1. You see some clowns.


Hello. It is early 'o' clock outside Kensington Olympia. There are a lot of thirsty middle-aged men waiting outside and they are being pestered by some clowns. I'm not talking to them because I'm about to drink a whole load of beer at a time when I'd normally be eating Weetabix, and frankly I have more important things on my mind.
I am to be a judge in one of six categories – Milds, Bitters, Best Bitters, Strong Bitters, Golden Ales, and Speciality Beers. But which?
2. You hit the damn jackpot.
![BOOM. Strong Bitters. According to the competition literature: "Strong bitters are full bodied and possess assertive hop qualities. They are typically brown, tawny, copper or amber but can be paler. They have medium to strong bitterness... [continues for a great many more words] Typical alcohol by volume: 4.6% or more."](https://img.buzzfeed.com/buzzfeed-static/static/2014-08/13/9/enhanced/webdr07/original-7585-1407936460-3.jpg)
BOOM. Strong Bitters. According to the competition literature: "Strong bitters are full bodied and possess assertive hop qualities. They are typically brown, tawny, copper or amber but can be paler. They have medium to strong bitterness... [continues for a great many more words] Typical alcohol by volume: 4.6% or more."
3. You realise this is serious business.

Meet my fellow judges. Battle-hardened beer drinkers who've supped more pints than you've had hot dinners. These people have refrained from eating spicy food for the last 24 hours, because that would blunt their finely honed sense of taste. They have a delicate judging sensibility that incorporates appearance, aroma, taste, and aftertaste.
Thus far I, on the other hand, have been contemplating only the implications of getting banjaxed by 12pm.
6. Things start to get difficult.

We only get about a quarter-pint of each beer, but they just don't stop coming.
I've discovered one of the other judges is an MP.
"Oh, we always get MPs," says one of my fellow judges.
"And a celebrity or two."
"Didn't we have Madonna one year?"
"No, I don't think it was Madonna."
"Good, I can't stand her."
10. You realise everyone is finding it hard.

Yes, T7 is something else, but let's not discount R7 and V7, both of which are putting in strong claims. Can we get some more? We can. And some more? No problem. Given that I'm now getting more and more drunk, it's possible that getting more in isn't actually helping proceedings.
12. You come up with a shortlist.

On the left: R7. Very clear appearance. Hint of grapefruit in the aroma. American hops give it a decent if slightly acidic taste and aftertaste.
In the middle: our faithful friend T7. It's not the perfect beer, it's a little cloudy, but how can you hold that against a beer that does SO MUCH RIGHT, as I shout at the man on my right while spitting into his face.
On the right, the cheeky young pretender, V7. It's T7 but a little less citrussy, and it's got something else going on there. Is it honey? It's honey.
Only one can survive.
Also, I think I've started dribbling.
13. We have a winner.

It was never in doubt. Not really. And so, as is later revealed, Church End Brewery's Fallen Angel takes the crown.
But a very heartfelt shout-out to Loch Ness Brewery's Hoppyness and Blue Monkey's Ape Ale. You fought hard, but it wasn't quite enough.