How good am I?

I am panicking already, and the cap-off is a month away! I just can't handle the pressure, you know?
Every March, instead of the monthly staff meeting we always have the first Tuesday of the month, we hold a cappucino making contest called the cap-off. It gives all us baristas a chance to show off our ever-growing skills to eachother in a competitive environment. The winner receives $150 and I think 2nd place wins like $75 or something. Not bad. Considering we're all starving artists and students, there is nothing more appealing than cold hard cash.
There will be three judges, a couple of whom used to work at the cafe, and then someone else, usually some longtime aqquaintence of boss lady's who happens to know a thing or two about coffee (or not). The judges sit in a private area so that they can't see who's pouring which cap- so it's fair. They judge on things like proper extraction of the espresso, the milk texture, the cap's appearance, and whether it has the proper amount of foam. Last year, after drinking all that espresso and milk and mixing it up with shots of whiskey, the judges started running off to the bathroom to puke, one by one. Then one of the judges (boss's friend who used to host a show on TLC and thinks he's hot shit) came out of the bathroom after the contest was over and he was so pathetically wasted he grabbed the mic from our official cap-off MC and started ranting about how bad our caps were. He was kidding I guess, but he sounded like such a beligerent drunk that we all thought he was serious and went home feeling bad about ourselves.
I can't handle the cap-off. Never could, never will. Every year I expect it to get easier, especially now that I'm a trainer and am responsible for teaching people how to pour exquisite caps. But I still break into a cold sweat at the mere mention of the cap-off. This is not a surprise to me. I suffer from stage fright, I've had my share of panic attacks and moments of agorophobia. I wish, though, that my body would at least allow me to have fun and get into the competitive spirit like everyone else.
With my co-workers watching, I tremble profusely and become so distracted by my nervousness that I forget to watch my shots, and then I pour sloppily and serve a below-par cappuccino with tears in my eyes. This happens every year, and I hate it. I am hoping to somehow overcome this hurdle and triumph next month, but who knows.
I'll discuss this matter in the future, as the contest approaches. I'll even share techniques with you!!