"He saw that his pants were torn and blood was running down his leg."

An excerpt from “The Million-Dollar Nose,” William Langewiesche’s 2000 Atlantic article about the sometimes-perilous life of oenophile Robert Parker, who holds great sway among the grape-squashing set:

“Parker was in his hotel room in Bordeaux one night, working on the day’s notes, when he got a phone call from Jacques Hébrard, the family manager of a famous chateau called Cheval Blanc,whose recent vintage Parker had described as a disappointment. Because Hébrard was very angry, Parker agreed to visit the chateau the following night, after his regular schedule of work, in order to retaste the wine. At the agreed-upon time he knocked on the chateau door. When it opened, a snarling schnauzer came out, leaped into the air, and clamped onto Parker’s leg. Hébrard stood in the doorway, staring into Parker’s face and making no attempt to intervene. After several attempts Parker managed to shake off the dog, which went tumbling into the night. Parker followed Hébrard into an office, where he saw that his pants were torn and blood was running down his leg. He asked Hébrard for a bandage. Hébrard came across the room and glanced disdainfully at the wound. Without saying a word, he went to the far side of a desk, pulled out a copy of The Wine Advocate, and slammed it down hard. He said, ‘This is what you wrote about my wine!’

In his simplified French, Parker said, ‘That’s why I’m here. To retaste it. Because you think I’m wrong.’

‘Well, I’m not going to let you retaste it.’

Parker got as belligerent as he gets. He said, ‘Look. I came here at the end of the day. You said I could taste your wine. I’ve been bitten by your dog. If I was wrong about this wine, I will be the first to say so.'”

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Parker queried in 2003 by Charlie Rose, who seems fairly fermented himself.