By The Steward
        February 15, 2009 – It’s deadline day and I carefully remove the bottles that have just arrived from their bubble wrap and place them in the refrigerator. Excitement builds; it’s like I’m in the locker room of a professional sports team. Names like Titan, Racer 5, and Hops Explosion float through my mind. Other names—West Coast, Two-Hearted, Flower Power—don’t sound as mighty, but they were three of the Final Four beers last year. They got game.
        Then there are the unknowns waiting in the wings until game time, possible giant killers. Last year’s other Final Four beer, #7138 from Cambridge House, was an unknown, knocking off favorites like Hop Devil and Crooked Tree. And in the end, only losing to the champion.
        Last year’s champion was Green Flash’s West Coast IPA—what a monstrously good, hop-filled beer it is. With balance and poise to boot. Because this is not just a competition for the most hops; the judges like balance and flavor in their IPAs.
        I return to the task at hand—storing the IPAs while placing one of each aside for the first round on February 22. The competition is a head to head taste-off of 64 IPAs, all 7.5% ABV or lower. It isn’t a particularly fan friendly event as judges like their privacy; it helps their concentration.
        The second annual IPA championship is being done a little differently than the first. We learn each time we run a competition. This year each three-person judging panel will have a west coast representative. The west is after all, where hops are grown. There is also a woman on each panel; all hop heads of course. And as always, each panel contains at least one brewer. Last year’s judging also indicated the essentiality of having judges who travel widely to sample good beer; this is the most important qualification in many respects. That, and a love of hops.
        The locker room scenario filters back into my head as I stand over the giant freezer turned refrigerator. The beers are kept at 34 degrees F until game day. Each six-pack reminds me of another giant ball player, seeing him up close before game time. Or is it her? Hops are female, after all.
        Most of the beers arrived just before the deadline, slipping in with the freshest hop flavor possible. That thought gets me salivating. And the unexpected genius of it all! I mean, someone has to drink the beers that don’t advance, right? No wonder everyone is acting so nicely around me. Help will be needed.
        But for now, it’s on with the show. Let the better IPA advance.

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