An evening of wine, friendly competition, and the surprisingly serious business of supporting the Arlington Players Club, our local red clay killer tennis club. I have my white impeccable Fred Perry outfit ready to be used.
There is a theory that modern society is becoming increasingly disconnected. I have been listening to Kraftwerk for 45 years and news flash, society has been disconnected since the 1970s! Fast forward from Krautrock to today’s Musky society.
We have more ways to communicate than at any point in human history, yet somehow we keep finding new ways to sit alone, staring at screens, wondering where everybody went.
Then there are evenings like our wine tasting fundraiser at APC.
People gathered around eight rectangular tables in that 1909 four walled room. They asked questions- Sue defenitely gets the award here, they challenged one another, laughed, compared impressions, and, when the opportunity presented itself, revealed that beneath the civilized exterior of a wine enthusiast lies the competitive instincts of a courtroom attorney and the sporting spirit of a tennis player who believes the ball was very clearly in. So 1982 McEnroe!
It was a terrific evening. More importantly, it was a reminder of what happens when a community comes together to support one of its own.
First, the wine.
We were fortunate to welcome my friend and young wine producer Paulo Fernandes, who introduced the second vintage, the 2024, of his Limia Vinho Verde. There is something particularly rewarding about hearing directly from a producer. A bottle is no longer simply a collection of aromas, flavors, and technical specifications. It becomes the expression of a person’s decisions, a place, and a continuing effort to get something right.
The Limia gave us a fitting starting point: a wine rooted in Portugal’s Atlantic-influenced Vinho Verde region, with the freshness, citrus character, and lively acidity that make the Loureiro grape such an engaging companion at the table.
From there, I took the group on a journey through five more wines, each offering a different perspective on the relationship between grape, place, and the decisions made in the cellar.
Château Gigognan’s Viognier brought its expressive stone-fruit character and floral aromas. Muga Blanco offered a different interpretation of white wine, combining the freshness of Rioja with texture and complexity from its winemaking. Valleij and Niepoort added further chapters to the conversation, while Thistledown’s Thorny Devil Old Vine Grenache from McLaren Vale brought us into the world of vibrant red fruit, spice, and finely balanced structure.
Six wines. Different regions, grapes, and philosophies. One room full of people willing to taste, think, ask questions, and occasionally disagree- right Jen?
That last part is important. A good tasting is not a lecture in which the audience politely waits for the expert to finish speaking. It is a conversation. The best questions often come from someone who is trying to understand why a wine tastes the way it does, rather than simply memorizing what somebody else says it should taste like.
Wine, after all, is a beautiful effective way to bring people together. Dionysus knew it, right Stathis? It rewards curiosity, invites discussion, and reminds us that two people can taste the same glass and arrive at entirely different conclusions without either needing to be declared the enemy of civilization.
Then came the quiz.
Naturally, we had to finish with a competition.
It began innocently enough. A few questions about the wines, their grapes, their origins, and the concepts we had discussed throughout the evening. A chance to discover whether everyone had been paying attention, or had simply been waiting for the next pour.
Then the rules became a matter of public interest.
Should participants write their answers down? Should they call them out? Should the questions be answered in the style of Jeopardy!?
For those unfamiliar with the program, contestants are expected to respond in the form of a question. The correct response to a clue might therefore be, “What is terroir?”
Simple enough, you might think.
But introduce a room full of enthusiastic people, a scoreboard, and the prospect of bragging rights, and suddenly the administration of a wine quiz becomes a constitutional crisis.
The rules were debated. Interpretations were offered. Competitive instincts emerged. Somewhere between the first question and the final score, the fundraiser had acquired the atmosphere of a championship match.
At APC, apparently, even the wine quiz requires a ruling from the chair umpire.
And that was precisely the fun of it.
The point was never just the wine.
We should not underestimate the value of these gatherings.
A tennis club is not simply a collection of courts, schedules, memberships, and maintenance bills. It is a community held together by shared experiences, friendships, rivalries, traditions, and the willingness of people to contribute something beyond their own immediate enjoyment.
Fundraising is part of that equation. But the best fundraising events do more than raise money. They remind people why the institution deserves their support in the first place.
An evening like this creates connections between people who might otherwise have little reason to sit together. It gives community residents and members a chance to participate in something different, to learn something new, and to discover that their fellow club members have opinions about wine that can be every bit as forceful as their opinions about a questionable line call.
That is how a community sustains itself: not through membership lists alone, but through participation.
And participation need not always mean playing tennis, organizing a tournament, or volunteering for a committee. Sometimes it means buying a ticket, bringing a friend, asking a question, pouring a glass, or enthusiastically disputing the rules of a quiz.
Small acts, repeated by enough people, become the foundation of something durable.
A toast to APC.
The evening worked because people came ready to participate. They listened, learned, laughed, competed, and helped support our tennis club in the process.
Paulo Fernandes brought his wine and his perspective as a producer. The wines gave us a journey across regions and styles. The participants supplied the questions, the laughter, and the competitive energy that turned a tasting into an experience.
And the quiz supplied the inevitable reminder that no community gathering is complete until somebody believes the rules need to be clarified.
That is a good problem to have.
We spend a great deal of time discussing what institutions need to do to attract and retain members. Sometimes the answer is less complicated than we imagine. Give people a reason to gather, something worthwhile to share, and an opportunity to contribute to a place they care about.
Then let the evening take care of itself.
The bottles are empty. The scores have been debated. The winners can enjoy their moment of glory, until the next competition, when we can revisit the rules yet again.
But the real victory belonged to APC.
Because the most important thing we raised that evening was not a glass.
It was a little more community.
Cheers to our club president Lynn, Dawn, Michelle, Dave, and Jean who made it happen. And to those already preparing their appeal over the quiz rules: we look forward to seeing you at the next fundraiser.
Renato da Silva
NEUwine
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