Dukes: Blizzards, Duke and MSNBC

Dukes Bar is located at 700 Michigan
St. SE in Grand Rapids, MI

With the most recent round of winter weather. Wait, you’re telling me winter doesn’t start till December 23? Who says? Scientists? Well, scientists are wrong.

With this week’s winter-like weather, and with nobody to freeze underneath a blanket with, I braved the conditions and set out for another night of drinking—and trying to stay warm.

Luckily, I do not live to far from Duke’s, located here, and was able to put on my boots and slowly waddle to the bar for a burger and beer.

Dukes is probably in last place in Grand Rapids’ Michigan St. bar power rankings. (If such rankings existed—note to self: make rankings).

The bar doesn’t get as much foot traffic as Birch Lodge or Logan’s, and doesn’t have that down-to-earth feel of Bob’s Sports Bar.

Nonetheless, I was able to find a spot at the bar, which sits 14 and had 12 there that night—turns out nobody wants to be at home while it’s freezing.

I asked the bartender for a Founder’s Breakfast Stout and took in the bar’s scene.

The place has about six tables and a pool table with a chalkboard that reads ‘Free Pool Monday’. Sweet, too bad it’s not Monday. But good for future reference.

You could tell it was a couple playing pool, seeing how the two playing were giving each other kisses after every made shot…definitely not normal pool night protocol. Either way, the dude playing could hit water if he jumped out of a boat, and the girls was…just bad. Which was good, I wasn’t in the mood for billiards.

On the television North Carolina was playing Duke. Yes football, both schools do play football. 

Which the rather drunk gentlemen to my left was in total disbelief over.

‘How can a school like North Carolina and Duke have football teams, that doesn’t make any sense?’ 

At this point he was tapping me on the shoulder, so I’m guessing he wanted me to contribute the conversation.

I explained to him that both schools are Division I schools, so it really isn’t all that far-fetched that they play football. Even if they are not that good.

But, being the sports reporter that I am, I had to take it further—why, I don’t know. I knew he was drunk, I knew he was an asshole, but I just had to talk about sports with somebody. I was weak.

I was explaining that Duke (at the time) was on top of its division in the ACC, and that this game actually had some meaning.

‘Shut up, you are wrong. That’s not right.’ Luckily for me, the dude’s friend who was sitting on his left pulled out his smartphone and confirmed what I said.

‘Well that’s just stupid, look at them, they’re Duke’. Granted Duke was losing 20-7, so that is fair to say that they aren’t really that good.

Oh my God. I just realized that I’m talking about Duke at Duke’s. How did I miss that? It’s almost meta. Meta-Duke, that’s a word now. I’m making that a word, take that, Shakespeare.

At this point I asked for a food menu and ordered up a bacon cheeseburger with onion rings on it. 

Yeah, once you see that on the menu, it’s pointless to resists.

The two were still going on about college football, and the man next to me asked what I would do to fix the University of Michigan football program.

I replied: Nothing, I like the program that way that it is now-losing.

He then accused me of being an Ohio State final, and I corrected him, noting that I was Notre Dame fan.

“Fuck you and everything you believe in.” Well, turns out the guy does not like Notre Dame, and he wanted me to know that.

“You know what is wrong with people like you?” Well, this could go a thousand different places.

“You’re not in a conference.” Oh, that’s where we are going; good. Was worried this was actually going to be serious for a second.

‘You all don’t play in a conference, and you just schedule a bunch of weak teams.”

“Yeah, you’re right. We even scheduled Michigan. They’re noticeably terrible.”

He didn’t like my comeback. But he did shut up for a while so I could eat my burger.

I did tell him that Notre Dame was in the ACC for every other sport, save ice hockey, but the man insisted I was wrong and they are independent for everything.

At this point I didn’t know if the man was just drunk or stupid. Both? It’s normally both.

The two eventually cleared out and I was left by myself at the end of the bar. I ordered a New Holland Ichabod.

I started thinking as to why not as many people like Duke’s and they do the bar’s neighbors. The place seems really relaxed, but you have a hard time figuring out just what kind of bar it is.

You see. All bars have a certain feel to them. Being a dive bar, home-like bar, sports bar, dance bar, whatever. But Duke’s seems to be a place that doesn’t know what it wants to me, so it tries to mix everything. One of those things where if you try to please everybody, it makes nobody happy.

The bar has some nice widescreen TVs for watching sports, but the food menu seems a little off for a sports bar. But the walls and looks of the place don’t quite have a home-bar like feeling to it, it just seems like an odd mix.

Granted, that’s necessarily a terrible thing. Maybe the bar is what you make of it. The place has about six craft beers on tap and it is plenty spacious so you aren’t right on top of the group next you and in on their conversation (which is bad if you are looking to do some casual eavesdropping…not that I do that or anything).

Two of the four televisions had ESPN on, while another had ABC (seriously, who watches ABC) and another had MSNBC. MSNBC? At a bar? It’s not unheard of to have news at the bar, but it is usually CNN or sometimes (gulp) FoxNews. But even those with left-leaning political persuasions have to admit that MSNBC is just now what you see at a bar, for whatever reason.

OK, weird sidebar: Heckler: ‘Sidebar’ hell, this entire blog is nothing but a sidebar.

MSNBC’s motto is ‘Lean Forward’. Cute, I know. A plan on that whole ‘progressive’ idea (if progressives realized that they are Whigs in disguise, then they will freak out and go straight to the bar to order hard liquor. That would make me smile. It will also mean they can come back to the party after defecting in 1912, cowards). Anyway, I keep thinking of all the MSNBC anchors leaning forward, towards the camera while broadcasting the news. And anybody at the MSNBC who is caught leaning back is immediately terminated—that’s how they got Olbermann.

The bartenders were really nice and didn’t comment on how I look too young to buy a drink, always appreciated if you are short and tired of people telling you look like you’re 18.

Duke’s is probably a good place if you are in pair or only 3-4 friends. They have a solid selection of burgers and sandwiches and a craft beer selection that is not that impressive by Grand Rapids standards, but would be good anywhere else.

I settled my tab and put on my coat, cap and gloves: Got to love Michigan winter, right?

So what if the bar doesn’t know what it wants to be, a lot of people don’t know what they want. And maybe this is the place for them. Take it from a guy who drinks by himself and then goes home to write about it.

Overall a good experience.

Seriously, watch Duke at Dukes. I can’t be the only one who thought of that was funny,

Or maybe I’m just that out there. 

Tip Top Deluxe: Cellphones, @midnight and the Adams Family

Tip Top Deluxe is located at 760 Butterworth
St. SW in Grand Rapids, Michigan

Last Tuesday, in a desperate attempt to cover up my lack of a social life (I blame the system), I took a late-night detour through the Westside.

Looking for nightcap I wound up at Tip Top Deluxe, located here. (My friend Matt suggested this place for my next Barstool Banter—thanks Matt!!)

I’ve been to Tip Top one other time, to see a friend’s band. The place is pretty spacious for a bar that is noticeably out of the way, with a stage in the corner and plenty of places to sit.

Outside of a group of people at one of the tables and the eight or so people at the bar, the place was for the most part dead. Turns out Tuesday is comedy night at the bar, but seeing I have a work/sleep schedule of an insomniac, I missed the show.

Still, I took a seat at the bar and ordered an Atwater Vanilla Java Porter while doing my usual round of people watching.

True to its show-like atmosphere, the bar has cool posters of old rock n’ roll acts and movies from the 1950s. Nostalgia posters and signs, always nice touch (Oh dear God, I’m beginning to sound like American Pickers….moving on).

About two seats down from me was a young women drinking a gin and tonic looking down at her smartphone. Alright, here we go.

And there is some taller dude with darker hair than mine who just sat next to her and she completely turned away from me to give him her full attention.

Damn. Wait, if she was with the dude, why was she on her damn phone. I mean, sure I’m on my phone. But I’m not with anybody else, I need the interaction. But when you have a real, live person to talk to, why don’t you give them their attention.

Ah, crap. This is turning into a soapbox that nobody wants to listen to (Heckler: Yeah, like the rest of this blog Ho Ho Ho).

Yep, just did a Muppets reference there. That just happened.

Eventually, the couple left and I ordered another New Holland Poet. The Colbert Report was on the television with the volume turned up, which was a nice touch for a bar with not a lot of people in it.

At the opposite end the bar was a rather drunk young woman who was having a very load conversation with the bartender, though I’m sure she did not think she was all that loud.

She was trying to hike up her jeans to show the bartender a scar she got from bass fishing. Yes, I kid you not. This woman had a sizable hook-shaped scar from a bass fishing accident—I feel honored that picked the right bar at the right time to see this wonder. A bass fishing accident, holy hell, Jerry Maguire was right. (Jerry Maguire, now that’s a movie I haven’t seen in a while….putting that on the to-do list. Right after I make said to-do list).

Luckily for her, and society in general, a dude walked into the bar and grab the women by the arm and hooked (sorry had to use that word) around his shoulder and escorted her out of the bar. (Hey, that will be his easiest catch of the night—OK, no more fishing puns, I promise.)

Luckily, that was not the end of comedic enjoyment for the night. As a show on Comedy Central called @midnight was on. Now, it could be that I was working on my third stout of the night (sorry, I forgot the name, my I do make an effort to drink more stouts during the colder months, it reminds me of Liverpool).

Note: No, I’ve never been to Liverpool, I just imagine they drink stouts all the time. Prove me wrong, damit.

For those that don’t know, @Midnight is a relatively new show on Comedy Central. The gist of the show is that three stand-up comedians compete in a game show where they make jokes on material they have never seen before.

This particular show featured Randy Sklar, Jason Sklar and Rob Riggle, and by God I thought every minute of it was hysterical.

At this point of the night, roughly 12:20 a.m., nobody else was in the bar except me and the bartender, so I was A-OK cracking up like a lunatic while watching this—again, third stout of the night.

The bartender eventually turned to me and told me that he was thinking about closing up soon. Turns out that Tip Top Deluxe usually closes around 12:30 a.m. on Tuesdays because of the comedy show.

The bar tender explained that most people just see the show around 10 and clear out by 11:30 to go home or go find another bar—but he always appreciates the late-night visitors who stop by and don’t heckle the night’s act.

With that in mind, I downed the rest of my stout and left a nice tip considering I was the last person in the bar. (Please don’t go through the archives of the blog—mostly because that’s sad—but I’m pretty sure this was the first Barstool Banter where I was the last person in the bar, so we got that going for me, which is nice.

All and all, I would say that Tip Top Deluxe is a solid place to visit if you are on the Westside.

Admittedly, it is a bit off the beaten path on the Westside, and by beaten path I mean Fulton St. (Which is pretty much is Grand Rapids’ Yellow Brick Road, everything is on Fulton St.)

The bar features some pinball machines near the entrance, including an Adams Family machine I wanted to just go I could hear the theme (snap, snap).

The place has a really relaxed atmosphere, which is a must for a good bar, and is a pretty good place to see a show (be it rock and roll or comedy). The acoustics of the place work out so you can both view the show, but still hear the person next you if you so choose.

Unless you were that one young women who was burying her nose into her smartphone, what was that all about.

Sorry. I’m just part of a dying breed of people who enjoy actually talking to (or about) real people. 

We promise our kind will be extinct soon.

(Click, click). Damn, it’s just catchy. 

Bob's Sports Bar: Pawn Stars, tacos and geography

Bob's Sports Bar is located at 725 Michigan St. NE
in Grand Rapids, Michigan 

After a brief existence in residential limbo (thanks to all the poor, unfortunate souls that had to deal with me for the past few weeks) I was able to venture out to a local bar for some much needed banter.

And banter is exactly what I got, as I spent a Monday night at Bob’s Sports Bar, located here.

Bob’s is another bar located in the Michigan St. corridor, but has the distinction of being the street’s only true sports bar---unlike another ‘sports’ bar that I’m thinking of--not to name names.

It was a pretty small crowd at the bar, pretty much nobody was in the seating area of the bar except two people. The bar sits about 10, and I was able to take one of the two open seats at the bar.

I ordered a Founder’s Centennial IPA from the bar’s fridge of craft beer and started watching the History Channel’s Pawn Stars on one of the TVs. Points for having the History Channel on; loss of said points because it’s Pawn Stars and not real history.

There were three older gentlemen to my left all drinking Budweiser (it’s one of those bars) and gentlemen in a Spectrum Health nurses uniform to my right. The bar is only a few blocks from the hospital, so I imagine it’s a natural ‘go to’ spot for all the hospital workers.

Much to my chagrin, there were no women at the bar, save the bartender. I overheard the gentlemen to my left saying that Monday was guy’s night, and that there are no women at Bob’s on Monday. (Now you know, and knowing is half the battle).

I was the only person at the bar that was not a regular, as one of the gentlemen to my left—named Frank—did a roll call of people who are absent.

Another guy at the far-right of the bar gave a reason for every name that called, ranging from hospitalized, to being with his wife and ‘I don’t think he’s around anymore’. I wasn’t sure if ‘I don’t think he’s around anymore meant the person was not in town anymore, or the person was no longer on the Earth—I thought best not to pursue the matter.

I was finishing my IPA when one of the gentlemen to my left ask if I was a veteran. I told him I was not, and he responded with ‘Oh, damn. If you were I’d buy a drink. No harm’.

I told him I was sorry, but he said not to worry about it. But that is a good idea, especially to day/this week/whenever you read this drivel, if you see a veteran, buy them a drink. It’s the right thing to do.

I was getting pretty hungry and asked the bartender for a menu. She said that had a special: two tacos with chips and salsa with a domestic pint for five dollars. As a general rule for the blog, I always go for the special to get the essence or zeitgeist for all you German speakers out there of the bar.

Blogger fun fact: ‘Zeitgeist’ does not come up on the Word spellchecker, win for the day. Yeah, it doesn’t take much to make me smile.

Since I had to order a domestic, the beer snob in me did my best to make the most of the situation and I ordered a Labatt Blue. Because Canada and Michigan are pretty much the same—right?

When the tacos arrived, the bartender also changed the channel of all the TVs to the Monday Night Football game. For shame, I was interested in see how much money a guy was going to get for his horn that was allegedly played by Jimmy Hendrix. (Wait, why do I care, the show is stupid, dammit, that’s how they get you.)

I was digging into my tacos when the nurse to my right who had his nose buried in his smart phone the entire time asked me if it was beef or chicken in the tacos. I answered beef, seriously, what kind of person ordered chicken tacos, communists?

He asked if I thought they were good, which I said they were. (For me, tacos are one of those foods that is hard to screw up. Most tacos taste just like tacos. There really isn’t much of a difference between good tacos and bad tacos. They all seem to get the job done.)

He then stated that he like Bob’s tacos better than Taco Bell, and how they meat tastes so much better. Alright, I’m out of my league when talking about tacos with this guys. He then said that Bob’s tacos are probably better for you than Taco Bell’s.

That’s a fair point, but then a minute later he went out to smoke a cigarette. So I feel his food credibility as to what is healthy for you is tarnished by that. Not that I judge people who smoke, but I do scoff at how so many people in health care spoke. It’s like if your dentist would tell you that you need to eat less sweets, then proceed to down 10 pixie sticks in front of you.

I finished off my apparently better than average tacos—or so I’m told—and ordered a New Holland Ichabod for my nightcap.

The gentlemen to my left were talking about what they kids were doing with their lives. (At this point, I should mention I was the only person at the bar below 30). One of the guys was talking about his son’s two adopted kids. One is from Mexico, and was recently accepted in Harvard’s medial program, while his adopted son is in his second year at West Point (Go Army, beat Navy).

One of his friends asked where the son was from, and the guy responded with ‘I think El Salvador, but it could be Buenos Aries’ somewhere in that region. For those keep score at home, El Salvador is here, Buenos Aires is here, they are on two different continents—noticeably not in the same area. I felt it was not the time and place bring up that geographic tidbit, so I just finished by Ichabod.

Bob’s has a really relaxed scene and is a solid place—established in the 1920s, apparently. The bar has stained glass windows of the league logos for the NFL, NBA, AL and PGA, which is a nice touch, and there are plenty of table for friends.

I’ve only been to Bob’s one other time, and the place was packed. The bar has a pretty good selection of classic rock—always a must—and a pool table that rolls true, which is always a nice touch for pool hall junkies such as myself.

A small complaint could be the lack of variety with craft brews, but for a neighborhood bar, it gets a pass because I don’t think the regulars care all that much. It’s your basic sports bar with a lot of TVs, a pool table and good deals on Budweiser.

It’s your garden variety sports bar, and hex on anyone who wants it to be something else.

I’d recommend Bob’s for large groups of people who are looking to find some cheap deals on beer, watch a game and may shoot a few games of pool. When it comes to that, the place should never disappoint.

All and all, it was a solid reboot of my bar-hopping quest. Although I think the regulars I could tell I was an outsider. Maybe it was being in my 20s and drinking by myself giving it way, or ordering something from Founders.

Either way, I don’t think I tipped the balance of the bar’s scene too much. And it seems to be the kind of place that doesn’t mind insiders.

Bob’s Sports Bar. Sit down, order a beer, watch the game, enjoy.