This monthly blog is at risk of becoming a quarterly one, forgive me. Call it drinker’s block, but despite the last few months including Christmas celebrations, I haven’t really drunk anything that exciting. The weather has been more conducive to beer, and while I’ve had a few of those, again, nothing stands out, so here we are at the end of February with little to report.

Fortunately, my muse finally reappeared in the shape of a $12 Bordeaux from Aldi. It wasn’t that the wine was particularly good, it wasn’t – we failed to finish it even with my father here – no, the reason the wine inspired me to write was the gold medal proudly displayed on its chest.

Banks, car makers, sausage makers and wine makers all love awards – maybe not as much as advertising agencies, and awards can be misleading.

I have a few medals from my rowing days but none from any of the truly important regattas. If you didn’t know your rowing events, I looked pretty good on paper. A friend of mine proudly displays a certificate from his egg and spoon race victory aged 4. Not taking anything away from his athleticism, it looks more impressive than it is.

The gold medal (actually two) on this particular bottle of Bordeaux was from the China Wine and Spirit Awards. I suspect it’s the oenological equivalent of the Boston Regatta (Boston in Lincolnshire UK) where I do recall winning something. It reminds me that the winner isn’t just the best on the day, it’s also the least worst on the day and I hate to think what that wine was up against that day.

Like regattas, the important thing is to know who is awarding the medal. Some wines sport medals like a Soviet Field Marshall on a May day parade, but where do these medals come from? Were they great military strategists, or merely Politburo stooges?

I can remember how important the Jimmy Watson Trophy at the Melbourne Wine show used to be when I worked in the industry – it was the equivalent of a Commonwealth Games Gold in the 100 metre freestyle. A Google search tells me the 2018 winner was a Xanadu cabernet blend from 2016. The last one I can remember was a Riddoch Coonawarra Cabernet from, well, a time when Soviet Field Marshalls still marched on May Day parades. Today, points seem more relevant, but either way the wine tastings can be misleading.

What tends to happen is that the biggest wine wins; anything before it looks feeble, anything after is hard to taste. And the biggest wine isn’t necessarily the best. Subtleties and complexities are overlooked, a more refined and enjoyable dinner companion can be discarded.

Then there’s the fact that not everyone enters wine shows, Mount Mary certainly didn’t. So the best wines may not be in the contest – anyone remember the 1980 Moscow Olympics?

The Academy Awards commence in a few hours. I’ve seen four of the eight movies nominated for Best Picture and on that basis, I hope Green Book wins. Proof that the only opinion that matters is your own.