Editor's Plate (or Mug): One Last Toast to Schlitz

When I went to college in 1974 – in Milwaukee, no less, Marquette University – Schlitz was still fighting to be the top-selling beer in the country, a title it had held since 1900. The drinking age in Wisconsin was only 18, which meant nearly every Marquette student could imbibe, many for the first time in their lives. Which meant all three brewers in that town – Schlitz, Pabst and Miller – poured free beer at campus events in the hope of establishing loyalty. Those were three of the top four beers in the country at the time.

Nobody in Wisconsin drank that St. Louis beer. It was always one of the Milwaukee three. While Anheuser-Busch may have edged out Schlitz for the No. 1 position nationally, Pabst was a strong No. 3. Miller hadn’t yet started its ascent.

Schlitz became my favorite, at least for those four years in Milwaukee. Although I strayed once I graduated and moved to Illinois, I tried to grab a Schlitz whenever I could.

Schlitz also holds a dubious distinction in business strategy history; some business schools teach it as “the Schlitz mistake.” Economic pressures in the 1970s took a toll on Schlitz Brewing Co., and a recession in 1980-1981 dealt an especially painful blow. Budweiser was stronger than ever, Miller was on the rise and Lite beers were suddenly in vogue – a variant Schlitz didn’t pursue until it was too late.

Schlitz responded by finding ways to make its beer more economically – read that as “cheaply” – including substituting less expensive ingredients and experimenting with a faster brewing process. Both of those choices resulted in occasional bad batches, still pushed out to consumers, or ones that tasted OK at first but quickly turned skunky.

I couldn’t document this story but heard it many times: When confronted with the “economizing” of Schlitz’s brewing process and the resulting bad batches of beer, the company CEO at the time told one interviewer, “Americans apparently want cheaper beer, and we’re giving it to them.”

A series of labor strikes pushed the company near bankruptcy, and Schlitz reluctantly sold itself to Stroh Brewery Co. in 1982. Then Stroh itself was sold in 1999 to Pabst Brewing Co., a shadow of its former self but at least on better financial ground. On May 15 of this year, Pabst announced it would discontinue production of Schlitz, but it gave permission to Wisconsin Brewing Co. to brew some final batches, which won’t be available till June. At least this brewing process isn’t being rushed.

I’m embarrassed to say, I drank a lot of Schlitz during those four college years. I hope I can snag some of this final batch … because “When you’re out of Schlitz, you’re out of beer.”

Maybe my Marquette hockey jersey still fits.