D. Berhner

IN OLDEN DAYS, when life was so much simpler, a few guys would stand around and watch pilots doing impromptu maneuvers in their Taperwing Wacos and Ryan trainers. Then they would talk it over and decide who had flown best and who hadn't. The winner got the trophy and the cash, and everyone else grumbled. It wasn't a very precise way of judging an aerobatic contest, but it was the best they had. And it was also a wide open opportunity for bias, and for building up the reputation of a pilot the judges liked, and for discouraging newcomers. But as long as aerobatic championships carried about as much prestige as professional wrestling titles, not very many people lost sleep over it. It was more show than sport, anyway.