I met a guy down the pub once

I met a guy down the pub once. I knew him, of course. Everybody knew him - how could you not? I’d seen him at a few beer events around Sheffield, but always had been too nervous to approach him. I was leaving in a few weeks for California, and thought that I should at least met the man (the myth) before I left. I badgered him to take a some of my homebrew. Next time you’re in Sheffield, send me a message and I’ll give you a box of beer, I eagerly twittered. To be honest, I was looking for some validation: His opinion would be nothing but considered - it always was.

So I met him in my adopted local: The wonderous Hallamshire House in Commonside. It was a thirty minute walk with a box of wacky homebrew and my nerves were pretty high. I saw him come in - I was still nervous to approach him but since I’d come all this way I did. We exchanged pleasantries - he remarked that it was a lot of beer to take back to Derbyshire, me pointing out that, on account of the gushing nature of my homebrew, these weren’t train beers.

I nearly left early, I often feel uncomfortable with people I don’t know that well. He seemed taken aback so I stayed for a couple more drinks. We talked about brewing, but we talked a lot about his new job working for Derby football club. I was utterly entranced as he described how he could identify micro groups of football supporters and target them. His rhetoric was compelling - he talked like he wrote, always enlightening, always balanced. We eventually went our seperate ways, me slightly tipsy on the walk back to Cliffe Road.

He often tweeted that he was drinking my beers, he seemed appreciative. That was validation enough for me - the arbiter of taste had deemed my brews worthy. I had put two special bottles in with the box - two sour beers that I was especially proud of. I kept badgering him to tell me what he thought. I never found out.

He was nothing short of a superlative writer. No agenda, nothing to bang on about. Always balanced, always supportive. He pricked the ridiculousness of the beer world, and at the same time always appeared humbled by it. His love of Orval matched his love of Stella. It was always about the magical point in time, when the world collided with the beer. He was always enthusiastic, someone you would always admire.

I met a guy down the pub once. It was one of those perfect meetings. I will never meet him again. I will remember it forever.