Yesterday evening, I went to the Mission to watch the Ducks gut out a nice win in LA. The game was a big winner: the Ducks running their usual insanely fast offense, getting down in the second half, and then roaring back for a three-touchdown win. The USC defense came into the game with the sole goal of stopping LaMichael James, who ended up with 238 yards. A remarkable performance.
The McMenamins' game, however, was nowhere near as sharp. I ordered a porter to start things off, and it was treacly sweet. Next up, a Hammerhead so soaked in diacetyl I had to send it back (to a surly, disbelieving barkeep). The replacement IPA was actually better than the McMenamins' usual standard--typically a very average version. Sally had the seasonal nut brown (fine) and a Terminator even more worty than my porter. She finished half of it.
The McBrothers have never offered the city's finest beers, but it's been years since I've had noticeably bad ones. Inexcusable. I will consider more carefully whether I want to spend three hours watching a football game (on, albeit, a beautiful movie screen) in the company of those beers.
Oh, and while we're talking about bad beer, the Beeronomist has some harsh words for Migration. Deserved, I'm sad to say. Since I was there with him, I feel duty bound to confirm his reports. I had hoped Migration was on the mend, but it looks like they still have work to do.
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