Sports Bars: Champs In The League

Though I don’t have a problem with a visit to The Sports Centre Café or a trip to Hoops, I’m not a huge fan of their ESPN meets family restaurant aesthetic. Sure the food’s tasty and the waitresses are hot, but half the TVs in the place are tuned to golf or NASCAR. I prefer a bar that features real sports; hockey, football, boxing… even baseball will do. Sports that people have been watching in bars for years, back to the days when your only choices were bottle or draft, pretzels or nuts. It’s not that I want to watch the Leafs on a vintage 13 inch B&W with a bowl of unshelled peanuts, but I’d appreciate it if the atmosphere was a little closer to the type of joint I drink in every other night of the week; dark, worn in and comfortable with a unique local charm.


Over the years I’ve settled on a few spots that deftly balance the ratio of flat screen plasmas, chesty broads and beer promos with a great wing recipe, dim lighting and a clientele that loves sports and serious drinking in equal measure. Toronto’s Main Event is good, as is Tiff’s in Barrie, but my favourite by far is Champs in Montreal. Believe it or not the ladies discovered this one. We boys were off in Ottawa watching the US get trounced by Slovakia at the World Juniors. Imagine our pleasant surprise when les filles texted us their location midway through the 3rd period, a franco tavern, tucked away on the second floor of a building on St. Laurent. We met them there later in the evening for the start of the Flyers game and immediately fell in love with the place. It’s difficult to quantify the experience, but I’ll begin by saying there is a living room lounge by the front window that has couches, recliners and more than a dozen TVs, each tuned to a game of your choice. If that’s not enough to sell you on the place, there’s an off track bookie upstairs and enough Habs memorabilia to fill a museum. Don’t even consider showing up sporting a Leafs jersey though; us anglos have historically handed the frogs their asses but these guys clearly weren’t on the battle lines. They were too busy putting away quarts of Cinquante and plates of poutine.

Reasons To Hit the Bottle, #1: You'll Never Be As Eloquent As A Drunk From Minneapolis

Exhibit A:

Temple Bar: Old Fashioned Drinking

Once in a while a guy’s got to step up, put down his sports beer and be a gentleman. When such an occasion arises it’s time to pick up a cocktail, preferably a classic one, in a low ball glass with a bare minimum of fruit, swords and other accruements. There are a number of suitable, masculine options, but my favourite is an Old Fashioned, a solid drink that tastes decent and won’t leave you looking like a total pussy. Invented at the Pendennis Club in Kentucky in the twilight of the 19th Century many scholars believe it is the world’s first cocktail. The recipe later made its way to the Waldorf-Astoria in New York, where, incidentally, you can also visit my favourite cocktail lounge, Lafayette Street’s Temple Bar, for their acclaimed version of the drink. If you’d prefer to give it a shot in the comfort of your own rec room, follow this traditional recipe from Garden and Gun magazine.

U of T: Frosh Food and Fucking Tour

Whether you're starting your first term at U of T or just enjoy drinking like a 17 year-old, this map should prove useful in plotting an off-the-chain-off-campus tour. In the interest of everyone else's sanity, please refrain from discussing Derrida, Foucoult, Sociology, The West Bank, the NDP, Jack Layton, Olivia Chow, "the other," ethnocentrism, Belmont Milds, Chomsky, No Logo, bicycling and labour unions.


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A. Duff's Wings - The best in Toronto. Lay the foundation for your night on the town with a pound of hot and a pitcher of beer.
B. Clinton's - Your BUG girlfriend is going to be hungry after an hour at Duff's lobbying for PETA. Stop here for a Coors while she tries the vegetarian poutine.
C. The Beer Station - Drop by McBeers for bargain domestics.
D. Paupers - Take the ladies to the rooftop patio for the poor man's panorama view of Toronto's downtown skyline.
E. The Tap - Catch the the third period, a shot of Jager and a game of tabletop pac man.
F. The Brunswick House - Wait in line for criminally cheap pitchers and liquored up coeds.
G. The Green Room - Sigor Ros and pad thai... really not as terrible as it sounds.
H. Bistro 422 - Find your balls again before visiting. Had enough to drink? Not yet! Grab an $8 pitcher.
I. Sneaky Dee's - Order the Kings Crown and eat it all yourself. You're going to need something to soak up all that booze.

Titties, Ass and Taco Dip: Betty's

Having just extolled the many virtues of Sneaky Dee’s, it’s difficult to come up with anything original to say about Betty’s, its kindred spirit on Toronto’s east side. Betty’s, originally known as The Betty Ford Clinic, is another equal opportunity boozer with a large, dedicated and diverse clientele of students (mainly from George Brown’s nearby campus), office workers and journalists. I most often find myself there with other publishing types (sometimes on business, but most often not), loaded to the gills on pints of Creemore and noshing Dennis’ Deep Six. This is a six layer dip you’ve truly got to taste to believe, but I’ll warn you now that it’s probably got a calorie count somewhere in the neighbourhood of a half dozen Baconators. If you’re putting back a dump truck of fat and carbs you might as well do it in an atmosphere tastefully appointed with dozens of classic tittie and ass posters from the eighties. Ladies, don’t let this deter you, the wife tells me you are well taken care of in this department as well; the women’s washroom features some stunning appreciations of the masculine corporeal form.

Other amenities: patio

The Monarch Tavern: Could I See The Wine List Please?

I’m heading to the Monarch Tavern tonight to watch the game and it's got me thinking about sandwiches. About a year ago Caplansky’s opened their smoked meat operation at the back of this chilled out neighbourhood joint and it’s become a bit of a destination. This is kind of a strange turn of events, as the Monarch’s not exactly the type of place you’d expect discerning diners to frequent; I doubt they’ve washed the floors in the past decade and their wine selection is limited to either house red or white. Nevertheless, the sandwiches are amazing and I’m more than happy to eat mine with a pint of Bud Lite. If you’re not familiar with Montreal smoked meat, I’d suggest you acquaint yourself as soon as possible and barring a trip to La Belle Province the Monarch is your best bet.


Other amenities: pool table, jukebox, Cherry Cott

This Side of Paradise: Sneaky Dee’s

Here’s what you need to know. Sneaky Dee’s has fucking amazing nachos. They also have incredibly cheap beer. Everyone in Toronto drinks there (students, lawyers, even my mom on occasion). Pretty much every band from Toronto has played there. It’s the type of bar you can bring your baby to, get in a fist fight at and listen to both Tom Petty and crazy shit like this:



Sneaky Dee’s is an alcoholic utopian’s Shangri-La, a place where everyone goes home drunk, happy and well fed, or, if you’d prefer to stay the night, they’ll make you brunch for four bucks.

If You’re Into That Kind of Thing: Three Places To Drink Bud By The 32oz Styrofoam Cup

The wife and I discovered this regional treat at Rosie's last spring. Looks like it's catching on...
1. Rosemary’s Greenpoint Tavern, a neigbourhood classic known for it's well stocked jukebox, reliably cheap booze and full size washroom.
2. Farrell’s Bar and Grill, well, actually no grill, but off duty NYPD/NYFD types hang out here so it must be good.
3. Jeremy’s Ale House is located in a converted loading dock under the Brooklyn Bridge. Picturesque? No. Unique? Yes.

Regional Resources: Sports Illustrated, Finding the Perfect Sports Bar

It’s a bit dated (2005), but this article and accompanying list should prove to be a valuable tool when planning your next sports trip. I can vouch for Nemo’s in Detroit, which was the second stop on our gentlemen’s getaway to Murder City last November for a NHL/NFL double header. The décor is a rather charming cross between a 1970’s pizza parlour and a small town VFW legion hall that’s especially welcoming after a stroll down deserted Michigan Avenue. Though the menu is sparse, “just burgers, chips and nuts after lunch,” service on paper plates is perfect for the $1 shuttle to the game. Hell, the bartender will even give you a beer for the road (in a plastic cup).

Post SoHo Sanity-Recovery System: A LES Dinner and Drinking Strategy

Ever spent an afternoon being dragged around SoHo while your wife shops for shoes? Ever wonder why the fuck there isn’t a single bar in the neighbourhood where you could relax? Me too. I don’t imagine this problem will be addressed in our lifetime but here’s the next best thing: a handy map to mental salvation… starting with a monstrous pastrami sandwich:


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A. Katz Deli – “New York’s Oldest and Best Delicatessen.” Suggested order: pastrami sandwich , a pickle on the side and a lemonade
B. Cake Shop – Café and noise rock venue. Suggested order: desert and coffee
C. Max Fish – Former Alleged Gallery social club. Suggested order: bottle of Bud
D. Slipper Room – David Lynchian burlesque bar. Suggested order: either a whiskey or a Coors… depends on what the ladies look like
E. Mason Dixon – Southern themed frat party complete with mechanical bull. Suggested order: shot and a beer
F. East Side Company Bar – Fancy pants speakeasy owned by the Milk and Honey people. Look for the door through a sheet of plywood beside the alleyway… there’s a small brass plate engraved with the address. Suggested order: an Old Fashioned, or something else suitably classy

New Day Rising: Hurricanes

When The Tap introduced grilled paninis I knew our time together had drawn to a close. Don’t get me wrong, The Tap remains one of the best bars in Toronto. You can still enjoy cheap pints of 50, shots of Jager and spirited table hockey matches overseen by four Elvis busts in full Kiss Army regalia. You’re welcome and encouraged to revel in their unholy marriage of professional sports and indie rock, but it’s just not for me anymore. I’ll miss Moe Berg’s Saturday night DJ set, but when the sandwiches came, my beloved bartenders, Chris and Jay, went. I’d wish I could say I’ve followed them to a sweet new haunt but sadly they’ve gone to lesser bars; Chris to the reviled Madison Pub and Jay to The Crooked Star, a trendy spot on Ossington which is surely less objectionable than the Maddie and its roofie slipping freshmen, but still less than inspired.



Instead, I’ve moved on to Hurricanes, which though not really a tavern, most certainly lives up to its billing as Roadhouse. I’m not exactly sure what Rubin Hurricane Carter has to do with the place, but his signature is proudly displayed on the wall beside my usual table. Hurricanes is much like The Tap was when I first visited years ago; a little rough around the edges, but comfortable as all get out. Lots of promotional clocks, neon signs and various sports bullshit adorn the walls and they’ve got an impressive collection of stubby bottles from the old days above the worn wooden bar. The clientele is largely neighbourhood folks; construction works, older men and sports fans… which doesn’t do much to explain the well stocked juke box (both The Replacements and Sir Mix a Lot) and hot punk rock waitresses. The service is friendly and attentive and they serve a good variety of beer, including 50, Bud and a nice selection of dad drinks (imports and micro brews). I’m just waiting for the night that Moe Berg discovers the place and moves his weekly gig over to Ossington and Bloor, then the transition will be complete.

Other amenities: covered patio out back, NHL Centre Ice

Putting Our Best Foot Forward: The Hamster

What better place to start this little tour than The Hammer; Hamilton that is, for those of you who don’t know Toronto’s worse half. Home to the Tiger Cats, the bottom feeders of the Canadian Football League (three downs not four), our national steel industry and a couple of my favourite bars; The Prince Edward Tavern and the Red Lion Inn aka Beers From Around The World. Make no mistake, these are bars, not pubs and neither of them would know what to do with a keg of Guinness if Santa left it on their doorstep. I came across these gems on our inaugural trip to the Labour Day Classic last August; I hope you’ll understand when I tell you that the details are a bit foggy, but here they are as I remember them:


The Red Lion Inn (King and Bay): This was stop number two on our tour, an early afternoon visit, following plastic tumblers of Molson Canadian at Joe Buttinsky’s on King Street, a cute little lounge annexed to the local strip club that featured a charming handwritten list of blacklisted patrons behind the bar and a note on the front door from the police outlawing glassware following a street fight the night before. The Red Lion, on the other hand, was an oasis of civility by comparison. Well, not really, but they did have glasses; 6 oz. glasses, like the ones favoured by veteran’s halls across the great Midwest. The bartender looked 65, but I’m guessing she was 40 and could have easily beat the snot out of our five person crew. She was, however, one of the sweetest ladies to pour beer (at least in Hamilton) and pour she did. Blue Light by the 18 oz glass at $2:50 (CA) as I remember. Other amenities: a couple of pool tables, a half dozen grizzled Sunday afternoon regulars, lots of wood panelling and a “snack bar.”

The Prince Edward Tavern (737 Barton Street East): We hit this hot spot much later in the day, around 5 pm, about an hour before kick off and it was packed to the gills with fans of both teams. City slickers we may be, but Argos fans we are not. Good thing, because we would have likely had to fight our way out of the place. The ladies led the charge rocking some sweet tiger eared caps and we honourable gents brought up the rear. Straight to the bar for a tray of Bud Light ($25 CA for twenty-five 6 oz glasses). Slammed those standing up then set off for Ivor Wynne to grab our seats, some sausages and tall cans of Coors.

Other amenities: the most wood panelling I’ve ever seen that wasn’t attached to a tree, a couple of televisions, TiCats paraphernalia, locals and a snack bar that I would actually consider eating from.