Sports Grill - Hammocks

Sports Grill, how I dream of you so often. Until recently, I spent my entire life within twenty minutes of this place, taking for granted the unreal wings they serve. Now that I live in New York, I wake up drooling, just yearning for these wings. The special grilled wings are flavorful, have a perfect kick, are tossed not drenched in sauce and just unheard of. I've gotten people from Doral hooked on these who WILL drive forty minutes for a basket. This place is unsafe for the health conscious, but remember you need to feed your soul from time to time and this will have your spirits so grateful. I've never even tried comparable wings. When you look down and realize that your basket is now a graveyard of bones, you'll be sad..really sad. So you'll mourn by licking your fingers, rubbing your belly and finally taking a breath to catch some fries. Of all the sports grill locations, this one is my favorite and man, it's just my favorite wing spot. Competitors may try, but they will pail in comparison.

I prefer not sitting in church pews. It's like oh lets buy a round of beer while Jesus is watching. But all in all, it's a great hangout restaurant with even better wings.

... and then I woke up and realized I was way southwest and Rony Romance was telling me not to eat all the wings.

Yes, that's the punch line for how I wound up here. I don't remember everything. I know it was a Tuesday. I was in Kendall. There were lots of mini sandwiches, beer, wine, and tomfoolery. Rony Romance brought in a bottle of hooch (to a restaurant). He tricked me into drinking it. Most everyone else left. I was in no condition to drive anywhere without a lot of food and a few hours to figure things out. In hindsight, I'm pretty sure I drank whatever that stuff is that turns you into a zombie. You know, my body moved and I did things, but I wasn't conscious of any of it. After a protracted evening of 'I'll never tee-eells,' I was transported to some magical place called The Hammocks. Oh, Miami. You never fail to entertain me.

I glanced around and took note that I was in the middle of a shopping plaza. Where was I? How long have I been out? Why is there a guinea pig in the backseat? The answers to all of these questions had to wait. Rony Romance had determined that I needed wings to end the evening and, at this point, who was I to argue? We walked in and... is that Destiny's Child? In a sports bar? What? I decided to go with it. Little did I know that we were in the midst of a DC playlist and as I would eat my wings, my hands would raise the roof to 'Survivor.' So, I walked to my table to the beat of 'Jumpin', Jumpin'' and I told myself to go with it. This is a Rony Romance production. He goes to the bar and sweet talks the waitress and all of a sudden, we're chugging down "the last" Hatueys in the joint. I don't know how he does the voodoo that he do so well... but I just go with it. Plus, Beyonce is telling me to say her name. As I realize that I'm "ackin' kinda crazay ahnd callin' her baybay," I realize that there are only dudes in the joint. I get it. Sports bars aren't the first place to which I would bring a lady friend but the vibe was much more 'Blue Oyster Bar' than 'Rudy.' As I noticed big, burly men sharing baskets of fries, the DC playlist and lack of sports on the tv... at a sports bar suddenly made sense... as did all the hookups Rony Romance was managing to wrangle from our waitress. What had been a 'closed kitchen' soon served up wings and waffle cheese fries! Holla! I don't know whether it was because I was just coming back to life from a evening my memory still won't let me process, but those wings and fries were #truth. Plus, I mean, WAFFLE CHEESE FRIES! #alwaysagooddecision

I don't know how I came here. I'm fairly certain I could never find my way back. It may have all been a feverish dream as I sweated out the last of the hooch toxins. I don't know. All I know that by the time I arrived back at my vehicle (in the dead of night), I was stone cold sober, my mouth and hands were covered in grease, I had cheese stains on my shirt, and my gut hurt from over eating. I love nights with Rony Romance.