Hey, remember the 90s? I do. Barely. But one of the things I recall is eating at Bennigan’s with my high school friends when we were back from college for the summer. Yeah, I know, we were a crazy bunch. Back then, we would all scarf down Monte Cristos and Death By Chocolates® without blinking an eye. Or gaining an ounce. Ah, the sweet metabolism of youth. Why, we even watched OJ Simpson’s infamous Bronco parade at Bennigan’s.

But, just like you’ve lost your respect for me after reading the above paragraph, Bennigan’s lost its way with the fickle fast-casual diner. Maybe it’s because the closest thing they have to Irish food is fish and chips. Or maybe it’s because their floors are sticky. I don’t know. But when you’re losing to ground to Bloomin’ Onions and Baby Back Ribs of Dubious Origin, something’s gotta give.

And so it has.

Yesterday, I received in the mail a lovely 6 x 9 postcard from Bennigan’s SPORT. Now, this immediately intrigued me, mainly because SPORT was yelling at me in all caps. “Wow!” I said to my lovely wife, “this must be a hip, happenin’ place to watch the big game with my buds if they’re that bold with the name.” Then my wife slapped me back to reality.

Yes, Bennigan’s is testing a sports bar concept right here in Dallas. Or in Addison, if you want to be precise. Apparently, and I can only judge by the sweet photos on the postcard, this means there are more flat-panel TVs and they’ve removed some previously unoccupied tables and replaced them with couches suitable for manly bonding.

A quick visit to the Bennigan’s SPORT website confirms its manly intentions. They have a vaguely sports-looking logo. Their copy appears to have been scrawled by a 22 year-old woman channeling her frat-boy fiancée. They actually offer a bucket of beer featuring such classic Irish brews as Old Milwaukee, Schlitz and Pabst Blue Ribbon. Plus, they don’t just sell regular ol’ hamburgers. No, my carnivorous friends, Bennigan’s SPORT grills up, wait for it, SPORT Burgers! Dang. That’s some sweet naming technology.

Get a Monte frying, Beatrice, I’m on the way.

Later,

Fox