The Pickle Tournament was initially envisioned by myself and a couple close friends as a way of having serious fun in a very silly environment. The event fits perfectly into the bizarre world of Silly Sir. Initial tournaments were held in my parent's basement in Scarborough and have since expanded to being held in my parent's not-basement in Scarborough (i.e. their back deck and living spaces, the poor old fogies).
Note: I originally wrote this piece for the Neat Pour audience. Though it's not quite my style (part of my goal with Silly Sir is to make great beer appealing to casual drinkers by avoiding describing it so much), I think it makes for a pretty interesting read.
In the Beginning...
I started drinking beer when I was three-years-old. A curious miniature me demanded a sip from my mother's can of Budweiser. “You won’t like it!” she insisted. She was right. It was here, at this early age, that I learned beer tasted like piss and vinegar. It was an awful substance, and I couldn’t understand why grown-ups liked the stuff. I swore I’d never drink beer again–in hindsight, I realize that this sentiment was exactly what my mom wanted to hear.