The Yard

This bar has closed. It is now called Avenues Lounge.

Yup, its Awesometown here. It is a fantastic pub with Guinness and Smithwicks on tap… and they of course pour them right. I’ve spent my life in Irish pubs but still felt like a tourist in other places. In other places I have been called a tourist (so have you). Everyone likes to fancy themselves Irish when they are drinking… especially when they are drinking in an Irish pub… and that’s why its not always welcoming. This is not the case at The Yard. Its a local crowd, but a very welcoming local crowd. The beers are poured perfect, the internet jukebox cranks out any tune, the dart boards are great, there’s plenty of room, a private party room, and a great crowd. If you want to have a good time at a bar, go here. If you want to get a fist in the face, walk in and shout «top o’ the mornin!»

imagine you’re deep in the heart of chinatown, and thirsty.
you duck off of the rainy city streets inside of a small establishment where every single patron in the place has an irish accent thicker than zack morris’s cell phone, and is male.
technically the sunset isn’t chinatown, and there was a female bartender.
this place had character, and was bigger on the inside than i thought. it’s only a few blocks from my place.
lastly, the music:
i didn’t feed the juke, but i probably should have. the 25 – 30 drunk irishmen were blitz and belligerent to the likes of mandy more and kelly clarkson. wow.

Finally, an Irish bar to call my own. Yeah, it’s just as full of real Irish peeps as Shannon Arms or Costello’s, only it’s infinitely more welcoming. The proof? Some people down the counter actually bought us a round of drinks. I believe that’s a San Francisco first for me. Naturally we chatted them up, but I could only understand what the sober girl said; the drunker guys were completely incomprehensible. But the point was, they were clearly happy to have new faces, as was the bartender. There was even a Latino couple here, apparently regulars.
The other thing that makes the Yard so great is the décor; a white-​walls, dark-​wood-​trim thing that is unlike anything else I’ve seen in SF. There’s also an upstairs balcony with couches. As Mary Ann C points out, it would be a great place to have a party. In fact, the first time we tried to come here, there was a huge engagement party going on so we skipped it (although, naturally, they invited us in anyway).

Beautiful bar, especially since the remodel. Quaint place to go for a quiet drink but if there’s an event or Irish occasion (wedding, funeral, birthday, engagement, etc.) at the Yard get there early and plan on staying late! Olive and the entire staff are very nice and accomodating. Clean place, nothing but good things to say.

Now «The Yard» — this Irish Bar is the cleanest, coolest Irish bar in the entire city. I have never had a Guinness poured so well. We stopped in after a long 2 hour «city hike» on this misty Saturday that included treks to «Grand View Park»
and
Golden Gate Hts Park — just brilliant…:
.
My first impression was of the new fresh paint and wood floors. It was a nice, clean greeting. Then, I noticed the two huge skylights letting in amazing light throughout the bar. They have an awesome internet juke box, cushy cornered sitting area in back for a group of about 8 and a more «lounge» feel area upstairs.
I noticed immediately I was 1 of only 3 females out of about 15 patrons. About an hour later nearly 15 more females arrived (all in tank tops and strappy sandals — which I found impressive as it was raining and cold — nothing a few pints won’t warm up, eh). We intended to just have one drink but after the cute bartender — Olive — made us feel so welcome… we stayed on for a few more. I was wondering «where is the yard. anyhow, out back?» of which my husband went on to explain that «yard» is some sort of Irish description of a large glass… well, I think that is what it is anyhow.
I have been in many Irish bars and this place is the ultimate as far as I’m concerned. The bar is spotless — including the bathrooms. The music is a great mix and good sound system and the Guinness, again, is poured with expertise.

The first thing I saw walking into the Goal Post was a completely inebriated twenty-​something kid falling off his barstool and hitting the ground like a 150lb sack of jello. He just laid there for several seconds, eyes fluttering and his mouth locked into a big drunken grin. A bunch of his buddies were almost as sloshed, all singing Irish ballads at the top of their lungs and continuing to do so while hey hoisted their friend back up on his barstool. Most of the patrons were clustered around the end of the bar nearest the entrance. Two drinks on the bar were reserving seats next to this bunch, and a huge pile of empty Budweiser bottles next to those bumped the next available seat almost 4 barstools away from the crowd. Two older men were talking business in the back of the bar… they clearly wanted to be left alone. The only seating option? A lonely spot right smack in the middle of the room.
All this was happening at around 6:00pm on a Sunday.
Experience has taught me that drinkers communicate best amongst people at similar levels of inebriation. I scanned the crowd for folks who might be somewhere around the one-​shot-​and-​three-​beers level, which is about the tipsiest I’ll shoot for on a Sunday afternoon. I saw none. The whole group was three sheets to the wind and still deteriorating.
I normally delay judgement on a pub if I stop by at an off time and find it boring, rarely yielding judgment until I’ve been there on a weekend night or a similar prime-​time situation. But taking my Sunday experience and extrapolating it to what might be happening on a Friday or Saturday night yielded visions of liquored-​up carnage that weren’t pleasant to behold.
I would have gotten a beer to sip if the bartender was on hand, but she was busy fetching a mop to clean up something over by the crowd at the door. I mulled over my options:
1.) Take a lonely seat, and wait for the barmaid to finish cleaning up after the drunks, and sip a beer by myself while pretending to be interested in the soccer game that everyone else was oblivious of.
2.) Attempt to mix in with the crowd by the door
3.) Quietly exit-​stage-​right and and have a beer at the Eagles Drift-​in Lounge further up Noriega Street.
Thinking back on things, #1 would have been less interesting than watching paint dry, and #2 would have been a futile attempt at crossing several seriously wide chasms of age, culture, and level-​of-​intoxication. A quick walk up the street brought me to the Eagles Drift-​in. It wasn’t too lively, but it felt like a step up…
I had high expectations of this place, and I like to tell myself I’ll go back some time to give it a 2^nd chance… but it just felt too much like «The Dogs Bollix» on Clement Street… rowdy, aggressive, drunken youth that are best left avoided…

Very cool little bar with a super friendly (and hot) owner-​bartender named Olive. What was really interesting (and a bit surreal) to me about venturing in here, was the weird sense of familiarity, and then it dawned on me that this place had been another of my grandfather’s clients once upon a time in its previous incarnation as the O’Carolan pub, (he owned and managed entertainment machines like pool tables, juke boxes, pinball machines and video games). As a lil’ boy tagging along at work, we had been here many times to manage and empty the (now gone) pool table and juke box. I even recall a framed poster of Kathy Ireland on the back wall now hung with an artsy bar scene painting. Much bleaker and working class as the O’Carolan, the new owner, Olive, has renovated nicely with windows, new flooring and painting and the current embodiment of the place is bright, cheery and frequented by friendly younger irish types.

On a recent trip to Ireland I learned a few things. The Dubliners and outlying villages were home to some of the friendliest people I have ever met. The pubs offered a home feeling and amazing music. On my recent move to the Sunset, I wondered what the nightlife would offer. When I realized that the neighborhood was home to a ton of Irish ex-​pats, I also connected that meant one thing — a plethora of Irish Pubs. And while many in San Francisco pay visit to the well-​known pubs near Golden Gate Park and spread across the city, the Goal Post seemed like an undiscovered gem. On a recent visit on Thursday night, this place was more bumping than a hot teen couple freak dancing in a high school gymnasium. The space is narrow and deep and a ledge that lines the wall was stacked with literally, hundreds of bottles of Magners — the nectar of the gods and also the syrup that many of the area Irish girls enjoy. Did I mention, that I love the Irish accent? If you tend to fall for cute Irish girls and their accents, than you will be more than welcome here and likely the only English guy in the place. Soccer plays on the televisions, Miller Lites are always two dollars and you can even smoke like a chimney. If you prefer less crowds, come on a random weeknight and you will be welcome in like family. Don’t be surprised if they ask you to sing as a rite of passage and then offer you up with a shot of your favorite liquor. The Goal Post is an undiscovered Sunset gem and a piece of Ireland that reminds me of my travels.