Rick’s Place

The food and beer here is not bad, but it’s a smokey, smokey, smokey place. It’s pretty tricky to find because it’s behind the little shopping center at downtown west.
I grabbed some late night drinks here on a Friday with friends and a little jazz band was playing. The resident metal-​head/​village drunk was pretty ticked about that. I couldn’t figure out if that was there thing or not. Foggy bar in more ways than one.

I hadn’t the foggiest idea where I would go for this article. I wanted to go somewhere different, somewhere off the beaten path.
I pulled up Google Maps and searched «bars» and found one listing that made me interested. Rick’s Place Sports Bar on Downtown West Boulevard not far from West Town Mall. I punched the button on my phone to navigate to it and off I went. I came to where the navigator said the building was and looked to my right and saw nothing but a gigantic Girl Scouts building.
I called the bar and they guided me around to the back of the building to their location. All I could think about at this point was those delicious little chocolaty Samoas cookies, and how that Girl Scouts building must be completely full of them.
Around the building I went, passing dumpsters and parked semi-​trucks until I came to a group of cars all parked together. I parked toward the back of the lot directly facing Gleason Drive and pulled my camera out to take a picture of the bar’s sign when a young lady walked closer and said, «What are you taking pictures of?» I told her I was doing an article for the Nightlife section of
and she quickly converted from curious patron to official ambassador of what I soon realized was her favorite bar.
«It’s a neighborhood local hangout» she told me. Her name was Meagan. She was anxious to take me inside and introduce me to everyone. The fellow she was with seemed less enthusiastic about her new self-​imposed duty.
As we started inside, Meagan’s enthusiasm had grown on me, making me quickly see the hidden hole-​in-​the-​wall, back-​of-​a-​building bar with a more affectionate familiarity. There was a nice patio area to the left just before the front door, completely covered to guard from rain, but wide open to allow smokers and non-​smokers to mingle in unison.
I walked in through a small foyer with Megan and she gave me the grand tour. It was a two-​step tour; she showed me to the right where their one pool table and Pacman Jr. tabletop console was, then she showed me to the left where there were several flat screen TVs and the main bar.
I stepped up to the bar and had a seat. I met Megan’s sister Emily, who was just getting off her bartending shift and ordering food as she sat at the bar. I also met Ryan, who served me up a draft beer and recited the venue’s lengthy history.
You see, Rick’s is no fly-​by-​night operation that just opened yesterday. Oh no. Rick’s has been around for 30 years, Ryan informed me. It has been Rick’s the whole time, only recently coming under new ownership while maintaining the same loyal clientele. «We have a regular that has been coming in for 27 years,» Ryan said.
Emily told me about some of the folks that were sitting at the tables near us, further interesting me that such an inviting place could be all but completely unknown to folks in this part of the city. «If you are going to write about our place, you HAVE to try to Cuban sandwich on our menu.» Ryan informed me.
The far table was pretty enthusiastic about the Detroit Lions/​New England Patriots game, and just as the Lions scored another touchdown the group seemed to grimace in dismay. «Are these actually New England fans?» I asked Emily. «Not really, last week they were cheering while watching tennis, they just love all sports here.»
Minutes later the same table got my attention when a Tenacious D song came on and they began singing the explicit lyrics with much fervor. That was bonus points to me: Tenacious D fans in a sports bar? Awesome.
My Cuban arrived and I ordered another beer and finished half the sandwich as I sat feeling comfortable and content. I could see myself coming here every day. I would order a beer, talk to the regulars and have a Cuban sandwich. … But not for 27 years, unless I got unlimited, free Samoas.