Buckley’s Catch

This place has delicious breakfasts. Feels very homemade. Good spot just to hang out & relax for a bit. The workers here are very nice

Kept seeing this place on Unilocal decided to finally stop, all around looked like laid back place but decided to not go in simply because it looked dead, uneventful, and a locals spot since everyone looked when we pulled in and saw there was no pool table and sore lighting.

If you are under 35, looking for some action, or seeking something with a shred of class, stay back. This place does cater to a few groups very well. If you are looking for a cheap quiet place to watch the game, or throw your money into a video poker, this place will do the job.
Upon walking in, I was taken back at the lack of any kind of vibe or atmosphere. The tables are vinyl, the floor is vinyl, the lighting consists of garage shop lights, and there is lattuce up all over the place for some reason. We went in to get a quick bite and drink but they werent serving food anymore (9pm.)
The staff was very friendly and on top of things. I would say the service and attitude here is much higher than other upscale places. The bar clientel were older and very nice. Very outgoing and made you feel like a friend. Like I said, if you are just looking to relax and watch the game, this place is great. There was a lot of 82^nd riff raff coming in and out, but it was a very cold Saturday night so thats kind of expected.
Overall, I would say Buckleys is a push. It underperforms for a lot of things I find value in, but makes up for those things in other areas. They really could spend a few grand and really turn this thing in a different direction but I am not sure they want to anyway. I would reccomend this place for watching the game or escaping crowds if you want some drinks and a friendly atmosphere.

Sure, this is a cozy enough little dump, one of an innumerable bunch festooning the seemingly endless SE 82^nd Ave corridor. My persistence in believing in this place even after giving me cause not to, after several visits, speaks to its grubby little appeal.
Seems like every time I’ve been here, it was after fishing on particularly cold mornings out in the gorge, and we were just looking to thaw out with a bloody mary or two and a big, hearty breakfast. Yet, despite being slow on those mornings, the service at Buckley’s has managed to be nothing short of, well, glacial.
By no means do I consider myself a fussy or high-​maintenance diner, and when you treat me and my group right, you’ll be remembered in kind, trust me. Unfortunately for you, the converse of this is also true. Sorry, if there’s only one or two other hazy-​eyed patrons in the entire place, and it takes upwards of an hour for you to even take our breakfast orders, you are most assuredly on the WRONG side of the «Winning» frontier.
So. Since this is at least nominally a sports bar, here’s an analogy for you: You’re sitting on 0 and 2 w/​the bases loaded, bottom of the ninth, and you’re down by 3. At some point I’m sure I’ll be foolish enough – and forgiving enough — to go to my bullpen and give you the rest of your final at-​bat. I’ll lob nice easy ones right over home plate for you too, no junk, no off-​speed, no sweet chin music. If you don’t knock it out of the yard for us next time, Buckley, why you might wanna consider changing your name to «Sloth’s», or «Lassitude»… where the catch of the day, every day, is Torpor, with a big olé side of complete apathy…

Mrs. Burgerdogboy and I were on our way out to meet some folks for dinner at Wong’s King — so, as we do on occasion, we stopped to get a bit of pre-​dinner and cocktails nearby.
The afternoon’s «victim» was Buckely’s Catch, a sports bar and grill in Mt. Tabor/​SE. We were just looking for a ‘cool’ place to escape Portland’s ‘heatwave’, douse the fire in my belly for something to eat after sitting through a local college graduation — and to get Mrs. BDB a bump or two.
If there is one thing Portland doesn’t have a shortage of, it’s neighborhood bars/​saloons/​dives, and Buckley’s fits the bill for any number of reasons. Regular patrons, cheap drinks, and a bar food menu that is a combination of both the usual fare and in house pot cooking. (Add to that the mound of TVs, games, a patio, and a cigarette machine!)
I could tell from the first glance that the chili mound on top of the taters was brewed up in house, and in fact, Ms. Julie confirmed this without me asking.
It’s a respectable contestant for Portland’s best chili cheese fries. We barely made a dent before having to shuffle off to our chinese cuisine encounter.
If you’re looking for a cold quaff and some decent cheap bar food, check out Buckley’s Catch, I say.

This is a bar that you stumble upon, finding yourself there and then probably wondering why and how. The reason I found myself in this bar was because the bar I was trying to go to had crappy live music and this was a few buildings away. A coupe of friends and I just wanted to get out of the house for a beer, so this being a bar, serving beer, it worked. Otherwise I don’t think I’d ever step into this place unless on some sort of «Ironic 82^nd pub crawl» (which I have got to get on).
The bartender was indeed polite. The tap list had a lot of sorority girl/​white trash classics — bud, coors, rolling rock, etc. They did have Rainer — a go-​to — in cans (not 16 ounce cans but the long-​forgotten 12 ounce original. They look so tiny in my hand!)
There were t.v.‘s blaring post-​Blazer game shows on repeat, diner-​esque seating with lots of booths, a free Shuffleboard table (SWEET!!), and the company of old ladies.
This sufficed for a couple beers to get out of the house, but with that 12 ounce beer (so tiny!) costing $ 2.25 it’s not a place I’d come back to.
On the upside, upon leaving, we did get to witness one old lady trying to get her other old lady friend not to drive home. Responsible, drunk, likely grandmothers.

There are some places in this world that just seem to fly under the radar. Way under the radar. Buckley’s Catch is one of those places. It’s so far under the radar that after more than a decade in existence it’s not even on Unilocal.But it has been on my radar ever since I’ve moved out into the ghetto. Even so, it took me 4 years of living here to finally take the leap and drop in.
Buckley’s has been something of an enigma to me. The name alone is intriguing. I always assumed that the name was based on some sort of Uncle Rico moment — maybe the owner had a high-​school-​championship-​game-​winning catch or maybe his favorite AAA baseball team finally made the playoffs and some outfielder made some sort of incredible game-​saving snag. Regardless, I always found it to be such an odd name for a bar and it provided some thought-​provoking entertainment every time I drove by.
It took years of wondering and a free night to finally drag me in there, to answer the question once and for all — what the hell is up with this random place? I guess I always was kind of afraid that the clientele here would be a cross between meth-​addled 82^nd denizens and a stab-​ulous crowd of unsavory characters. Not that these fears have kept me out of any other similar bars. Maybe it’s just that I was enjoying the intrigue and new that once I went it all that intrigue would vanish. I think the latter point nails it.
It really only takes a couple of words to sum up the vibe at Buckley’s: Working Class. This is a standard, run-​of-​the-​mill sports bar that serves a legitimately dive-​bar crowd. There’s nothing ironic going on here at all. Just regular folks hanging out, watching TV, and drinking on some well booze and domestic macro-​brews. The bartender is as friendly as can be, and the regulars lack even a hint of pretense. They’re plenty willing to chat up random folks sitting at the bar about whatever is on their mind. Even if it’s their troubles.
The space is a standard sports bar format. Formica and wood surfaces, lots of macro-​brew branded paraphernalia, some sports effects here and there, lots of TV’s, a bar stocked with mainstream name-​brand booze, a well replete with monarch, at least 6 taps, almost all of which are major label beers (with Deschutes Mirror Pond as the lone macro), cheap prices, and some entertainment like Golden Tee, Keno and even a shuffleboard table. The bar itself is granite colored Formica with some textured panel siding for paneling.
There’s a small open kitchen area immediately behind the bar with an Ink-​Jet printed color sign hinging on the fume hood advertising fresh hot chicken gizzards for $ 4.95. Yup. Fresh. Hot. Chicken gizzards. The blackboard lists a special grilled ham n cheese with fries for $ 5.95. That’s eminently reasonable. The bartender was on food duty the night I was in, and all of the patrons seemed to know each other. Regardless, I was never, at any point, made to feel like an outsider. It didn’t hurt that I was drinking heavy pours of Pendleton (pretty much the best stuff they have on their shelf) on the rocks for $ 5.50.
Oh and the name? I guess the guy who owns it is named Buckley, and he likes sports. So he named his bar Buckley’s Catch. Definitely not as exciting as I was hoping for. But at least the mystery has been solved.
If you’re looking for a place to stop in for a stiff drink and a friendly, laid back, unpretentious smile, Buckley’s will fit the bill. If you want any sort of scene, look elsewhere. This could be any sports bar in any small town in America, and the clientele fits it. Simply decent folks after a solid drink.
And nobody got stabbed. Not a one.