no sooner do we indulge in the quasi-regular, neodemocratic, metaphysical debate on barista competitions (what is the philosophical significance of three beverage rounds? will a home junkie ever compete respectably? what IS cigaragay‘s next signature potion? jus de slaughterhouse lambshank el puente?) than someone far outside the usual echo chambers will startlingly declare what all this competitive drama could mean — with the proper leverage.
there was the elusive “michael m” during last year’s operatic discussion, poignantly illustrating the sort of humble ardor outward-minded competitions could tap … but representing, instead, the kind of natural-born evangelist tragically left outside the club. now there’s commenter “true,“ a newcomer who appears to be charging toward the day when his floridian establishment will begin to open eyes — with the excitement-generating help, he hopes, of barista competitions:
“As I see it, there are two ways to go about promoting something like the SERBC: you either have a set group of people who are going to attend no matter where it is, so the location doesn’t really matter (my Bahamas analogy) or else you work your ass off to bring people through the door who wouldn’t attend otherwise.”
unless this blog has missed the grassroots marketing blitz, the SERBC appears to be taking the former route. it’s for people in the club … which, you know, is a pretty good show for a screeching fanboy like this blog. just not anything in which more chemically balanced people might take an interest. like, say, a food network audience.
then again, they’re doing softball this year. evening softball. on a minor-league field.
UPDATE: the all-new approach to locating regional barista competitions … explained (link fixed).