St. Andrews Bar and Grill offers an impressive selection of more than 100 malt scotches. Consequently, the Greenlake watering hole, which stands where über-dive Lion’s Lair Tavern did during the ’90s, is an esteemed hangout for rugby and football fans who want to get shitfaced and cheer on their favorite teams. But if you duck in on a non-game night (sorry, baseball doesn’t count), the patrons are far more reserved. They sit and converse quietly while hunkered over glasses of Laphroaig and Balvenie. It’s an ideal atmosphere for catching up with an old friend or drinking away one’s sorrows, since it’s so damn dark in the bar. You can cry your heart out over a half-pint and go unnoticed. Besides, your tears are apt to be less interesting to fellow patrons than the abundance of autographed athlete photographs and jerseys on the walls. And since Rod Stewart is Scottish, a large, imposing portrait of the ’70s icon hangs above the bar. The loudest folks on baseball nights are always the homeless people singing on the stoop of the dry cleaners next door to St. Andrews. They gleefully ask exiting patrons if they saw the raspy crooner’s ugly mug, and offer to switch from “Kumbaya” to “Maggie May”—for a small fee, of course.