Well, to be honest I was really holding out hope that Crown might be a tiny hidden gem along the West Vickery stretch — some sort of blink-and-you’ll-miss-it-valhalla that I could deliver to friends, established and new alike, as a gift: some sort of legal(and even preferred) inside trading of the boozy sort(sorry, HBO has been re-running the original Wall Street lots lately), but nevertheless, here’s where we are. This happens to be, as it turns out, a fairly lazy but not inaccessible swatch of road, and you might think that they’d be ready for access to neighborhoods or folks passing through with whom they might make a great impression. And that, dear sir or madam, is where you’d be wrong. For the tiny joint that it is, Crown only uses maybe 2⁄3 or its prescribed space, the rest having become some sort of hodge-podge of giant beer + Clamato, some barely challenging brews(don’t expect indies unless they’re Rahr), and a little orgaization mostly intended to be grippy for the paws of the thirsty. It’s not without potential, and clearly they don’t harbor some sort of magic snowglobe that might beg your interests. They might even offer to help. But for now, they’re just starting to occasionally throw strikes. Metaphorically spaking, of course.