Last Call: Wednesday, December 15, 2004
Rack Daddy’s
101 Houston Street
Fort Worth, TX 76011
A D V E R T I S E M E N T
A D V E R T I S E M E N T
’Rack-ed With Anxiety

In case you were unaware or fooled by the preference for double-vodka-tonics, Last Call is not totally against the idea of the meathead-friendly sports bar, especially one as OK as Rack Daddy’s. Or as OK as Rack Daddy’s used to be. See, Last Call hasn’t visited the Bryant-Irvin-and-20 hole-in-the-wall in several months, chiefly because slowly and quietly over the course of about six months RD became a place to — let’s just say — let off some steam, and all of the steam-letting-off just got too annoying. End of story.

Last Call’s been dying to go back but has kept a tight grip on the reins, at least until your columnist feels confident that the joint has become more Everybody Loves Raymond, less Wild Wild West.

Having a jones for those smooth, fast tables (and cheap beer) last week, Last Call asked an RD’s staffer if the place has re-connected with its down-to-earth origins.

Unfortunately, it’s the same old same old. “They fight because they’re drunk,” said the RDeep Throat. “It could be over anything — a girl or a game of pool that someone lost. Sometimes men get drunk, they clash, and then comes a fight.”

So what’s a local club columnist to do? Go there and let the chips (read: teeth) fall where they may or stay above the fray? If you have any suggestions or words of advice, please feel free to write. And if you throw a mean right cross and need someone to pick up your tab (OK, well, a third of it), then by all means get in touch.

More information: http://www.echoesmedia.com

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