Surprisingly quiet for a Friday night, BUT the clincher of this place - the surprising amount of single girls here hanging out with each other! Â I think this is some kind of hidden gem among the sausage-fests of bars in Boston! Â Big place, has darts, good music, good people, cheap beer. Â I liked this place a lot here. Â I liked that it wasn't packed with annoying 21 year olds listening to Bieber or some other garbage. Â I liked this place so much, we went back twice on the SAME NIGHT. Â If you're in the area, stop by for some local color - you won't regret it!!!
Review Source:Home of the Boston Gooners. Arsenal FC, Arsenal America's official supporter group in Boston. With over 200 standing members come join the intensity being an Arsenal fan.
The Blackthorn is an amazing bar with 5 flat screens and 2 large projectors - you can catch the match from any angle. Martin, the Bar Manager, is always committed to a rockin' atmosphere. I highly recommend this bar for any sporting match.
I. Love. Blackthorn.
It plays all the Arsenal games, it's a short (maybe 10 min.) walk from the red line and has a fantastic barman. Martin rules!
We can be found there most Saturdays or Sundays to watch the Arsenal on their big TVs and have several beers.
Martin will even bring in food (coffee, donuts, pizza, etc.) for customers on game days. How fantastic is that?!
Texts from Friday night while at the Blackthorn:
GF: Weekend is here what ya doing for it?
Me: at the blackthorn
GF: Jesus ye have the life!!! Wats going on in that dump?
Me: Wat. A. Dump.
GF: Ahahahaha...that it is...such classy people in there too...ha.
Important to note... that same GF can be found many a week night at equally dumpy clash of the ash in Quincy.
Sure the Blackthorn is a bit of dump but they have a great dj on sat nights and most other times someone is bound to play something good on the jukebox. Â
So if you want to get up to no good, chat with randos at the bar, get in a fight (it's not nicknamed the "blackeye" for nothing) spill yur drank and have a laugh definitely check out the Blackthorn.
I really enjoyed this place. Even though I don't like Arsenal (a soccer team from England), I went here with a friend of mine who hosts Arsenal viewing parties at this bar. It's a really pleasant little bar in a fun part of town.
They have cheap beer, friendly Irish (off the boat) staff, darts, big TVs, and billiards. What's not to like?
Apparently the regular crowd at this bar is very traditional Southie Irish folks. Must be a fun place to be on an average night.
im upgrading my review since last time. Now that I live in Southie I get this place. Everytime I go there with my friend Eliza we leave laughing, and drunk out of our heads. If you are looking to sit on a bar stool and sip a mojito.. go somewhere else. If ur looking to get drunk, dance like an idiot, and not spend 200 dollars on a bar tab. Hit up the Blackthorn. .. but DO NOT hit up the Chinese place next door when ur drunk... NOT a good choice.
Review Source:Stumble.
Stumble.
That's how we used to end up at the Black Thorn. Â We'd stumble on in. Â It's a mixture of old-timers, new-timers and everything in between. Â I've never seen it busy busy, but occasionally there's a good crowd in there. Â Maybe I go on off days.
Once, we were in there and a man that looked exactly like Slash latched on to the back of my roommate's chair. Â She stood up; he fell smack down on his back. Â Oops. Â Another time, another friend was getting wildly hit on. Â So here comes the lie, she's directly from the Ukraine. Â Whaaat. Â Lasted for a good half an hour before anyone caught the lie. Â You create your own amusement here.
I'm a fan of dives, sticky floors and dirty bathrooms, so this is home to me :)
These are my people, it's 3pm on a Saturday and the bar is full of Dorchester Irish. Once again, I am the only girl in the bar for over 3 hours. And only person with out an Irish accent. I had just finished visiting  my family in South Boston and I wanted to catch some football. Martin the bartender was kind enough to put on the Northwestern game. And I had to explain to half the bar where Northwestern is located. Not on the north west coast as one may think.
Review Source:One time I was sitting watching the futbol game and drinking a gin and tonic when I all the sudden had a hunger pain the size of Tyra Banks ego.
So I ask my bf if he knows whether or not this place serves food. Â He says he doesn't think so, but he caught the attention of the bartender anyway and asked him. Â The bartender had a serious irish accent and answered something that sounded like this:
"Ah nah, Â but chew con sips on ah Gain ess if yah like. Â It mahks fer ah gud brickfust"
This instantly made my first generation irish fiance feel right at home. Â I, on the other hand, was still hungry. Â
That was almost two years ago, so it's possible that they serve food now. Â In any case, it's a great little bar in Southie that is full of Irish culture but doesn't make you feel like an asshole for being born on this side of the pond.
It is what it is. Â Small and sorta stinky, this place will never win a design contest, but that's not why you'd come here, is it? Â The Blackthorn alternates between being mostly empty, save a few people who have been sitting on bar stools for far to long, to being packed with an interesting collection of youngish rough and tumble types. Â Regardless, I've always had a good time when I go, even if their beer lines taste like they need a good cleaning more often than not (my head doesn't really forgive me for that)
Review Source:I'm not certain, but I think this is the bar that I wandered into one morning back in 1998, when I vacationed in Boston. The place didn't look like an Irish pub then, it was more like a gin mill for working-class locals. (It may not have even been called the Blackthorn in those days. If I noticed the name, I've since forgotten it.) The Boston guidebooks I'd read stated that some Southie bars weren't too welcoming to outsiders, so I stopped just inside the door, to suss out the vibe. Near the entrance was a cluster of what I took to be locals. They made a rather sullen tableau-------each one sat slumped on a bar stool, silent, staring down at his drink or straight ahead. I took them for disgruntled types who'd never managed to make it out of the neighborhood. (Which might account for why they were in a bar at 11:30 AM.) Probably exactly the sort of clientele the guidebook writers had in mind when they wrote their warnings. At the opposite end of the bar, however, was a totally different group of topers. These guys were better dressed, they were all standing and they actually seemed to be enjoying themselves. Between the two cliques was a long empty stretch of bar. Spiritually I probably belonged with the mopes, however, the person tending the bar was down by the good-time group, so I eased my way down to that end. I couldn't quite bring myself to actually join them, however, so I took a seat in the no-man's land in between. When I first entered I thought the person behind the bar was a twelve year-old boy. When I sat down, however, I realized it was a young woman. She was short, flat-chested, dressed like a guy and had very short hair, parted on the side. She also spoke with a brogue. As did all of the guys down at this end. Usually, I'm mainly interested in a bar's decor. This place had no decor, yet I found it fascinating, because of the schizophrenic division in the clientele. Stand or sit at the back of the bar and it was as if you were in a public house in good old Eire. Move a few feet and the ambience transmogrified into American bus station. A truly unique barroom experience for me. (But then, come to think of it, Boston provided several interesting travel experiences that I've never had anywhere else.)
Review Source:If you are a girl and want to get hit on by every guy in the bar sometime, this is the first place I'd suggest going. Â I definitely won't roll there solo again, but as long as I've got someone to run interference, it's a fun little spot. Â Lots and lots of Irish expats here, so you could listen to people talk all day. Â Gotta love the brogue.
Review Source:
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