As Brooklyn's 8th Avenue Changes, Soccer Tavern Remains a Constant
An afternoon at the 94 year-old melting pot in Sunset Park
The first thing I notice when I walk into Soccer Tavern is a framed newspaper clipping reading, “Norwegians in N.Y. Toast Big Cup Upset”. Apparently Norway has just pulled off a surprising 2-1 defeat against Brazil in the World Cup. I would’ve believed the article was from this past weekend, except that the sepia-hued clipping is dated June 24, 1998.
In the early 20th century, this part of Sunset Park and neighboring Bay Ridge was an enclave for Scandinavian immigrants, known colloquially as Little Norway. 8th Avenue was even nicknamed “Lapskaus Boulevard” after the hearty Norwegian beef and vegetable stew.
Looking around the neighborhood now, it’s hard to tell its layered history of immigration. Amidst the signs in Mandarin, the yelling in Cantonese, and the scent of Asian delicacies wafting from the street carts, Soccer Tavern – where the Norwegian flag still flies alongside stars and stripes and the Irish tricolor – rises like a rare time capsule from a bygone era.
Inside, the juxtaposition is just as stark. Beneath a ledge bowing under the weight of viking beer steins, an older Asian gentleman sits at a high-top with a plate of peanuts, a Guinness, a notepad, and four phones broadcasting different horse races in real time.
The middle-aged Irishman behind the bar pours Stella into a frosty glass while I inquire about the history of the establishment. “This bar was opened in 1932, during the Prohibition era. I believe back then it was opened by Norwegians. It became a soccer tavern in the 50s, but it’s been a bar continuously for almost a hundred years,” he explains.
I learn that his name is Brendan Farley and he is the owner of the bar. “The bar became Irish when the old owner, Colm Reilly, bought the place in 1973. He was from Longford, the same place that I came from in Ireland. I came to New York when I was 18 and he gave me a nice break,” Brendan recounts. “My first day was behind the bar was July 4th, 1986.”
Do you remember that first day?
I had never tended bar before and I was scared to death. I was like a deer in headlights.
I was very shy and for the first three or four weeks [Colm] said, “I don’t think you’re going to make it.” I begged him to give me another couple of weeks. A few months later, he was saying, “You’re the best bartender I ever had!”
I also married his daughter… That might’ve helped.
Have you been behind the bar since?
Yeah. I’m just a bartender, you know. A lot of people would come and go and not even know I own the place, and I like it like that. Plus, my kids help out, my wife helps out, you know, everybody pitches in. It’s a real family affair.
You must have seen the neighborhood change a lot over 40 years.
When I started in ‘86, I think there was only one Chinese restaurant on this block.
An Asian woman approaches the bar and orders a vodka cranberry. She walks back to the corner table where her group is fixated on the TV screen broadcasting the track at Presque Isle Downs. While the name suggests that soccer is the main attraction here, nearly half the screens in the bar are dedicated to horse races, which are particularly popular with the local Malaysian clientele.
The bar is seemingly bifurcated between those watching the horse races and those watching the World Cup. Amongst the football fans, I am introduced to several regulars. At the end of the bar sits Jimmy, a former bartender here for 15 years, with his cane hanging from the back of his chair. Next to him are David, a current bartender who is here on his day off, and Eddie, a distributor at the Fulton Fish Market, stopping by for a round before his night shift.
Each has a stack of cash on the bar before them, which grows with every order. Once in a while, they redeem a green and white chip for a free drink, the de facto rewards program revealing the most loyal customers. Eddie turns and gifts me a chip. “Can’t have my wife finding too many of these in my pocket,” he laughs.
Suddenly, the woman beside me hops off her stool, exclaiming, “My dumplings are here!”
