By Jacob Katel
By Karli Evans
By Jose D. Duran
By Pablo Chacon Alvarez
By Kat Bein
By Abel Folgar
By Laurie Charles
Longtime Kendall biker bar Scully's Tavern better watch out. LA Sports Bar and Grill (10575 SW 109th Ct., Kendall; 305-270-0311) is new competition. On a recent Thursday night, the row of hogs lined up in LA's elevated courtyard loomed over the adjacent street like a shiny black fortress. The Hermandads, a clan of bikers usually stomping ground at Scully's, were at the bar sporting their labeled leather jackets and revving their motorcycles. The "norms" (anyone not belonging to a subculture) sat inside.
In recent years the joint had gained notoriety as diner College Park Inn. Students from Miami Dade College's Kendall campus (located across the street) would gather on the concrete patio for pizza. Now thirty- and fortysomething biker types come for the three-dollar pitcher specials. Of the few scattered twentysomethings present, one voluptuous girl in a Volcom hoodie stood out. Her loud drunk-girl voice could be heard shouting, "Drink that shit, you pussy bitch," and "Kiss is the shit!" as she banged her head to "Detroit Rock City."
The DJ dropped run-of-the-mill rocker anthems by Guns N' Roses and Lynyrd Skynyrd, but some of the younger patrons weren't up on their classic rock hits. "Oh, ZZ Top," said a shaggy-haired 22-year-old when George Thorogood and the Destroyers' "Bad to the Bone" played. An older metalhead corrected him and later quizzed him when "Girls, Girls, Girls" came on. Shaggy didn't know it was Mötley Crüe.
The tables around the patio were beginning to clear up when the sound of shattering glass roused the remaining crowd into a brief hollering frenzy. Coincidentally there was a shard of broken glass on my table, perhaps the remnant of a fight, but most likely just a drunken accident. Despite all the leather and Confederate flag patches, the vibes at LA were more friendly than frightening. Tough-looking men and women in bandannas moved from group to group on an amicable breeze. On the sidewalk, a pair of Hermandads mounted a bike and roared off into the night, waving.