Alright, so I decided to check out this Crossroads Sports Bar I’d been hearing whispers about. Figured, why not? Always on the lookout for a decent spot to catch a game, even though most these days kinda blur into one. It’s become a bit of a routine for me, trying out these places, seeing if any of them actually stand out from the pack.
Pulled up to the place, and it looked pretty much like you’d expect from the outside. Nothing too wild, no crazy neon signs promising the world. Just a regular building. Stepped inside, and yup, it was a sports bar alright. First thing that hit me was the familiar dim lighting, with the glow of countless TV screens. They were everywhere – big ones, small ones, plastered on every wall. The sound was a bit of a mix too, a couple of different games with commentators yelling, and some background music trying to compete. Kind of a typical sensory overload, but hey, that’s the package deal with these joints, isn’t it?
I made my way over to the bar. I usually prefer sitting at the bar; you get a better feel for the pulse of a place, see the staff in action. The bar top itself was long, and if I’m being perfectly honest, it had that slightly sticky feel that tells you it’s seen a few too many spilled drinks and not quite enough wiping down. The guy behind the counter looked like he was on autopilot, efficient but not exactly brimming with welcoming cheer. But then again, it was busy, so I get it.
Ordered a beer. They had a reasonable selection on tap, your usual suspects. Nothing that was going to blow my mind, but good enough for watching a game. Then came the real test, at least for me: the chicken wings. It’s a simple dish, but so many places get it wrong. It’s my little benchmark, you could say.
So, the wings came out after a bit. Looked okay on the plate. And tasting them? Well, they weren’t terrible. Definitely had worse. But they weren’t anything special either. A bit on the small side for what they were charging, I thought. And the sauce was just… there. Tasted like it came straight out of a big catering bottle. I kind of miss the days when places took a bit more pride in things like their wing sauce, made it unique. Seems like that’s a dying art.
The game I came to watch was on, and the picture quality on the screens was good, can’t complain about that. But the overall vibe in the place felt a bit… subdued. There were pockets of fans getting into it, a few cheers here and there. But a lot of folks seemed more interested in their phones, or just having quiet conversations. That loud, communal roar you used to get in sports bars? It wasn’t really there. Maybe it’s just society changing, or maybe I’m just getting old and nostalgic for a different time.
What I Noticed While I Was There…
- The seating was a mix – high tops, booths, bar stools. Standard stuff. Some of the chairs looked a bit worn.
- Service, once I got their attention, was pretty quick. My beer never stayed empty for too long.
- The noise level was definitely up there. If you’re planning a deep and meaningful conversation, this probably isn’t your spot. But for a game, it’s expected.
- They had a decent number of different sports on, so if your game wasn’t the main feature, you could probably still find it on a smaller screen.
I hung around for most of the game, had another pint. Did a bit of people-watching. It’s interesting, these modern sports bars. They all seem to be working from the same playbook. Big screens? Check. Lots of beer options? Check. Menu full of fried stuff and burgers? Check. But what about the character? The soul of the place? That often seems to be missing from the checklist.
Settled up the bill. It was reasonable, didn’t feel ripped off, which is always a plus. As I was walking out, I couldn’t help but think that Crossroads Sports Bar is, well, it’s a place. It does what it says on the tin. If you need a spot with TVs to watch sports and grab some predictable food and drink, it’ll do the job. But am I going to be raving about it to my friends or making it my new regular haunt? Probably not. It’s just another one in a long line of sports bars that are perfectly adequate, but utterly forgettable.
Maybe my standards are too high now, or maybe I’m just looking for something that doesn’t really exist anymore in these kinds of establishments. Who knows? Anyway, that was my trip to Crossroads. It served its purpose, filled an evening. No more, no less.
