Chuck's: Where Everybody Knows Your Name

[adk(roc)CUSE]

Gold. Rock on Chucks

 

[OburgOrange]

What ever happened to Sutters?

 

[OburgOrange]

Someone tell the story of the crazy melee at Chuck's when Devo threw the chair across the bar. I've heard it before, but it always entertains me to death.

I have not heard this one. Can someone spill the beans?

 

[Marsh01]

What ever happened to Sutters?

Condemned

 

[CuseGrad94]

Loved Chucks! My best Chucks moment was after I graduated. I watched the '96 sweet 16 game against Georgia there and it was Epic! Pitchers were flowing and the game seemed to be lost so many times. Z hit 3 clutch 3's (I'm a Henninger grad too) and then the last play of regulation and then the OT..got goose bumps thinking about it! 1st song played after was Jayne Says (to the best of my knowledge)...ahhhh fond memories

 

[Cowtown]

Good beer is overrated.

Where I'm from you can be burned as a witch for talking that way ...

 

[OburgOrange]

Condemned

Seriously?

 

[Marsh01]

Seriously?

Just shut down. I spent many a nights in my day at sutters and was on the hill the night of the shooting. I think they closed shortly after ( maybe 1993). Only bar where it didnt matter if you were over or under. You drank regardless.

 

[OburgOrange]

Just shut down. I spent many a nights in my day at sutters and was on the hill the night of the shooting. I think they closed shortly after ( maybe 1993). Only bar where it didnt matter if you were over or under. You drank regardless.

Shooting? I am totally unaware

 

[Marsh01]

Shooting? I am totally unaware

If i remember correctly it was outside of sutters in the alley. So many fights in that place.

 

[A Clockwork Orange]

You could still get plenty drunk for cheap at Faegans. The one and only time I've ever been cut off in my life was at a particularly successful night at Beer Tour, and I've had nights where i only had to pay like 10 bucks for a night of drinking at flip night.

This seems like an appropriate thread to tell this story.

I was just a couple of years out of SU and still working in the 'Cuse. I found myself with three buddies heading up to the hill one cold winter's night -- looking to flip a coin for free beer. Mind you, I'd done this many times in my career at SU, and always broke about even. This night was not going to be that night. It goes down in Faegan's lore as possibly the greatest streak since DiMaggio hitting in 56 straight.

It even breaks the three consecutive weekends of my buddy having girls lose their virginity to him. That happened in the spring of 1997. Crass? Sure, but in college, crass is made into an art form.

Future retellings of old drinking stories get embellished. This one, I can assure all of you, is 100% completely true.

I showed up to Faegan's that night with 12 dollars in my pocket. Enough for a couple of beers, but nothing more. It was a work night, so I didn't plan staying out too late anyways. Fate had other thoughts. My first flip I got the free beer. I joked with my friends that this was my "lucky" night. Little did I know.

Five beers in, the bartenders started taking notice. One of them gave a me a knowing nod, as if to say "well done, but you'll come up on the losing end eventually." I was looking over my shoulder, waiting for the equivalent of a casino pit boss to appear. No one did, and I kept winning.

At eight beers, a fellow dude at the bar said "dude, how many flips have you won in a row?" I simply stared at him and walked away. My other buddy came up to him and said "never talk to a man during a streak. Haven't you ever seen a pitcher throw a no-hitter?"

At this point, we all were wearing beer goggles. One of my friends had a '4' hanging all over him. He was in a "streak" of his own, and was looking to break it. He didn't go home with her that night, because history was being made at Faegans. After the 10th beer, I said I wasn't sure if I could keep drinking. My buddies pushed me on. Thank God for them. At 12, I was legitamitely s h * t faced. It was 12:30, and a crowd was starting to gather. Other revelers stopped what they were doing to look at the guy stumbling to the bar and saying 'another.' By 14, people were actively rooting me on. I had played sports in school, but this was something different. I was in the zone. I could not guess wrong.

It was closing time, and people I had never met in my life were asking me to have one more. I fumbled my way back up to the bar, pushing the streak to it's limit.

I s h * t you not, the majority of the bar got quiet. I had probably 20 people surrounding me. The bartender, his eyes slits -- looked at me and said 'call it'. "Hedsh" I said, through thick lips, and a tongue that had a mind of its own at this point. 'Heads' he said back to me. The moment the coin tumbled in the air, I started taking out my wallet. It wasn't because I thought I'd lose the streak, it's because I'd come up with the best way to ever leave a bar in my life. The coin landed in his hands, he looked at it, shook his head and said "heads it is." The crowd erupted, people were actually high fiving this. 15 beers, 4 hours, not a dime was paid. He comes back with the beer, and I hold it aloft, giving the throng a cheers for their support. I then put the beer to my lips, and chugged the whole damn thing.

With all modesty, I must say that I am a fantastic chugger. I held the Cortland State record for chugging (there was a bar that actually kept that stat). I could chug a pint in less than three seconds. My goal in life was to be a part of The Man Show, and try to show up the old dude who could chug a beer in a second. I would have lost, but it would have been close.

So I down this beer (#15), slam the glass on the bar, and then slam my hand on the bar with a 12 dollar tip. "Have a gud niteth" I slurred, as I turned on my heel and walked towards the door.

As I opened the door, and the winter air hit me, I heard the distant sound of a bell being rung deep inside Faegan's. I'd like to think it wasn't because of my good tip, but because they wanted to commemorate the feat in the grandest fashion they knew how. 'Touch 'em all ClockworkOrange, you just won the game.'

As a post script to this story, grown men actually shook my hand as I left the building. I hailed a cab, and my friends crowded inside with me. "I don't hath any money" I said to them. "That's okay man, we've got it tonight" they said back, through fits of laughter. Worst day of work ever the next day, but through my grimaces, I smiled every now and then, remembering the night that was -- and the legend that I had wrought.

 

[tee1222]

This seems like an appropriate thread to tell this story.

I was just a couple of years out of SU and still working in the 'Cuse. I found myself with three buddies heading up to the hill one cold winter's night -- looking to flip a coin for free beer. Mind you, I'd done this many times in my career at SU, and always broke about even. This night was not going to be that night. It goes down in Faegan's lore as possibly the greatest streak since DiMaggio hitting in 56 straight.

It even breaks the three consecutive weekends of my buddy having girls lose their virginity to him. That happened in the spring of 1997. Crass? Sure, but in college, crass is made into an art form.

Future retellings of old drinking stories get embellished. This one, I can assure all of you, is 100% completely true.

I showed up to Faegan's that night with 12 dollars in my pocket. Enough for a couple of beers, but nothing more. It was a work night, so I didn't plan staying out too late anyways. Fate had other thoughts. My first flip I got the free beer. I joked with my friends that this was my "lucky" night. Little did I know.

Five beers in, the bartenders started taking notice. One of them gave a me a knowing nod, as if to say "well done, but you'll come up on the losing end eventually." I was looking over my shoulder, waiting for the equivalent of a casino pit boss to appear. No one did, and I kept winning.

At eight beers, a fellow dude at the bar said "dude, how many flips have you won in a row?" I simply stared at him and walked away. My other buddy came up to him and said "never talk to a man during a streak. Haven't you ever seen a pitcher throw a no-hitter?"

At this point, we all were wearing beer goggles. One of my friends had a '4' hanging all over him. He was in a "streak" of his own, and was looking to break it. He didn't go home with her that night, because history was being made at Faegans. After the 10th beer, I said I wasn't sure if I could keep drinking. My buddies pushed me on. Thank God for them. At 12, I was legitamitely s h * t faced. It was 12:30, and a crowd was starting to gather. Other revelers stopped what they were doing to look at the guy stumbling to the bar and saying 'another.' By 14, people were actively rooting me on. I had played sports in school, but this was something different. I was in the zone. I could not guess wrong.

It was closing time, and people I had never met in my life were asking me to have one more. I fumbled my way back up to the bar, pushing the streak to it's limit.

I s h * t you not, the majority of the bar got quiet. I had probably 20 people surrounding me. The bartender, his eyes slits -- looked at me and said 'call it'. "Hedsh" I said, through thick lips, and a tongue that had a mind of its own at this point. 'Heads' he said back to me. The moment the coin tumbled in the air, I started taking out my wallet. It wasn't because I thought I'd lose the streak, it's because I'd come up with the best way to ever leave a bar in my life. The coin landed in his hands, he looked at it, shook his head and said "heads it is." The crowd erupted, people were actually high fiving this. 15 beers, 4 hours, not a dime was paid. He comes back with the beer, and I hold it aloft, giving the throng a cheers for their support. I then put the beer to my lips, and chugged the whole damn thing.

With all modesty, I must say that I am a fantastic chugger. I held the Cortland State record for chugging (there was a bar that actually kept that stat). I could chug a pint in less than three seconds. My goal in life was to be a part of The Man Show, and try to show up the old dude who could chug a beer in a second. I would have lost, but it would have been close.

So I down this beer (#15), slam the glass on the bar, and then slam my hand on the bar with a 12 dollar tip. "Have a gud niteth" I slurred, as I turned on my heel and walked towards the door.

As I opened the door, and the winter air hit me, I heard the distant sound of a bell being rung deep inside Faegan's. I'd like to think it wasn't because of my good tip, but because they wanted to commemorate the feat in the grandest fashion they knew how. 'Touch 'em all ClockworkOrange, you just won the game.'

As a post script to this story, grown men actually shook my hand as I left the building. I hailed a cab, and my friends crowded inside with me. "I don't hath any money" I said to them. "That's okay man, we've got it tonight" they said back, through fits of laughter. Worst day of work ever the next day, but through my grimaces, I smiled every now and then, remembering the night that was -- and the legend that I had wrought.

Legendary stuff right there. That was awesome! I'll have to share my "one man team" dodgeball story, but still enjoying this one. Dodgeball story is all glory, but doesn't touch this one to be honest.

 

[RhymesWithOrange]

Sometimes I do need a place to get s*faced, though generally I prefer it if they don't know my name.

 

[Marsh01]

Is or was chucks still downstairs or had it moved in recent years?

 

[tee1222]

Is or was chucks still downstairs or had it moved in recent years?

Not sure if I should field this, as I have no basis for comparison. Walked around Marshall St into a sort of alleyway. Chuck's was on the left and on the ground floor.

 

[Marsh01]

Not sure if I should field this, as I have no basis for comparison. Walked around Marshall St into a sort of alleyway. Chuck's was on the left and on the ground floor.

It used to be downstairs in a dungeon when i used to go there

 

[OrangeXtreme]

Is or was chucks still downstairs or had it moved in recent years?

Chucks used to be in the basement, but it moved a while ago ... to the old Sutters location upstairs.

 

[OburgOrange]

Chucks used to be in the basement, but it moved a while ago ... to the old Sutters location upstairs.

This move was recent?

 

[Marsh01]

Chucks used to be in the basement, but it moved a while ago ... to the old Sutters location upstairs.

Ah. Thats right.

The place in the basement was a dump

 

[OrangeXtreme]

This move was recent?

A decade ago?

 

[Eric15]

The bartender, his eyes slits -- looked at me and said 'call it'.

Low and behold, I found a picture on the internet of you and the bartender having that intense exchange.

 

[CorduroyG]

hedsh LOL

 

[tee1222]

Not that this is relevant to the thread, but well, you know me. Besides, I had already brought it up after another feel good.

Sleep-away camp.

Must have been 8 or 9 years old. I was born late in the year and had the choice to be the oldest kid in the youngest bunk or be the youngest kid in the older bunk. Used to being young for my grade and being the shortest kid usually made for a chippy, tough little kid who picked the older bunk.

I was always super competitive, didn't back down from anything physically challenging, especially sports. Dodgeball was the most important activity at camp, kids talked about it all the time and older kids who excelled were idolized. One older kid in particular named "Animal" had full court (no lines, you can peg someone three inches away) had that version of dodgeball named after him.

But we didn't play "Animal" that day. Halfcourt line, and a wall to our left (handball court probably). It was probably 20-25 on a team, two grades of 4 bunks were evenly distributed among the teams. We were getting shelled, everyone on my team dropping to the left and right of me. So bad that the other team had 20 guys left or so it seemed. All against me at the end. Last player left. that. I played out of my mind. People started getting crazy cheering on the sidelines. Easily the shortest guy left on the court, I started picking everyone off. Made an insane dodge by jumping halfway up the back fence (all dramatics, I didn't have to go that far), and the ball clanked on the fence missing me. Crowd cheered on, our same-aged girl bunks were walking by and stayed because of the excitement. Big bonus, but that's a story for another time. Don't worry. I was 8 years old. It couldn't have been that juicy.

After taking down 15-20 of the opposition, just down to me and the best athlete in my bunk, a good friend. Btw, if you caught it, the other guy was out but you didn't get a teammate back for that. I had a good sidearm delivery, always aimed for the legs, and since I was short, the ball seems to start off low, stayed low. Sinkerballer. Anyway, I tossed it hard at him, but not too low. It hit him in the chest, bounced off the handball wall, and he caught it. Crowd sighed, he was the only one happy I remember.



But.......





Counselor ruled him out, and I won since if the wall was not there, the ball would have landed. Won that stuff against an entire team. Everyone went nuts on me, even the other team. Never give up.

 

[Mistakebythelake90]

This seems like an appropriate thread to tell this story.

I was just a couple of years out of SU and still working in the 'Cuse. I found myself with three buddies heading up to the hill one cold winter's night -- looking to flip a coin for free beer. Mind you, I'd done this many times in my career at SU, and always broke about even. This night was not going to be that night. It goes down in Faegan's lore as possibly the greatest streak since DiMaggio hitting in 56 straight.

It even breaks the three consecutive weekends of my buddy having girls lose their virginity to him. That happened in the spring of 1997. Crass? Sure, but in college, crass is made into an art form.

Future retellings of old drinking stories get embellished. This one, I can assure all of you, is 100% completely true.

I showed up to Faegan's that night with 12 dollars in my pocket. Enough for a couple of beers, but nothing more. It was a work night, so I didn't plan staying out too late anyways. Fate had other thoughts. My first flip I got the free beer. I joked with my friends that this was my "lucky" night. Little did I know.

Five beers in, the bartenders started taking notice. One of them gave a me a knowing nod, as if to say "well done, but you'll come up on the losing end eventually." I was looking over my shoulder, waiting for the equivalent of a casino pit boss to appear. No one did, and I kept winning.

At eight beers, a fellow dude at the bar said "dude, how many flips have you won in a row?" I simply stared at him and walked away. My other buddy came up to him and said "never talk to a man during a streak. Haven't you ever seen a pitcher throw a no-hitter?"

At this point, we all were wearing beer goggles. One of my friends had a '4' hanging all over him. He was in a "streak" of his own, and was looking to break it. He didn't go home with her that night, because history was being made at Faegans. After the 10th beer, I said I wasn't sure if I could keep drinking. My buddies pushed me on. Thank God for them. At 12, I was legitamitely s h * t faced. It was 12:30, and a crowd was starting to gather. Other revelers stopped what they were doing to look at the guy stumbling to the bar and saying 'another.' By 14, people were actively rooting me on. I had played sports in school, but this was something different. I was in the zone. I could not guess wrong.

It was closing time, and people I had never met in my life were asking me to have one more. I fumbled my way back up to the bar, pushing the streak to it's limit.

I s h * t you not, the majority of the bar got quiet. I had probably 20 people surrounding me. The bartender, his eyes slits -- looked at me and said 'call it'. "Hedsh" I said, through thick lips, and a tongue that had a mind of its own at this point. 'Heads' he said back to me. The moment the coin tumbled in the air, I started taking out my wallet. It wasn't because I thought I'd lose the streak, it's because I'd come up with the best way to ever leave a bar in my life. The coin landed in his hands, he looked at it, shook his head and said "heads it is." The crowd erupted, people were actually high fiving this. 15 beers, 4 hours, not a dime was paid. He comes back with the beer, and I hold it aloft, giving the throng a cheers for their support. I then put the beer to my lips, and chugged the whole damn thing.

With all modesty, I must say that I am a fantastic chugger. I held the Cortland State record for chugging (there was a bar that actually kept that stat). I could chug a pint in less than three seconds. My goal in life was to be a part of The Man Show, and try to show up the old dude who could chug a beer in a second. I would have lost, but it would have been close.

So I down this beer (#15), slam the glass on the bar, and then slam my hand on the bar with a 12 dollar tip. "Have a gud niteth" I slurred, as I turned on my heel and walked towards the door.

As I opened the door, and the winter air hit me, I heard the distant sound of a bell being rung deep inside Faegan's. I'd like to think it wasn't because of my good tip, but because they wanted to commemorate the feat in the grandest fashion they knew how. 'Touch 'em all ClockworkOrange, you just won the game.'

As a post script to this story, grown men actually shook my hand as I left the building. I hailed a cab, and my friends crowded inside with me. "I don't hath any money" I said to them. "That's okay man, we've got it tonight" they said back, through fits of laughter. Worst day of work ever the next day, but through my grimaces, I smiled every now and then, remembering the night that was -- and the legend that I had wrought.

While not nearly as epic as your story, during the aforementioned night that I managed to get myself cut off, I may have finished about half the beer tour in one sitting.

 

[Scooch]

It used to be downstairs in a dungeon when i used to go there

Basement Chuck's was the best when I was on the Hill, '91-95.

It was closed early in my first semester my freshman year then opened late first semester as a 19+ bar. The re-opening was heralded like we had just unretired #44.

Me and my18 year old freshman buddies would go there before 3pm on Fridays sine that's when the bouncer would set up shop for happy hour. If you were under 19 you couldn't leave because it was tough getting back in, so the number of Fridays where I spent a quality 10+ hours in that place is unconscionable. Of course I don't regret a minute of it though.

I have a Spotify playlist of early 90s Chuck's music that is probably my favorite thing to listen to in the world.

King of the Rooooad.