The Hammer: San Leonardo Gonzaga 1999

This wine was so good. It was meant for greatness.

He was always shy, quiet, introverted. But when he got a guitar in his hands, he bent the world to his will in the garages of Jackson, Mississippi. You watched a small dose of fame twist lesser musicians into blowhards who would rest on their laurels (or their parents couches) for the rest of their lives. Not this guy. He got more critical of himself the more accolades he collected. He pushed forward. You thought maybe this was going to be a happy story. The girls finally noticed him, record companies wanted to talk to him. The last thing you saw coming was drugs. You watched him waste away. You begged him to stop. To eat. To sleep. He wouldn't. That night, he started wobbling on stage at The Feenicks, and as he finished the second to last song, he pukes on stage. You knew he was drunk, but it was blood. Drunk people don't puke blood. The applause dies abruptly, people are gasping and waiting for him to collapse. But he doesn't. In slow motion you see him raise his arm to his face and wipe blood away from his mouth.

"The show isn't over."

The crowd explodes with screaming and thunderous applause. He steadies the guitar and looks at you, his eyes are watering. You know the truth. He is dying in front of you. They fire up the last song, and the whole building is shaking, he's screaming, with red teeth, into the microphone, into oblivion. You aren't sure if its real or not, but he's turning white, even as he finishes. You call 911. He throws the guitar on the ground and staggers backstage in huge exaggerated steps. You found him in the bathroom, sitting down, with an unlit cigarette in his mouth. The toxicology report might as well've just said, "Yes."

It was the best show anyone ever saw at The Feenicks or anywhere.

San Leonardo is a Bordeaux-style red made in Trentino, Italy. It will blow your mind with its humble brilliance- you'll drink Milwaukee's Best with it on the roof till the sun comes up. You'll bring it subway meatball subs after it plays its heart out in shitty dive bars. You'll burst into tears when the paramedics look up at you and say, "I'm so sorry." You will remember it long after it is gone.