I was reading this morning — or maybe it was yesterday, I forget — that Diageo has canceled its Special Releases for 2026. No fanfare. No apology. Just silence where the casks used to whisper.
They’ve done this series since 2001 — rare, aged, sometimes absurdly priced single malts pulled from forgotten corners of their warehouses. Port Ellen, Brora, Lagavulin, Talisker — names that make grown men sigh like they just saw an old love walking down a Bangkok street.
No explanation. Not even a press release with three bullet points and a stock photo of a man in a tweed jacket holding a glass at 45 degrees. Just gone. Like my Moscow apartment keys. Like my wife’s patience. Like that bottle of 1972 Rosebank I swore I’d open on my 60th birthday — if I live that long.
