With him would perish another piece of the rich Czech brewing tradition. As lager lovers know, Czech territory is to beer what Burgundy is to wine. “Liquid bread” has been made here for a millennium, and the Czechs annually chug about 160 liters per capita– by far the most in the world. But more and more, they’re drinking products poured by foreigners, who have bellied up to the bar in a big way since the Czechs joined the global economy. Japanese investment bank Nomura now owns the two largest Czech breweries and Britain’s Bass owns the third largest. With plenty of money for modernization and marketing, they and other outsiders control 55 percent of a market that’s looking increasingly like everyone else’s. There are still 55 breweries in this small country, but they’re closing fast: 15 since 1989, and the Czech Small Brewers’ Association says a further 15 could expire in the next few years.

Corry doesn’t mean to be one of them. The 37-year-old Virginian says he has been working 70 to 80 hours a week since he gave up a career as a consultant on transition economies to buy Herold from a former state institution a year ago. He still brews the old-fashioned way, in large, open-top fermentation tubs, barrel-aging his beer for 45 days. But his ambitions, like his marketing tactics, are newfangled. You couldn’t buy Herold in Prague pubs last fall; now 20 of them serve it. Ultimately, Corry plans to sell 60 percent of Herold’s production abroad, mainly in the United States.

First, though, he’s got to survive the beer-brawl at home. Small brewers already complain that the big guys are getting exclusive deals with bars by giving them low-interest loans. The fight is only going to get worse. In March Nomura won permission from the government to wring further efficiencies from its two main properties, Plzensky Prazdroj and Radegast, by merging them. Now it’s planning to sell a stake in the new Goliath to another big global brewer–possibly Anheuser-Busch of the United States (box).

Nomura’s move drew fire from as far afield as Britain. The Campaign for Real Ale says the merger is likely to lead to a loss of choice for the Czech beer drinker, with “Euro-fizz” continuing to supplant local brands. It urges small brewers to push the quality and taste of their product.

In fact, small brewers have to push every way they can. That’s what Corry did on a recent trip to the Prague Zoo, where he persuaded the zoo to pour his beer at concession stands–and agreed to sponsor the feeding of several animals, including a penguin. “It’s because he looks like a waiter,” Corry explains.

In the United States, nimble marketing–and good beer–have enabled microbreweries to carve out a profitable niche in a tough, homogenized market. Corry says he has yet to earn a return on the “several hundred thousand dollars” he and partners have invested in Herold. But he is selling a lot more beer. Perhaps an American will be the one to figure out how a 500-year-old brand can thrive in the 21st-century Czech Republic.