Man, no one wants a Rolling Rock, not even the people who own it.

The death knell for this brand was when they took the brand HQ from Latrobe, PA — where it had kind of a small town charm; sure, it was crappy beer, but it was Eastern Pennsylvania beer, the drink of the blue collar man — to the swamps of North Jersey and made an ill-fated attempt to market it to 20-something New Yorkers. Not coincidentally, Yuengling is still alive and well, because their plan to go national was much more measured — expanding slowly around their base, and seeping into the collective beer-scape. (Well, that and the fact that as far as American macrobrews go, there’s not many more inoffensive beers than Yuengling. Rolling Rock was always just a pale Bud clone. But I digress.)