If to you the phrase “gay sports bar” sounds like the setup for a sketch, the Elite (1520 E. Olive Way) might fit your mental image. The tastefully handsome bar (next to a larger pool room and a cozy couch-filled conversation pit) boasts peach walls, chartreuse trim, and Husky-purple ceilings. Above one of the two big-screen TVs hangs a rainbow flag, and even the Absolut bottles on the shelf behind the bar are arranged by color in rainbow order. Two bar mirrors hang prominently next to each other: one celebrating the Seahawks, the other a reproduction of a vintage 19th-century French advertising poster. A few of the half-dozen or so under-30s enjoying last Sunday’s game here against San Francisco look like they may at one point have pledged an open-minded fraternity. Thanks to the Elite’s big front windows, the room’s sunny and airy; it doesn’t feel like you’re walking into a cave. Their game special is pints of beer for $2.75. We see no bar menu, though, so at halftime my plus-one, his ex, and I move on to CC’s (1501 E. Madison), which has a kitchen and a fairly full menu of burgers, sandwiches, salads, and breakfast. The $10.75 snack platter is all it should be, with your favorite fried classics: shrimp, chicken nuggets, mini-corn dogs, hot wings, and onion rings, with five dipping sauces. Unsurprisingly, considering the preponderance on the menu of meat, much of it batter-dipped, the clientele’s older and beefier. On game Sundays, drafts are $1.50 and pitchers $6. Not exactly a contender for an Architectural Digest spread, CC’s one stab at fabulousness is the Halloween decorations—a couple dozen pink blinky-light bats hang from the ceiling. Known for being you-can’t-walk-around packed on bear night (the first Saturday of the month), CC’s is otherwise usually a place where you can actually hold a conversation. Which is, however, not why we’re here. The game’s not on when we arrive, but they turn it on when we ask (but leave the sound off). No one but us is much interested in the game, though. (And even then.) Plus-one is the kind of sports fan who likes to shout at the screen (“Niiiiiiiiiice!” he bellows when something goes right for the Seahawks, which he tells me isn’t happening very often this season). They, we find, hang out at the Madison Pub (1315 E. Madison), which is full of guys in team jerseys. Here is sports central: they have four of those big screens, plus lots of smaller TVs and even one outside for smokers. As for food–well, on Sundays the peanuts are free. In short, it looks like gay football fans have the following choice: ambience, eats, or a fun, rowdy crowd. Select one.