Los Angeles · Open from first pitch
A late-inning lounge where the bullpen meets the bar. We grade our cocktails like prospects, name them after the guys winning us games, and pour like it’s the ninth with a one-run lead. No box scores required.
The main attraction
Two clicks and we’ll scout you a drink: pick where your night sits in the game, pick a starter, and the front office hands back a player-themed pour, a recipe you can actually make, and a grade on the 20-80 scale. No two-strike counts.
themed after Shohei Ohtani
Bright and low to the ground - it gets on base so the rest of your night can drive it in.
Graded 20-80, like the front office would
Japanese whisky, yuzu, honey, a smoked grapefruit peel
Pitches and hits. Does everything you ask and somehow ages backwards. One is plenty - two and you're filing for arbitration.
Toki highball, shiso, grapefruit oil, soda with a backbone
Looks like a fastball, falls off the table at the last second. Crisp, low, and over before you've decided to swing.
Gin, lime, a serious blue curaçao, salted rim
Small, fast, and somehow does six things at once. Leads off your night and never makes the third out.
Sparkling sake, elderflower, lemon, by the magnum
Clutch, left-handed, and best served when it's already over. Everyone pours out of their seats whether they meant to or not.
Old fashioned, brown butter, orange, smoked under glass
Slow, brown, and stuck in traffic in the best possible way. Sip it like the 110 at rush hour - you're not going anywhere fast.
Espresso, dark rum, demerara, a cocoa dusting
Rings once near the end and changes everything. Order it when you need a fresh arm for the ninth.
Zero-proof versions of every drink, no judgment and no markup - the bench plays here too. Allergies, audibles, and “make it like you’d order it” all welcome.
Notes from behind the bar and behind the plate. Part technique, part box score, fully opinionated.
Most home bartenders shake like they're apologizing. Shake like there are two outs in the ninth: hard, short, and committed. Twelve seconds, ice from the back of the freezer, and stop the second it hurts your hands. Dilution is a closer, not a starter.
Your first drink sets the table for the night. Send up something low, bright, and on base - a highball, a spritz - before you bat your power numbers. Open with the brown spirit and you've burned an inning before the food even arrives.
Years of guest relations teaches you one thing the bar schools skip: the show is the service. Garnish at the table. Name the drink after someone at it. Hand it over with both hands and a straight face. Hospitality is a 70 tool that plays up in October.
The Clubhouse Lounge
Ran guest relations at the happiest place on earth. Turns out the second-happiest is a corner booth, two outs, runners on, and a walk-off on the way.