"He instinctively can find the shining greatness of our American culture and does a good job of highlighting it (although he also does have those rare lapses when he writes about hockey, but that is something caused by impurities in the Eastern waters or something)." Erik Keilholtz
Under the patronage of St. Tammany
Mark C. N. Sullivan is an editor at a Massachusetts university. He is married and the father of three children. Email
Sully's Tap near Boston's North Station was the place to spend the early consolation game of the Beanpot, putting on a primer for that night's final at the Garden.
It's gratifying to note that apparently little has changed in the quarter-century since the Irish Elk quaffed 75-cent Knickerbockers at the 150-foot bar that stretches one city block from Canal Street to Friend Street.
* You know that Boston staple, the red-faced, white-haired old dude screaming smug, drunken gibberish at you on the T during your morning commute? He was just here.
* The people in this bar are best described as the salt of the earth. Any other moniker is likely to result in your face being artisticly rearranged (think Picasso). The authentic West End watering hole in other words... #