Friday, June 21, 2013

The Bluefish Brew House has been located at the corner of Grand and Wallace in Bridgeport’s The Hollow district since the mid-1980s, and it wasn’t long before it became a local favorite.  The pub’s famous Bluefish Blitz* wa s even featured on WTNH’s weekly Dining Delights segment during the local newscast.  Good brews and good food, using all local ingredients, drew all sorts of people at just the right time.

*The Bluefish Blitz, as described on Dining Delights, is “one part happy hour, ten parts temporary insanity”.  Throughout the Brew House, there are dividing walls at the center of six separate pods of booths in the dining area (the pods are presumably designed as they are to prevent people from running halfway across the restaurant).  The top of the walls can open up to allow an electronic lift to suddenly cause 10 pints of beer – or whatever else they load – to appear from beneath.  Usually, the Brew House sends up their Menhaden Golden, but occasionally it’ll be something else.  Each pint is free to the first person that grabs it, and it’s usually only a matter of seconds before they’re all gone.  Naturally, the Blitz is rarer on some days than others, and etiquette dictates a limit of one pint per person.  The first person to see the doors open yells out “Blitz!” to encourage the swarm.  Breaches of etiquette quickly result in the Half Pint Chant.

Owner Ed Hubbell found ways to promote the 1986 World Series in such a way that both Mets and Red Sox fans found a way to enjoy the series from the same venue.  It certainly helped that Bridgeport was fairly well divided in terms of baseball loyalties between Boston and New York fans.  When the Yankees-Red Sox rivalry started to heat up more than a decade later, The Bluefish was a common place for fans of both teams to hang out and watch a late-season rivalry game.

While The Bluefish brought together fans of opposite teams, it certainly didn’t unite them on anything.  At least, not until rumors of Major League Baseball’s demise started circulating.  Fans of all three area teams started to wonder what it all meant.  As they watched the owners and players driving the game to its grave, they came together in bonds forged of loss and disillusionment.

Then something entirely unexpected happened.  When the PEBA began coming together, a number of cities in New England were rumored to be prime candidates for a team.  Manchester and Gloucester were settled on fairly early in the process, and with Trenton hosting the Hitmen, there was a void in the Boston-New York corridor that everyone knew would be filled.  The only question was where.  Amtrak encouraged placing the team along the Acela Express line, in Providence or on the coast in New Haven or Stamford.  News that the team would be in Bridgeport, just down the street from The Bluefish, came straight out of left field.  No one at the Bluefish expected it, and clientele of divided loyalties were now united as Nutmeggers.

“Junk; that’s what he throws, and the rest of the staff throws it, too,” declared Mike Stalling.  “It’s like it’s an organizational philosophy to employ only junkballers.”

“Nonsense,” came the reply from a much younger Tyler Orlaun.  “It’s called ‘good stuff with a lack of control’.”

“If that’s true, sign me up.”

The exchange took place last Sunday after the Nutmeggers’ 10-2 victory over the Gloucester Fishermen, always a fan favorite of Bluefish regulars.  Despite the easy victory, José Solís was a divisive point of discussion during the after-game chatter.  He had appeared in every inning of the game, but only once had a 1-2-3 inning.

“If you want the definition of scattering hits,” Stalling continued, “that was it.  Single, double in the first.  Walk, single in the second.  Walk in the third, fourth and fifth.  Triple in the seventh.  Single in the eighth, and a double and hit by pitch in the ninth before finally getting replaced with Whitney.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty bad,” conceded Orlaun, “but he also struck out four.”

“Four Ks in 8-plus innings of work, working out of jams with the defense.  That’s a junkballer!”

Orlaun was about to continue the argument, but a Bluefish Blitz cut the argument off abruptly as they both jumped up from their seats for a free pint of Menhaden Golden, shortly to return laughing.  While the Blitz happens on most nights, it’s a rather rare occurrence in the bar area, and the equally rare choice of the Bluefish Lager has the place abuzz.

The Bluefish isn’t a post-game haunt like Whittler’s or The Cracked Nut.  Instead, it’s the place to be during a game if you don’t have tickets or would simply rather prefer not to sit on Constitution Field’s hard plastic seats for three hours.  The regulars are as knowledgeable about the Nutmeggers as any fans of the team, and they’re really not sure what to make of the team this year.  Stalling, a Bridgeport native who has been watching Nutmeggers games from The Bluefish since the team’s inception, is unconvinced the team has what it takes to win.  “Even if they add a corner outfielder,” he points out, “the team is winning close games and losing the blowouts.”

Apparently, the day’s romp over the Fishermen had gone unnoticed.  Orlaun sees things a bit differently.   “We’ve got a really good rotation and just need someone like Solís to step up and be the 5^th guy.  You can make the postseason with pitching.  It’s happened before.  Plus, have you seen the season Ronald Lowry’s having?  He’s not on the All-Star ballot ’cause he missed the start of the year, but he’s already got as many home runs as any IL shortstop.”

Stalling just shakes his head.  “It ain’t happening, kid.  They’re in 5^th place.”

And so it continues, with each arguing their side.  The general sentiment of those around seems lie with Orlaun’s optimism.  The new ownership group, which has been fairly quiet since taking over the reins last fall, has an air of professionalism about their approach that’s led to expectations improving.  Games have been close to sold out long after Opening Day, and the attitude in southern Connecticut seems to be that Nutmeggers games are not only a fun family activity, but the team is good enough to win some games.  Whether or not they can keep it up for another 3 ½ months remains to be seen.

Samuel Platt covers the Nutmeggers for the Connecticut Post, and regularly reports from The Bluefish on fan opinions of the team.  Blitz!