#FOMO and the Secondary Market

Are you enjoying your beer, or are you showing it off?

I have a few questions, and I want you to be honest. What was your purpose in camping out in line and buying tickets for the chance to wait in line to purchase a beer? What was your purpose in PayPaling someone $250 for a three-year-old variant of a barrel-aged stout that brewery doesn’t make anymore? And finally, what was your purpose in waiting in line for a beer, purchasing it, then paying a guy online $100 for another wax-top bomber, because you needed those two beers to complete a trade with a guy in Chicago because he had the beer you REALLY wanted?

Did you want to drink that beer alone, or maybe share them with some friends? If so, that’s awesome. Or did you want that beer so you could tell your friends … and better yet, strangers, that you have that beer. I mean, I know you’ll probably end up drinking it, but how much time was spent gloating over your acquisition, putting photos on social media, and sharing your spreadsheet with people in trading forums? Those things aren’t evil, wrong, or whatever, but I guess it makes me wonder where some people’s focus lies. Is it actually enjoying their beer, or just the chase, acquisition, and then the display of those white whales during a bottle share?

The Cellar Dilemma

I’m not immune to this. I mean … I don’t do this all that much anymore, but back in the day, it got pretty bad. Brewery only releases weren’t HUGE back in 2010–2011, but I made sure to be the guy hitting up every liquor store days before a release to either get my name on a list, or hope someone I met while bartending would be the one answering the phone, and could put a few bottles aside. Hell, I was so aggressive at it that a lot of places would automatically have a dozen or so bombers of the latest and greatest for people who knew we were automatically “on the list”. I went a 2–2½ year stretch where I bought any and every special release I could get my hands on and throw it in the “cellar”. Four, five, six bottles of some 13% ABV barrel-aged wee heavy that I had no business purchasing more than one or two of … throw it in the cellar. By the end of 2011 I had something like $2,500 (actual retail, not secondary market prices) in beer in the “cellar” and thought “how in the flying fuck am I going to drink all this stuff?” Sure, some of that beer gains some character with age but not most of it, and that’s a ton of shit to drink before it turns south. Long story short … a lot of that beer did, in fact, turn south. I’ve moved around a bunch in the last few years so I was fortunate enough to have friends to help with the process that didn’t mind getting paid with those bottles so at least someone could enjoy them.

At some point I came to the realization that I was no longer interested in drinking the beer. I was interested in acquiring the beer before anyone else, telling people I had the beer, and then fawning over my collection with them. So what did I do instead of drinking it? (Keep in mind, I did drink a bunch of it, but not at the rate that was needed. I took inventory, I organized, I made spreadsheets. I re-organized, took new pictures, and … yes, “audited” the spread sheet when I was bored. I posted on beer forums what I had, and emailed friends and showed people print offs when we were out drinking. I was a being a douche, and I was the guy that often bothers me now. When people asked “when are you going to drink that?”, I often didn’t have answer as to when I was going to get through 8 bottles of Boulevard Rye-on-Rye (back when that was a big “get”).

Bottle Shares Become Untappd Gloating Parties

Sure, I attended bottle shares. I would meet with friends when we all had similar beer styles, we’d sit down, put on some old movies and pop bottles all night. That was fun. It was intimate, we would take mental notes on what we were drinking, toy around with verticals of certain bottles and debate one whether or not the fresh, one, two-, or three-year-old bottle was the ideal cellaring time for a specific brew. It was fun because the crux of the event was the enjoyment of the product with friends, and it didn’t take any convincing to get those involved to talk about beer, trade tasting notes, and really enjoy ourselves while we dissected each sip of something really cool we picked up during our last trip out of the state.

The issue there is a lot of that changed some time ago. Bottle shares went from a handful of people bringing in a handful of similarly styled bottles to a huge group of people bringing in a ton of bottles to the point of bringing on palate fatigue and severe intoxication before all the bottles were even popped. Trying a dozen barrel aged stouts or sour variants in a short period of time stopped being enjoyable, and having no more than an ounce or two or something offered little drinking pleasure other than the ability to check a beer off your list or add it to your Untappd profile. There was no meaningful discussion about what was being drank. The majority of what people talked about was what was going to be opened next, and passive aggressive criticism of the few people who “only” brought in a three-year Goose Island BCS vertical or had the audacity to “only” show off of super fresh bottles/cans of Pliny the Elder or Heady Topper after their latest trips to one of the coasts. I’d find myself being shitfaced an hour and a half in, and was no longer enjoying my one ounce pour of Side Project that someone was sharing with me because at that point I simply couldn’t taste it.

But here’s the thing. When I show up to these shares, I sincerely appreciate the generosity of those sharing the beers with me. I know they are expensive, and I know some people went to great lengths to get their hands on them. I’m more than gracious to get my crack at even a few sips of Toppling Goliath, Side Project, Jester King, etc. I really am because some of those beers can be life-changing they are so good. To those people, a heartfelt thank you.

But I feel like the people that are sharing them and tasting them aren’t really enjoying the liquid itself. I pour my sample, swirl it around, give the beer a look up in the light, a healthy sniff, and really try to process what’s in the glass. I try to have a discussion about what we’re drinking and nobody seems to care about actually talking about the beer itself. So many other people are just pouring it, giving it a quick sniff, pound their sample, and then that’s it. On to the next $100 bottle. No discussion about the product, outside of what they paid for it in terms of dollar amounts, time and effort, or what they traded for it. I hear things like “last year’s was better”, “this isn’t as good since it became more available” and of course “Man, if brewery X in KC would make beers like this impossibly expensive adjunct laden barrel aged whatever and charge $50 a bottle, that’d really improve their reputation.” A lot don’t even finish the beer after a sip … they dump it and quickly move onto the next one. Everyone always makes sure, however, to check in the beer on Untappd, and give it a rating. I have no idea how you can adequately judge a beer after a few sips in the course of five minutes, but they do. Does it get better as it warms up? Is it true to style, or true to what the brewer was going for in terms of the concept? Does the love/hate of the beer have more to do with the actual quality of the liquid, is it a style issue, or even worse, a prejudice you have with a specific brewery? These are questions I like to answer before I feel like I can adequately judge a super complex and intense beer.

Lastly, a major issue I have here, is that you have a lot of folks at these bottle shares that only bring in out of market stuff, nothing from the city we are drinking in … or even the state. They are often people that don’t drink locally all that often, as they wonder why their neighborhood brewery isn’t as cool as Tree House. You are also not very likely to see them out and about at local breweries either, grabbing a pale ale, or a beer on draft and supporting local beer/local bars. They are vocal members of social media, and outside of a special beer release, you are more likely to see a bald eagle flying downtown, then you are to see them drinking a local draft beer over a plate of chicken wings while watching the Royals game. I guess what I’m trying to say is that within the generosity and supposed camaraderie of these bottle shares, there are a considerable amount of issues I see with these groups of people that do little, if anything to support local beer and beer related businesses.

Beer for Profit Only: Secondary Market

I got into a passionate argument with someone some time ago that had hoarded a bunch of HopSlam when an unknowing liquor store employee allowed him to purchase their entire allotment of 5–6 cases. (This is when there wasn’t quite as much HopSlam in the Missouri market). He kept two case for himself (one to drink, one to “cellar”… that’s a whole different argument), and wanted to sell the other 3–4 cases at something around twice the retail price. Bear in mind that this wasn’t some mega-white whale that someone had to take off work for, so they could travel to the brewery, wait in line, pay an exorbitant price for just a few bottles, etc. The only reason he had his HopSlam is because he beat some people to the punch in that part of town.

My argument with the man was that what he was doing was something that I thought completely went against what craft beer was trying to accomplish (this was like, early 2012). Part of my initial love affair with craft beer was that I was a broke grad student, and I was still, from time to time, able to go out and afford a top-100, world class beer. Sure, it was “expensive”, but a $16 four pack, or a $20 bomber was OK for the occasional splurge. I couldn’t consistently afford it, but I was able to treat myself once in a while. Compare that to your top ranked whiskeys, wines, etc., and they often times price out the average consumer. It’s very simple, a lower price point made even the best craft beer much more approachable for the average person. The HopSlam hoarder was actively trying to profit only because he got to the liquor store first.

The discussion I had with this guy was a sign of things to come, where people would get their hands on beer and then just turn right around and jack up the price of the beer to something absolutely absurd. Waiting in line for a beer, winning a raffle for a brewery only release, or getting on a list for something at a liquor store often times isn’t because that person wants to drink that beer, but is going to turn around and profit on it. I hate that, I really hate that. You are acting in a manner that is specifically keeping people from enjoying something we all enjoy. You are taking a $40 750 ml you got at the brewery and turning around and slinging it for a few hundred bucks, if not more. You are no longer actively promoting craft beer, you are simply using your time and energy in obtaining beers to make an obscene profit. Hell, I have beer drinking friends that go through “mules” who’s side job is just obtaining stuff like Russian River, The Alchemist, New Glarus, etc. and selling them on the secondary market. Is that what we’ve come to? Next time you’re bored, head over to My Beer Collectables or Beer Black Book and check out some of the prices of beers. I sincerely don’t get it.

Conclusion

Collect great beer. Share great beer. Celebrate great beer. Drink great beer. Take a day off of work and drive out to Side Project or Toppling Goliath. Enjoy the festivities of the release and the fact that you just got your hands on some world class stuff. But please, just ask yourself if you are doing it to enjoy the beer, or are doing it for any other myriad of reasons that have little to nothing to do with what’s in the bottle. The former helps elevate the experience of all craft beer consumers, and the latter not only shuts people out of the process, but can even work to push some people away from this awesome thing that we all enjoy. Oh, and while you’re at it, head down to your local tap room and grab their newest IPA. Those guys and gals are putting a ton of work into making beers that Kansas City can be proud of.

Cheers,

Stully