Let your hair down at Portland’s best Boston bar: Fore Play

There's a particular feel to a good Boston neighborhood bar. A familiar, endearing barley stench, video poker blips and boops tickling the ear drums, and plenty of close talkers to make the outsider feel like family. It's a messy, special experience, comfy like a sandy beach towel.

It also happens to be an ambiance that the Old Port's own Fore Play has down to a science. "If you can't have fun at work, then who cares" is the way my savvy 'tend Sarah succinctly conveys her love for the job. She's also conjuring the Beanpot subliminally, proudly sporting a Celtic-green ballcap that reads "Absolut Boston". The Fore Street favorite, with the least subtle double-entendre in town, goes to great lengths to prove Sarah right, for staff and clientele alike. Though Fore Play feels at times like, say, the Beacon Hill Pub, it has left some of Boston's best dives in the dust as far as diversions go.

Every where the eye can see, there is an alternative to stale conversation. Pool tables, darts, air hockey, and the ever-intriguing cigarette vending machine beguile even the shyest patron. Brady, Grogan, Yaz and Youk grace and rule the walls here to no one's chagrin. This is a place where you might get beer spilled on you when Papi goes yard, but by all indications, a) you wouldn't mind, and b) there's a good chance that beer will be local with Allagash and Shipyard anchoring the taps.

Make no mistake, it's not like uninteresting folk are bellying up to the bar either. In fact, it could be the truth serum, but it seems all the discourse is fascinating at the bar tonight. On my right, I debate the value of alcoholic energy drinks from every angle with an agreeable Red Bull rep.

On my left, I confess to an imported Chargers fan that I admire Philip Rivers' competitive fire while lamenting his sissy throwing motion, and, against all odds, he agrees with me. This is a whole bunch of fun, and I haven't even availed myself of the Big Buck Hunter or Bubble Hockey in the room.

This isn't rocket science. Fore Play is that most-trustworthy of establishments, the local watering hole that sports a trove of distractions. It's a sports staple of the Portland experience. As I go through my checklist of what makes a bar awesome, Fore Play gets a mark in every box, right down to the entirely fryolated menu.

I delve with some unexplored passion into the mozzarella sticks ($4.75) with every intention to bring the excess back to my home, fiancé and dog. To my great surprise, there is no excess. That's right, I gobble the whole beautiful batch of fried cheese, not because I feel I deserve it, but rather with the caring staff, multi-syllabic regulars, and finger on the pulse environs, I owe it to this gift of a tavern to let myself go a little bit. Forget Boston actually, Fore Play is Portland's own Hub for good times.