Sir Lord Nicholas Stern , adviser to the British Government on climate change and author of the Stern Review Report on the Economics of Climate Change, has recently said:-

“We risk, if we don’t act strongly and act now, the destruction of the relationship between human beings and the planet. We risk something like, over the next century, a [temperature increase of] 5 degrees centigrade and more which we haven’t seen as a planet for 30 million years. Many parts of the world will be deserts, others will be under water. That’s why it’s so important”

Fair enough Nick, but at least the warmer weather will mean Melbourne retirees won’t have to move to the Gold Coast.

Fresh from boasting about Melbourne’s official title as The World’s Best Sporting City, the Victorian Government has begun negotiations over the naming rights of the city’s new $267m rectangular stadium.

One of the negotiating parties is the home building firm Metricon.  Why not the company that actually built it, Grocon? Or better still a construction company without ‘con’ in its name.

Tourism Victoria, being very eager to clarify the location of the stadium for tourists and locals, has been discussing five possible names:-

1) That Rectangular Thing Next To The Lexus Centre (“The what?”)

2) You Know, Across From Hisense Arena (“Huh?”)

3) Alright, Do You Know Gosch’s Paddock? (“No”)

4) Edwin Flack Field?  (“Um”)

5) Just Forget It Will You

A name is just a name but I’m hoping the new place will be called The Stadium With Decent Beer. Because what  really matters, besides comfort, atmosphere, and viewing quality, is the availability of good beer.

Please please Mr Brumby don’t give the pourage rights to the Foster’s Group, pretty please!

Fosters, promoting its midstrength version VB GOLD,  is trumpeting the fact that midstrength beer is the second fastest growing ,and second largest, beer segment. But that’s only because they’ve been dumping endless loads of the tasteless stuff at RSA (Responsible Serving of Alcohol) venues such as the MCG and Etihad Stadium where patrons wait in line to have their egg cartons filled with plastic cups of the watery dross.

For Melbourne Storm games at Olympic Park (too 1956 for Fosters) Lion Nathan had the pourage rights and there was full strength Tooheys Red (yes, I know) and Heineken. Now, I  have to be careful admitting a preference for Heineken over a local favourite. Remember young Jeffrey Beaumont and the psychotic Frank in Blue Velvet:-

FRANK: “What kind of beer do you like?”

JEFFREY: (whispering) “Heineken” 

FRANK: “HEINEKEN! F*CK that SH*T! PABST BLUE RIBBON!”  

Young Jeffrey was bashed and came to in a timber yard.

What a dreadful waste of the new venue’s 16 bars if the only beer available will be a diluted one. Even if the stadium has a  more liberal approach to the RSA and allows full strength beer Foster’s would offer VB, Carlton Draught, and possibly Crown Lager for the corporate set; all of them tainted with that CUB metallic bitterness (thanks, apparently, to the “iconic” Pride of Ringwood hops).

Or, God forbid , Carlton Cold ,the most tasteless beer in the southern hemisphere, may even get a look-in.

For those who appreciate fine beer there should be a range of foreign and local independent ales.  To allay fears of drunken loutishness a limit of two serves per person per transaction could apply. Patrons are presently allowed to slug  four tubs of midstrength at a time.

Fosters itself could supply beers other than its CUB homologues. It brews Stella Artois under licence and imports Leffe Blonde from Belgium, a rich beer by Australian standards but ,if the number of empty cans lying on the banks of the Seine is anything to go by, is the VB of Europe.

People forget that during night games in Melbourne the temperature often drops below 10 degrees; no place for “crisp refreshing lagers”.

I therefore recommend the construction of a RSA (Really Serious Alcohol) Section. A place to lounge in while sipping goblets of rich ales brewed by Trappist monks –  like the Rochefort 10 with a very warming alcohol level of 11.3%. Limits per person will be unnecessary as it takes a fortnight to chew your way through one of these.

The Victorian Government requested that the stadium have “green features”. I hope this refers to an environmentally friendly design and not a VB showpiece.

If it is the latter then at least precious water will be saved when the beer is used to flush the toilets.

My father drank Crest Lager (“Brewed for MEN! A taste that is crisp and VIGOROUS!”, baritoned the 1970 TV advertisement) and Courage Draught rather than the dominant Carlton beers: Fosters Lager, Melbourne Bitter, Victoria Bitter, and Carlton Draught.

Remember Abbots Lager? At the time of writing I came across a reference to it in Barry Humphries’ ‘biography’ of Edna Everidge. The cardiganed old Sandy Stone is standing in the hallway with a glass of Abbots. His glass would have been the now extinct 200ml standard or perhaps even the 140ml ‘pony’ filled from a 750ml bottle – stubbies and (meshed steel) cans were rarer, perhaps deemed too expensive in those economic recessive times, or less sociable. Sandy’s beer would have turned flat the instant it slid down into his Sunlight Dishwashing Liquid – lined glass.

Mother chose Vita Brits over Weet Bix; AktaVite and Ovaltine over Milo and Quik. I’m not exactly sure why this preference for obscure brands. A bit of an outsider himself, dad, I think, relished the idea of a company attempting to break a monopoly and the consumer narrow-mindedness that it relied upon.

I remember him pawing over the catalogue for the newly released Leyland P76 and telling everyone who’d listen about its features and the advantages it had over the already iconic Holden Kingswood and Ford Falcon. I can’t remember him harping on about the Chrysler Valiant though which, with its more stylised (albeit American) look, was probably deemed a little too ethnic. The Valiant was popular with the recently arrived Greek and Italian immigrants. Its pointed ends and exotic grilles seemed to match the owners self built balustraded palatial homes.

Later, when choosing a company car dad requested a Mitsubishi Magna -rather than the more expensive Commodore and Falcon. And lying on the back floor was his UBD street directory, not the standard Melways.

I wasn’t immune. After a camping trip as a teenager I developed a penchant for jeeps – real tin jeeps, not the luxurious AWD SUVs driving around suburbs today. Not being able to afford one as a first car I bought a Mini Moke. I also carried around a brochure. It was faintly patronising, mentioning several times that it only had lap seat belts in what was essentially an ash tray on wheels. No doors and a canvas canopy for a roof, its fuel tank was in the side chassis; luckily the passenger’s side. There was no need for a fuel gauge. I would simply lean across, twist the metal lid and peer inside.

Dad’s Crest Lager was my first beer – at four years of age. I can still remember seeing the bottle sitting on the mantlepiece as my parents were farewelling their guests. The golden hue and thick white head of beer had always fascinated me. Expecting it to taste of honey and mock cream the metallic bitter taste was a nasty shock. Wanting it to taste how it looked I took another slug. Anyway, my parents found the empty bottle under my younger brother’s cot and me hiding/slouching behind the door. My parents looked mortified, staring at me and thinking: “could a near full 750ml bottle of beer cause brain damage in a 4 year old?!”.

I was a big fan of Abbots Lager. Its white label was less crass than its lolly coloured brothers: Fosters (blue), Melbourne (red), and VB (green). The charcoal sketch of the CUB brewery in Abbotsford (from which it got its name) gave it a monastic credibility. Looking at it’s label today it just looks like a factory. And it was no Rochefort 10, of course. It had the same bitter metallic taste of all the CUB “brews”. The powerful aroma of malt wafting from that common orange-red brick ‘monastery’ promised so much more.

Mum’s brand choices were most likely based on a belief – spawned by the words “nutritious” and “essential vitamins and minerals” on the labels – in their health benefits. AktaVite must have been healthy because it looked like tapeworm and had the cloying aftertaste of all “pleasant tasting” medicines.