We look back 30 years on from Sunderland's 99p-a-pint Samson 'ordeal'

Obviously the days were becoming shorter and colder and Terry Butcher had been unable to manage Sunderland to the avoidance of defeats to Titans such as Notts County, Tranmere and Southend.

The Echo reported that more jobs were to go in engineering on the Wear, while production cuts were announced at Nissan.

Then there was the horror of the singles charts, with Meat Loaf’s unspeakable I’d Do Anything for Love (But I Won’t Shut Up) at number one and Mariah Carey’s Hero not far behind, even though it was so awful as to be barely legal.

To put the tin hat on things, according to a hard-hitting Echo story, a pint of beer in this city cost a crippling average of £1.30 to £1.45.

However, they say it’s always darkest before dawn. They’re wrong of course, but you know what they’re getting at and things were about to perk up.

On November 25 Terry Butcher heard on the radio that he’s been sacked, ushering in a pulsating new era under Mick Buxton.

The economic situation would improve in just a few short years, while I Would Do … etc was finally displaced from the top of the charts by Mr Blobby, whereby we realised that Mr Loaf wasn’t so bad after all.

But it was Vaux Breweries who gave us the big one.

The offer

Vaux had announced that a pint of Samson would cost just 99p for the duration of November 1993. An impromptu celebration began on Monday, November 1 when everyone went out to mark the occasion with a drink – of Samson, obviously.

It should be noted that three decades of varying levels of inflation have now taken a toll on the general purchasing power of 99p; although we should caveat this by pointing out that in 1993, 99p could buy you … virtually zilch, the same as now.

Yet at around the time when the first pound shops were opening, they were already being undercut by Vaux.

The Echo reported that the offer would last “from 1 to 31” of November; perhaps optimistically adding an extra day to the month.

Disappointed lager drinkers received no such largesse from Vaux, whose managing director Frank Nicholson, said: “Selling our quality products at this special promotion price is designed to attract new customers, to boost trade and to support our licensees for the benefit of all of us.”

The brewery committed £500,000 to the promotion of Wards Bitter, but mainly Samson, and drinkers took up the offer with gusto. In some cases a little too much gusto.

November is customarily not a great month for pubs. November 1993 was particularly bad for establishments which were Samsonically challenged.

The effect

Vaux houses, on the other hand, were nicely stuffed due to the brave promotion (loss leader?). The Echo published a list of 45 participating Wearside inns. These include now departed pubs such as the Crown and Anchor in Castletown, Laburnum Cottage in Hendon, Sinatra’s and the Pallion Inn.

Sara Wilson was – and still is – in charge of the Museum Vaults on Silksworth Row. She told the Echo: “There are a few Scotch drinkers who have come and seen the offer and switched to Samson.” Imagine. We’re talking life changing stuff here.

It seems unlikely that Vaux’s marketing strategy was so cynical as to aim the promotion at the specific demographic of the young, the stupid, the greedy and the badly paid. But if it was, then they scored all four in the case of my friends and me.

With beer normally as much as a dizzying £1.45 a pint, we “reasoned” that every time we bought and guzzled Samson 99p we were somehow gaining up to 46p. At no stage during this November did it occur to us that we were simply 99p worse off.

This was pointed out to us, but somehow we never quite believed it. Mathematics and logic were on our side.

Samson was and remains a beautiful, locally produced ale. But any set of taste buds can be dulled by repetition, even if it’s vintage Dom Pérignon.

Mind you, if the pubs of Sunderland had been ladling out vintage Dom Pérignon for 98p a pint during the month of November 1993, my coterie of dimwits and I would have tweaked our purchasing policy accordingly.

It would be unfair to say we didn’t have the sense we were born with; but it was touch and go. We could have occasionally splashed out that additional, exorbitant 31p-46p for what some people were already calling “something else”.

An even more radical alternative would have been to not go to the pub at all for a bit. As far as our health went it would have been the preferred option, but as I said, we were a bit thick.

Aftermath

Our forebears had been through much: wars, depression, rationing. They were in turn aware of what we were going through – far too much Samson, but showed what we considered to be a disappointing lack of empathy.

As the month wore on we were hoping that someone would arrange a stag night in Blackpool, as that would have seen a reduction in our drinking.

The month, which had begun with such hearty over-indulgence, became one which we now wanted to end. But we got through it. Together. Like comrades.

Despite the relief when the promotion ended, we harboured hopes that it would one day return. That hope died in 1999 when Vaux Breweries was closed by people who were far greedier for dividends than even we had been for 99p Samson.

November 1993 is one reason why I rarely drink these days. December 1, 1993 was one of the quietest Fridays in the pub that anyone could remember.