Where to Take ‘Em Out to the Ballgame

At one table is The Fan, a 30-year-old West Los Angeles woman who transforms from mild-mannered to maniacal when the Cleveland Browns play football.

At another is The Football Junkie, a 55-year-old Culver City character who watches every play, counts the downs, yardage and fumbles.

Together, again--The Fan and The Junkie. They’ve never met, but they meet all the time. They meet for beer, banter and the big ballgame--this week’s Game of the Century. They meet in sports bars.

World Series Begins

“I’m in sports heaven,” said Mike Danesky, 29, of Los Angeles, as his eyes wandered from one TV to another at Stat’s Sports Bar & Grill in Culver City.

Starting at 5 p.m. today, sports heaven will have one of its most popular annual attractions--the World Series. Bar owners, anxious to make their establishments a home away from home, are gearing up for the multitude of fans.

Throughout the Southland, from Ventura to Mission Viejo, the sports bar, for some people, is a neighborhood necessity.

Like Stat’s.

From the outside, it’s just another basic watering hole. Inside is something else. It is a virtual shrine to the entire sports world: pennants from dozens of teams; pictures of famous players; newspaper headlines celebrating Hank Aaron’s 715th home run, Cassius Clay’s upset of Sonny Liston and the victories by the Laker dynasty.

6 Television Screens

That’s the past. The present takes place on the bar’s six television screens. They are stationed all over the bar, guaranteeing a good view of the action from almost any seat. They also account for different fan preferences.

On a recent Monday night, while the Browns were playing the Indianapolis Colts, other tubes offered Olympic diving coverage and the Dodger game. For the fan who wants to see everything, this can cause some discomfort.

“My neck is getting a break,” said Duncan Davidson, 29, of Westwood, at the rare moment when commercials invaded every station.

Vickie Feldkirch--a.k.a. The Fan--didn’t care about other stations. The Browns dominate her sporting interests. She grimaced with every Browns blunder; screamed when they did something right.

“Come on, Browns, they gave that fumble to you,” Feldkirch said. “Don’t blow it.”

Feldkirch is superstitious about Stat’s. Sure, she loves coming here during the regular season, but if the Browns had been in the playoffs, she might not have watched at Stat’s.

“I was here during the last two years that the Browns lost to Denver in the championship game,” she said, indicating she would watch a Browns playoff someplace else.

Bill--a.k.a. The Football Junkie (who shunned the thought of publicity and didn’t give his last name)--visits Stat’s every Monday night. “Some people like junk; I like football,” Bill said. “I like the congeniality of the people. I’ve been to a lot of bars. This (Stat’s) is the best. Nobody bugs you.”

Yet a fascination for football drives Bill to moments of near madness.

“That’s a pathetic call,” he shouted to nobody in particular after the Browns intercepted what he felt should have been a Colts touchdown.

Bill’s shouts sound like whispers compared to the crew from Florida State University. Whenever their team is on television, they watch at C. J. Brett’s in Hermosa Beach. On a recent Saturday, their sacred Seminoles were battling the Spartans from Michigan State University. The game was close, so the passions were extremely volcanic.

“George, you’re so fat you have your own area code,” yelled Gene Solomon, 25, of Manhattan Beach, to MSU Coach George Perles.

The Florida State fans, for all their enthusiasm, however, were relegated to one of the bar’s smaller TV sets. USC, which was playing powerhouse Oklahoma at the same time, got the big screen.

“We’re regulars here,” said Don Fasick, 25, of Redondo Beach. “We should have the big screen.”

But there are plenty of tubes to go around, 13 in all. Eleven are 25-inch sets; two are giant screens. Alumni groups from many schools regularly visit, claiming a room to watch their game. Each room features more sports memorabilia; the men’s room lists the previous day’s baseball box scores on a bulletin board above the urinals.

C. J. Brett’s, naturally, is a museum, honoring the accomplishments of the co-owners, Kansas City Royals’ George Brett and his brother, Ken, who pitched for several teams before turning to sports broadcasting for the Angels, along with the rest of their family. Magazine covers, autographed baseballs and newspaper headlines remind you of that fact.

But fans don’t go there to read; they go to cheer--or boo. They go to be together with friends, more for the defeats than the wins.

“Instead of being alone at home with a six-pack,” said Solomon, who attended Florida State, “I can have more fun here with a fellow alum. And even if it’s a loss, it’s not quite as painful as watching a loss by yourself. It almost makes us feel like we’re back in Tallahassee.”

Instant Rapport

Yet, perhaps even greater than the bond between friends is that instant rapport established at sports bars among fans who have never met.

“When Larry Bird hits a three-pointer at the buzzer,” said Bill Kogan, general manager of C. J. Brett’s, “there is something special about slapping hands with the guy next to you that you don’t even know.”

The following is a list of some other sports bars in the Southland:

Poopdeck, 1272 The Strand, Hermosa Beach--convenient for fans who want to get some sun on the beach before watching sports. Something is always happening on the beach, whether it’s a volleyball tournament or just plain people.

“We rely on the sun,” said Mike Hanlon, the manager, “because if people aren’t hanging around the beach, we won’t get as many people in here.”

Inside, there aren’t the constant sports reminders like at Stat’s and C. J. Brett’s. The atmosphere is dark and dank. Loud music blares from its stereo system, drowning out the announcers on television. But there are enough television sets--five--and enough room to enjoy the action.

Clancy’s Crab Broiler, 219 N. Central Ave., Glendale--a young people’s hangout. The crowd is very lively, gazing at any of the five television sets. With plenty of entrees and appetizers, it’s definitely a place to eat and enjoy the game. One can see everything from either a booth, a long rectangular table or the rows of chairs in front of the huge screen. The mood is one of an old-fashioned English pub.

Clancy’s Sports Bar, 961 N. Azusa Ave., Covina--a different atmosphere. A hangout for regulars, the bar is packed on Monday nights for serious dart competition. Two televisions at the end of the bar allow fans to view both the action on the screen and the action in person.

Red Chariot, 14431 Burbank Blvd., Van Nuys--a very popular spot during basketball season, when the Lakers reign supreme. A large screen and a couple of smaller television sets keep everyone busy, and there’s a dart board and pinball machine for those who want to take a break. Although a bit dreary inside, the place is very comfortable.

Reagan’s Irish Pub, 25571 Jeronimo Road, Mission Viejo--another sports shrine, this one defers mostly to the popular figures from Boston’s rich tradition. There are many choices here, from watching the game at the bar or at a booth to hiding in the playroom in the back. For 50 cents, you can try out your skills on a real basketball hoop, and many do. There’s also a mini-shuffleboard game, which players take seriously.

Zendejas, 655 W. Arrow Highway, San Dimas Station Mall, San Dimas. Sports is a family affair here; the restaurant and bar are owned by Houston place kicker Tony Zendejas, Marty Zendejas, who played for University of Nevada-Reno, their mother, Ninfa, and another brother and sister, Javier and Celina. There’s a big screen as well as four smaller TV sets.

Sports Deli, 2040 Avenue of the Stars (inside the ABC Entertainment Center), Century City. There are two giant screens and 10 televisions placed strategically around the restaurant.

Stat’s is at 11168 Washington Blvd., Culver City; (213) 838-3745. C. J. Brett’s is at 2701 Pacific Coast Highway; (213) 318-2545.