Among the 5,000 or so breweries in the country, a handful of us tend to gravitate toward one another's beers, philosophies, and ways of life. Some of my most fond industry-centered memories involve Walt. I never found him very mysterious: his shaggy hair and tall thin body always seemed to fall and stand in a way that exuded his current mood. Walt keeps it real.

Many of us look forward to the few times a year that we see each other at festivals and conventions around the country. Social media allows most of us to stay connected, see what the others are up to, and ultimately what their breweries are doing, releasing, and working on. But at these special gatherings, we often have an opportunity within our hectic schedules to be friends. We share knowledge, we share laughs, and we challenge each other to make the best beers that we can because we're all so damn passionate about what we do.

Like everyone else, I saw the news on Wednesday morning. I had to re-read the email. This news was big. I thought of the ramifications, the uproar, and the hurt that so many would feel— including those at Wicked Weed who were no doubt braced for the backlash. I was worried. Immediately, I picked up my phone and texted him, "Homie! I'm happy for you, man!" And I was.

We’ve all seen how these things go down, and many of us wonder what we’d ever do in a moment like that—how we’d handle the pressure.

I also felt for the drinkers. It is quite reasonable to be upset by Wicked Weed's departure from independence. For most that supported and loved Wicked Weed, it feels like a betrayal. By investing in their brands and being loyal to that company the consumers built them into the powerhouse that they are, essentially putting them in a position to even be considered for purchase. Most of us can’t even imagine being that successful. Every dollar spent at Wicked Weed, for some drinkers, was a little way of "sticking it to the man," and now that dollar is owned by the man! I can understand the outrage.

Most of us in the craft sector consider ABI a threat. Wicked Weed is the 10th U.S. craft brewery to sell to them, but for some reason, this one really stings. Among our "like-minded breweries" are "like-minded drinkers”—this engaged, obsessive group of craft drinkers (like us!) that understand what a Grisette is, or the difference between Gueuze and Gose. This is the crowd that we see at some of our favorite events and with whom we feel a kinship. Things like Yazoo's Funk Fest (happening right now!), and Wicked Weed's Funk Asheville.

Wicked Weed, even among this ambitious group, is a phenomenon. I have never seen a brewery grow as quickly as they have while maintaining and increasing quality along the way, especially considering the wide breadth of styles they produce. It has been impressive (and, honestly, frustrating) to watch. Wicked Weed has become the pinnacle for some of us, and ABI took them away. We were in shock, and it took a few hours to digest. It felt like we were all holding our breath waiting for someone to make the first statement. And then came Jeff.

My respect and admiration for Jeffrey Stuffings is well documented. Jester King is one of my favorite breweries in the world. The word that comes to mind, when I try and describe why they are so special to me, is "authenticity." In everything they do, Jeff and the Jester King crew remain true to themselves. Whether it be their beers, their property, their brewery, their process, their values, their fight against injustice and inequality, their incredible integrity, or their transparency, it all resonates with me like it does with so many of their fans. In his very direct and tasteful way, Jeffrey stepped forward and, I imagine, with a lump in his throat, publicly distanced his business from Wicked Weed.

Damn.

This was the first real blow. I read Jeff's post a few times over and I could feel the hurt. I know how much Jeffrey respects and admires Walt, and I know how much Walt loves Jeff and Jester King. But Jeff's hands were tied. I mean, hell, his brewery's name is "Jester" and "King," for crying out loud. The man's mission statement might as well be "Suck it, ABI." Much like when I saw the news of Wicked Weed selling to ABI, when I saw Jester King's official post on the matter, I wondered about Jeffrey, about my friend, and what I knew was an extremely difficult decision for him to make. Again, I picked up my phone and, after exchanging a few texts I told him that, "I think you did the right thing for yourself and your brewery." And I meant it.