I’m not much for sport bars where the menu items are described in typical game jargon. You know: A slam dunk is code for a hamburger while the end zone is where desserts live. Still, there is one such-themed restaurant that both Earl and I like well enough. It’s called Coach’s and has a silver whistle as the apostrophe in the name.
When we can’t agree on where to enjoy “Date Night,” we often end up at Coach’s. One look at the parking lot suggests there’s a waiting line (or is that a front line or a finish line?), but it’s deceiving. The bar is packed, but the separate dining room is usually quiet.
Last night was no exception. We settled into a booth, ordered our usual libations, then studied the menu. Having been to Coach’s before, I knew what to expect. So Pep Talks for appetizers didn’t throw me. Nor did Lombardi Curds (cheese) or Championship Rings (onions). The Hat Trick did need explanation: queso dip, spinach and artichoke dip, and guacamole all served together. I passed on all these items.
I didn’t choose the Ty Cobb (salad), the Lou Holtz (club sandwich), or the Phil Jackson (beef sandwich) either. Instead I settled on one of the Home Plates (Yeah, I know!) mostly because it didn’t have a cutesy name. It was just plain old fish and chips. It came with Sideliners, but I declined those too.
After working all week, I don’t want to be challenged to decipher what I’m eating. Still — and this is why we return to Coach’s – the food was really good.
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