All Blacks tonight. He even jokes about purposefully aiming for the smallest player he could see.

Now to the important part…

Some of you might not know the small piece of trivia that the All Blacks have not won the World Cup since 1987, also the only time it was hosted here. As such the uniforms the host team had to somehow reflect this occasion.

Over the last decade, adidas have changed the uni a few times. Well, tweaked really. An embroidered red poppy, subtle embossing of traditional designs, an awful silver away-uniform, followed a beautiful white away-uniform.

This 2011 iteration of the All Black uniform is the biggest change since adidas removed the collar when they took over the All Blacks from Canterbury of NZ. Which is rather ironic really.

Here’s the PR stuff:

• The new jersey is 50% lighter than the previous one. [How light are they gonna get?]
• The main body is a single tube. [The All Blacks are now a series of tubes]
• The seams are bonded not knitted. [The previous one was the same]
• “The tube has been augmented to fit the player like no other tube construction before”. [This is actually what the press release says]

There is only one machine in the world that can make this fabric, and adidas owns it. But don’t expect Argentina to be wearing augmented tubes. This product is for the All Blacks only.

A lot of people are asking about the numbers. They look big and “futuristic” but I’m also sure they are the same as they have been for the last year as they were in the Fiji test. The 7s for example are almost identical. The font could’ve been blockier perhaps, or more of a facsimile of the old numbers.

Update (updated again): adidas have confirmed that "it is a specific signature font designed by adidas, and will be used by all adidas Rugby teams in 2011/12". So there you go.

In summing up, I like them. They look good and the collar doesn’t feel like a gimmick at all. It was interesting to watch and realise how normal it looked for them.

The New Zealand internet's current outrage is focussed at the owner of a particular trademark. This trademark was awarded some years ago to a large company; let's say it's McDonald's (it's not). The trademark awarded to McDonald's was for one of their signature products that they sell a lot of, so much so they decided to trademark its name: Cheeseburger (this bit is made up too). Rival companies also make a cheeseburger-style product, but while McDonald's is allowing them to continue to do so, it must be under their own branding, and not referred to as a cheeseburger.

Ok fuck it, you get the idea.

DB trademarked the name Radler. The Society of Beer Advocates (SOBA, disclaimer: I am a member) put in an application to have the trademark revoked back in 2009. From DB's press release: "SOBA argued that ‘Radler’ is a generic term for a style of beer, something which DB has long rejected". German Wikipedia says different. Sadly the Intellectual Property Office of New Zealand (IPONZ) does not read German, and they have sided with DB.

Of course IPONZ was the body that first awarded the trademark, so they probably didn't want to admit they had made a mistake. Why had DB decided to trademark Radler in the first place?

“We didn’t do it to prevent competition or restrict consumers’ access to different types of beer products,” she says. “Our trade mark has never stopped shandy or lemon or lime flavoured beverages being made by local brewers under their own brand name. In fact, this is what one brewery is already doing.”

So feel free to call your radler-style beer anything you want, just don't call it "Radler". The Green Man brewery now have a beer called Cyclist, after they inadvertently started this battle by brewing a traditional Radler and being sent a cease and desist. That's when SOBA stepped in, and now they are crestfallen. While others have had their steel resolved.

I await with interest Graeme's take on this because I am the one with rage and he is the one with a law degree (I assume). In the meantime, DB boycott anyone? Oh and DB make Heineken, the official beer of the Rugby World Cup. Cry havoc, and let slip the drunks of war.

I love this time of the year. I don't mean winter, I mean this exact time of the year. This is the only time during the year when there is no sport on at all.

I mentioned this last year as well (and noted from the comments that I caught a flu then as well, spooky). It's a fantastic time of year when sports stories get just a little bit crazy as journalists have to scrape together something from nothing.

So because I was stuck at home feeling sorry for myself I decided to watch a little bit of Le Tour. You know what? It's actually pretty good.

One guy in the lead, slogging up a hill, chased by 30 other guys in a pack and all excruciatingly slow. With no allegiance to team nor rider, watching this race thing going slow uphill was amazing. The pack had been miles back but had caught up on the leaders (allowing the current leader to catch up the time he needed to retain the yellow jersey).

The seduction of a slow race was intense. I began rooting for the Portuguese guy at the front simply because the commentators said he hadn't won a stage before. Go little dude!

And the crowd, so close to the riders and never touching them. Waiting all day for the riders to pass the single point where they are. Cheering like it's the last 100 metres. Later I found myself wanting to see them blasting at speed downhill through some small French village with people watching from balconies; hand-written banners fluttering in the wind as the race blasts by in seconds.

It does seem very romantic.

But this is the clean version; the drug-free cheat-free version. The version where teams aren't spending wads of cash and doing their utmost to hide the faults of their riders. When they ride you suspend belief. This is possible, this is human achievement. Watch them race the horses in the field. Watch them climb a goddamn mountain range on a bicycle. Watch them survive being hit by cars and thrown into barbwire. These men who swarm like starlings over the French countryside.

And France is always there as the passive and ever changing supporting character who occasionally steals the show. During the first stage the riders crossed the Passage du Gois causeway that is covered twice a day by the tides. Sometimes they ride on motorways through cities other times along cobbled lanes through villages. It's obvious why people get swept up in the race.

And so I apologise to those who enjoy the sport and whose attempts to get me to watch I have rebuffed. While I am still not a fan of the sport, I can certainly enjoy the spectacle.

It's only 65 days to the opening game of the Rugby World Cup, so let's try a little experiment. When was the last time you heard anything positive about the Cup? Anything that made you think: "Yes, I am actually excited about this!"

It seems that it's almost certain that any news item that includes the Cup will be something bad. The Cup is killing local business; it's shutting down schools; it's forcing children to learn rugby; it's the reason for all these road works; no one is coming; too many people are coming; costs are soaring; no one can sell anything; the tickets are too expensive; there aren't enough tickets; the country will lose millions; Richie is hurt; Dan is hurt; everyone is hurt; Nonu is cut; Hore is cut; no players are staying; we have a forwards/midfield/backs crisis*; Christchurch.

Is there no one who is actually excited by the fact that we'll be hosting a major sporting event this year?

The news is filled with doom, gloom and scaremongering. The Cup and the IRB are an evil force coming here and forcing us into slavery to corporate masters during the event. These cute children will be forced to starve because the IRB says they can't sell things. Or maybe not, it's never clear if the aggrieved business, school, or orphanage has approached the IRB, NZRU or any other official source to see if this would be the case.

Yes, there are issues with holding a big event (the largest sporting event of the year I am told, where the Tour de France sits in these kinds of calculations I never know). But I really doubt each one is the wreck and ruin of the country as they have been portrayed.

I'm also getting quite sick of the rugby haters. Boo-hoo, you're living in a place that is holding a festival for something you don't like. Just like those Christians living in Sydney during Mardi Gras. That's right; I just compared you to homophobes.

Rugby fans going to be loud and stuff. They are also going to be nice old English couples; they are going to be hot Irish guys; they are going to be Japanese businessmen; and just New Zealanders from other parts of the country. And they have all come to have fun, when did we become party-poopers?