Random Laura memory for your reading pleasure:
One of the first times I ever remember enjoying beer was following an indoor soccer game when I was in medical school. A gal in my women's group played for a team that needed a sub, and being (un)arguably the most athletic option in our group, she asked me if I would join her. I remember sucking wind so hard I had to go to the restroom at half time because I thought I was going to vomit. I remember a few good touches and a lot of bad ones, and the muscle memory of over 10 years coming back to me by the end of the game. And I remember going out for pizza and beer after the game.
This may seem routine to most of you, but to my sheltered, introverted, prohibitionist 23-year-old self, it was quite a thrill. First of all, to think I was meeting new people, going outside my comfort zone, showing off my athletic prowess (that last part may not be what actually happened)--it was kind of amazing. This is what young, single adults do when they're not crouched in their room rotating a model of a human skull to memorize nerve pathways! I was basking in the glow of the guys calling me "Mia Hamm" (so maybe I didn't suck so bad after all). I marveled at our captain's vast knowledge as he discussed draft options with the waiter (How does one even know that many beers?). And I can still taste that wonderfully greasy cheese and Shiner Bock merging together to form perfection.
I remember wondering if it was only because I had exhausted myself and my salt stores on the field, or if it was because I was drinking something besides Coors Light, or if it was because I was enamored with my new-found social graces, but that beer tasted good! This must be why people drink it, I thought. It took a few more years for my palate to fully agree, but considering that now my standard day-off activity is microbrewery flights with the womb-mate, I've come a long way, baby.
Also, speaking of bocks, Paulaner's Salvator is pretty delish as well.
