Sports Brew Pub
166 Maple Street
Wyandotte, MI 48192
Visited on August 10, 2012
Wyandotte is as close to “South Detroit” as anyone is ever going to get. Apparently nobody ever told Journey that the only thing south of Detroit is Windsor, Canada. It was a bit out of my way heading outside of Cleveland, but I made the stop anyway, making this joint my 46th Michigan brewery.
The place isn’t much to look at. It stands on a street in “downtown” Wyandotte with plenty of newer looking, well-built establishments. But Sports Brew Pub has a much older feel to it. From the giant Red Wings poster/sign/door outside of the building in the back to the inner 60s diner feel, there’s nothing fancy about this place. But with plenty of televisions, sporadic black and white checkerboard décor, and plenty of neon lights, it feels pretty homey.
Like the establishment, there’s nothing really fancy about the menu. It’s pretty straight-up bar fare, with a bit of a diner twist. I ordered a shaved steak hoagie/sub with sautéed mushrooms and onions, and a garlic mayo sauce. The sandwich was about the size of my head and very good. Put together with an order of hand-breaded onion rings, and it was nearly more food than I could eat for under $10. Quite the bargain.
The beer didn’t live up to Michigan standards, though. That’s not to say that the varieties were weak, thin or tasted outrightly terrible. But they certainly weren’t good, either. That might be because out of the 10 beers they had on tap, at least half of them were wheat styles, which I take issue with. Sure, people who know little about brewpubs might really enjoy two fruity wheat beers, one regular, a summer lemonade shandy and a blonde for options. But give me some reds, pales, IPAs, stouts and porters. They did have one decent IPA on tap at the time, but their stout was pretty lousy and they didn’t seem to care to bother trying any other styles.
As for the service, I certainly can’t complain. Everything came out fast and fresh, and the bartender was happy to split up my flight so that nothing got warm while I was making my way through the mediocrity.