Red Sox Nation

Last weekend was interesting as I found myself surrounded by the enemy. Literally. We went to a friend’s birthday bar party deep in the bowels of New York City at a place called The Hairy Monk. I’ve been by it a couple of times as Cs work crew usually goes out at the bar, Fitgerald’s , across the street. I was even in this place once during a drunken haze but I had never noticed the strange atmosphere.

On the outside a fairly typical New York Irish pub but when i took a gender at the online menu something jumped out. No Yankee games. Yep, this may be the only bar in Manhatten where Yankee games are banished from the big screen.

This my friends was a Red Sox bar. A place where those who far from the friendly confines of the Fenns can gather and lament those boys from beantown.

 Now, I know there are bars dedicated to Ohio State and Michigan and other transplants to NYC. This though was unusual and had me on my guard. Heck, when I interupted the guy hitting on C at the bar I swear he had Massachusserts accent.

Anyway, we survived and the food was actually quite good.  Will have to go back with my Yankee attire in full display.



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