In the heart of Greenwich Village on Christopher Street is the Stonewall Inn where on June 27, 1969, members of the New York City Police Department attempted to raid this locale and simultaneously created the spark that started the Gay Right's Movement. Last night(now a week ago) I found myself mere yards away from this historic location as I visited one of my favorite bars in the City, The Riviera. In this heavily populated gay area of the City, the Riv, as it is known to its patrons, is the RED SOX bar in New York City, a veritable stronghold of Red Sox Nation deep within enemy lines. It is a place where a Yankees hat gets you booed while a Red Sox hat is the norm and on any given night, the Riv is filled with Sawx Talk as conversations range from Manny being Manny, the acquisition of Tony Graffanino, and the recent departure of post-season hero Mark Bellhorn to the hated Yankees.
I found the Riv a couple of years ago shortly after I moved to the City. My former roommate, the actor, mentioned a Red Sox bar somewhere in Greenwich Village called The Riviera. I having no clue about this area of the City wondered why a bar that allegedly was a safe haven for Sox fans had a name that I associated with France and topless sunbathing and thus was initially hesitant to enter this potential French enclave of the City. However, after enduring a couple of months of watching the YES network and hearing their announcers tout the wonders of YANKEES BASEBALL, I needed to find any bar in the City where Sox fans gathered.
Thankfully, the Riv turned out to have nothing to do with France and everything to do with a team who until last season had not won a World Series for 86 years. And although I have never seen anyone sans top within its friendly confines, the bar has become a go to for me whenever I want to catch my favorite baseball team and hear the all to familiar voices of Jerry Remy and Don Orsillo, the Red Sox announcers.
I am not sure why but right now as I am writing this piece I am not sure what I am supposed to write next without this whole thing turning into a restaurant review. I mean the food is good, and there is beer so if you want those things, the Riv can satisfy those needs. I guess I just wanted to mention that last night I went there and watched the Sox beat the Orioles 7-6 and had a reasonably decent time. Definitely nothing glamorous about the evening. (Note: As I am currently editing this thing one week later, the Yankees beat the Sox tonight in the opening of a huge series in the Bronx. I guess this piece has been doomed from its inception as it causes the Sox to play crappy baseball and my readers to want to rake their eyes out with a fork.)
After I went to the Riv, I went around the corner to The Kettle of Fish bar located on Christopher Street. Oddly, this bar is a Greeny Bay Packers and Wisconsin Badgers bar during football season as apparently, the area that is famous as the center of the start of the gay right's movement has now expanded to provide a safe haven for non-New York City sports fans. Kettle is a very chill bar with a small town bar atmosphere. Once again, I feel like I should be giving this place a star rating so I will give it four stars. The best part of this bar is that inside there is this cool picture of Jack Kerouac, who I guess used to booze there or maybe he just sat at the bar and angrily plotted his trip across the United States.
So I guess that was my night, one week ago. I think that this entry if nothing else just proves that no matter how glamorous your friends may tell you their lives are because they live in the Big Apple when they actually write about it, their evenings sound like a night out anywhere and everywhere in this country we call America. (and now I successfully ended my worst entry ever with the single worst sentence I have ever written in my life... I am putting myself on probation.)
The lights fade.... and the sound of American Pie by Don Maclean is heard in the background....
And scene...
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