Why beer medals matter

This story originally appeared in The New Brewer in 2004.

These two commercials that Miller Brewing rolled out during the college football bowl games and late season NFL contests did not merit a USA Today review in its Ad Track column. They didn’t generate as much conversation as the 45-second spot where drinkers screamed, “I can’t taste my beer.” Instead they were quick, only 15 seconds apiece, and to the point.

In each, the images show only beer splashing into a glass, and bubbles swirling about. The pounding music gives way to a voice over, with the speaker repeating the words spilling onto the screen (this is a message you can read in a loud bar where you can’t hear the television).

“If on the one hand you have half the carbs of Bud Light,” the voice says, “and on the other the Gold Medal winner of the World Beer Cup then you have a Miller Light in each hand. Lucky you. Miller Lite. Great taste, less filling.”

In another the message goes: “This beer has half the carbs of Bud Light. This beer is the Gold Medal winner of the World Beer Cup. Amazingly, they’re the same beer. Miller Lite. Great taste, less filling.”

Miller conducted a parallel campaign in print, with advertisements running in newspaper sports sections, listing facts about not only Miller Lite and Bud Light, but also Coors Light, Michelob Light and Michelob Ultra. Miller’s trump card in these comparisons was that Miller Lite won the American-Style Light Lager category in the 2002 World Beer Cup.

Miller Brewing won seven medals in the 2002 World Beer Cup, but you didn’t see any of the other six advertised during the Carolina Panthers’ NFC Championship game win. And if low carb beers had not reached the tipping point in 2003 then Miller might not have used its medal while positioning Lite in that category.

This medal became worth its weight in, well, gold when Miller executives backed it up with considerable resources. Few other World Beer Cup winners have the money to make such a splash, but an award from the WBC or many similar competitions can be worth as much as a brewery wants to make of it.

In 2000, for instance, BridgePort Brewing in Portland, Ore., was quick to take advantage of winning a medal at the Brewing Industry International Awards in England. Immediately after BIAA judging, medals winners are announced but not until the awards ceremony six weeks later do brewers know whether they’ve won gold, silver or bronze.

“We knew we didn’t have much a window,” said marketing manager Paula Johnston. “Within two weeks we put together a marketing program, BridgePort IPA: What will it be?”

Bottleneck hangers and other P.O.S. included ballots so consumers could vote for which medal they thought the IPA would win, and votes also were accepted at the brewery’s website. Three drawings followed; with one consumer who picked gold, one who picked silver and one he picked bronze receiving a trip for two to the awards ceremony in London.

Brewmaster Karl Ockert led the tour, and the winners put on coats and ties to see BridgePort win not only a gold medal but also the International Ale class.

BridgePort further celebrated the gold by declaring a BridgePort IPA Day in the seven states the brewery sold beer in 2000. “We had a big party at the brewery, and wholesalers clear to Colorado did different things,” Johnston said. “It helped people to understand the magnitude of the award. To this day, a lot of consumers say ‘That’s the beer that won in England.’”

The BIAA competition is held every two years, and IPA did not win in 2002 but three other BridgePort beers medaled. “I think there were more Northwest breweries who saw the value of entering,” Johnston said.

American breweries have found ways to capitalize on awards almost as long as brewing competitions have been around. That’s how Pabst Blue Ribbon beer became Blue Ribbon. Pabst won many awards in the 1870s, including at the 1878 Paris World’s Fair, and when bottled beer became more popular in the 1880s began adding blue ribbons around the necks of Best “Select” bottles.

By 1892, the company was buying 300,000 yards of silk ribbons a year, which workers tied by hand around each bottle.

Little wonder that when the 1893 World Columbian Exposition in Chicago came around the competition between the nation’s two largest shipping breweries, Pabst and Anheuser-Busch, was beyond spirited. There were disputes about which regions judges came from, about the fact that the judging scale of 100 points awarded up to 20 points for “commercial importance,” about chemical analysis of the beers, and more.

Before going on, a bit of disclosure. Two of the world’s largest competitions, both of which will be prominent in this story, are produced by the Association of Brewers, which also publishes this magazine. They are the Great American Beer Festival Blind Professional Panel Blind Tasting and the World Beer Cup. The PPBT takes place annual during the GABF in Denver, while the World Beer Cup is held in even numbered years.

Speaking about the WBC, beer authority Michael Jackson said: “No other worldwide competition for beer is remotely as well judged. Only at The World Beer Cup does the panel of judges truly understand the international diversity of beer styles. For all but a handful of international brewers (and perhaps even for them), the future of the industry lies in a new awareness of characterful beers. The World Beer Cup is setting the standards for tomorrow’s beers.”

Jackson says much the same about the GABF competition, and is a regular judge at both events. The two are conducted in a parallel manner, with an emphasis on style parameters and technical merit.

In contrast, the Brewing Industry International Awards are divided into entirely different categories (some based on styles, some on color or alcohol content). All judges must be currently employed in the commercial brewing industry, so technical merit (or lack thereof) certainly is considered. But judges are also expected to look for commercial value.

The United States Beer Tasting Championship and World Beer Championship, on the other hand, use a hedonistic scale in making awards. And so it goes through other competitions, from international to quite local. It’s been nearly 10 years since two beer magazines, American Brewer and All About Beer, ran stories that asked if the proliferation of competitions would lead to “medal fatigue,” and yet there are even more today.

“GABF and the World Beer Cup are still the pinnacle, but they get watered down by all the (other) awards,” said Sam Calagione, founder of Dogfish Head Brewery in Delaware, being careful not to denigrate other competitions. In fact, Dogfish Head has never won a GABF medal but has done well in other events (such as the Real Ale Festival – where the judging gets particularly high marks from participants).

“I’m not going to be one of those guys who says, ‘I don’t give a shit.’ We’d love to win out there (at the GABF),” he said. “I want to win a medal because it means so much to our brewers.

“But I think it’s too late to resonate in marketing, to put on our packaging. Almost any brewery these days can say, ‘Award winning.’”

Tomme Arthur of Pizza Port Brewing in Solana Beach, Calif., agrees about the challenges in the marketplace. “It’s a pretty convoluted world out there, there are so many competitions and people advertising their medals,” he said. “A lot of beers I see on the shelves are publicizing medals that were won nine years ago.”

Like Calagione, Arthur is hardly a bellyaching loser. He’s shipped and carried his beers to a variety of competitions across the country, and few brewers have ever enjoyed a better GABF than he had in 2003, winning four medals and Small Brewpub Brewmaster of the Year.

Arthur kept an online diary before and during GABF, starting weeks before the actual competition. His entries show why brewing quality beer is only part of the process. A few excerpts:

– “The guys in the brewery decided that we wanted to enter three extra beers so we have been bartending on the side this past summer to raise the $525 it costs to send the remaining three beers. We are clearly not alone, as I know plenty of brewers who pay for the entry fees with their own money. This is part of the passion that drives our industry.”

– “This year, we have been packaging more beers in the afternoon after brew days so that we would have more beers available to taste before the deadline. We believe this will improve our chances this year of competing at a higher level. Giving each bottle more time to mature afforded us the ability to taste multiple bottlings before settling on the beers we wanted to send.

– “When you ship bottles via Fed Ex and UPS they sit in hot trucks and shipping centers. We (brewers in the San Diego region) felt this was a major problem and we addressed it by chipping in as a group to send a pallet in a cold truck. The cost savings were overwhelming. A pallet costs about $300 total and split among all the breweries, it winds up costing each of us about $30 to ship the same beer, and the quality is even better. This is obvious to us. The first year we shipped beer in the truck, 6 medals were won by San Diego brewers.”

So why go to the trouble? “For us it’s not necessarily market driven,” Arthur said. “In some ways it’s about being different and expressive.”

Pizza Port’s beer reputation was already well established before the most recent GABF success, but there are many times a medal can be worth as much, relatively, to a small brewpub (Pizza Port brewed about 660 barrels in 2003) as it is a distributing brewery. It reassures customers about the quality of the beer.

At Blue Corn Café & Brewery in Albuquerque, N.M., the waiting area is situated between the dining area and bar (which looks into the brewery). A display case prominently displays two World Beer Cup medals and two GABF medals. New Mexico State Fair medals hang below them.

“A customer waiting for a table may think, ‘I’m not a beer drinker, maybe I should try one,’” said brewer Ted Rice, who made 626 barrels in 2003. “We’re so immersed in craft beer that we think everybody thinks about it all the time. They don’t.”

Rice first entered the World Beer Cup in 2002, and both beers won medals. “I’d been in this brewhouse for three years and I felt comfortable that I could hit the flavors I wanted and that I knew the beers were to style,” Rice said.

He wanted to see how his beer would stack up, and since the entry fee for WBC is $140 per beer and the only other expense was shipping it was easy to convince his boss to enter. Of course, after winning he had to enter the same two beers in 2002 GABF, where his bock won silver.

“The nice thing about winning is you get to enter again,” he said. Last October, he entered five beers and served his beer on the floor of the Great American Beer Festival. This time he won gold with a kölsch. So he entered five beers in the 2004 World Beer Cup.

“It’s a huge process to bottle it up and ship it out. I want to focus on only a few competitions. I only want people who really understand off flavors and styles judging the beer,” he said. “I’m not going to spend hundreds of dollars to enter something to have somebody who doesn’t know that much about beer deciding if I’ll win.”

Todd Ashman also enjoyed remarkable success – medals all seven years he entered beers – in a small pub setting at Flossmoor Station Brewing in Flossmoor, Ill. After the 2003 GABF, he took the head brewing job at Titletown Brewing Co. in Green Bay, Wis., which has about twice the brewing capacity.

His pay package includes bonuses for medals won at major brewing competitions, which is quite uncommon. That management was serious enough about beer to make that part of the package seems to be as important to Ashman as the potential bonuses.

“It’s great to get a bonus or a pat on the back, but it goes beyond that. I see myself as a craftsman. Winning kind of confirms that I’m able to do what I set out to do,” he said. “I do it for myself but I do it for the people I work for, too. It’s advertising money can’t buy.”

That’s important at small breweries, most notably pubs, that spend little or nothing to advertise their beer. For Miller, the investment was in advertising, not the cost of entering Lite in the World Beer Cup. For BridgePort Brewing, which sold more than 40,000 barrels in 2003, paying the entry fee and shipping costs to participate in the Australian International Beer Award doesn’t require approval at the owner level.

Ashman, though, recalls when Flossmoor Station got hit with a $900 shipping bill for beer sent to Australia. “Nobody at Flossmoor ever let me forget that,” he said.

BridgePort IPA and Blue Heron both won medals in Australia in 2003. “It’s interesting to see how beers from the Northwest hold up on other continents,” Johnston said. “It’s also a good barometer to see how other people feel about the IPA. At the GABF, only the big 72 BU ones win.”

Johnston is always looking for ways to support the IPA, a genuine flagship that accounts for 70 percent of BridgePort sales. Every medal reminds consumers “it’s not a fad. They help us reconfirm what we are doing.”
Blue Heron’s success also merits promotion. BridgePort created six-pack stuffers headlined “Victory Down Under” with information about the competition and the beer. “I think that everybody wants to align themselves with a good product,” Johnston said.

Ashman agrees. “Your customers can take ownership (of a medal),” he said. “They think, ‘I had that beer, maybe even some from that batch.’ They associate with the brewery, and they feel good about the place where they are a patron.”

But they probably don’t ask if the medals are from the World Beer Cup they saw in the Miller Lite ad or the local homebrew club. “I would think if a consumer walks into a pub and see a bunch of medals it’s not going to matter where they are from,” Arthur said.

It does, it seems, matter to the brewers. At the pub level, that’s relatively easy to pass that long to the customer.

“To the lay person who steps into our brewpub it might not make one iota of difference where the medals come from,” Ashman said. “As beer educators, it’s our job to explain the difference.”

This story originally appeared in The New Brewer in 2004.