Caray On
The Seventh-Inning Stretch in Pub Form

Lately, you've felt as if a great benevolent spirit is watching over you, over this entire city. He knows your heart, your desires, your softly whispered prayers. He has the answer.

The answer is beer.

Come Monday, Harry Caray's Tavern Navy Pier will be ready to hoist another frothy cold one with you.

By now, of course, you're familiar with the tavern in Wrigleyville, with its dark wood, brass fixtures, celebrity photos and IMAX-ian screen that looms over your chicken Vesuvio.

This place does that one better: it's directly across from a real IMAX theater, meaning that if you catch that new Burton/Depp project next week, you'll have a nearby rabbit hole to crawl into (only here, the tea party is whiskey-fueled).

When you walk in, you'll be greeted with pictures of important people like Jeremy Piven—who is an investor here—plus some dude named Obama, posing with Harry's bronze bust. Inside you'll find a veritable sports museum worth of memorabilia from Chicago's sports past—basically, the Louvre of Chicago sports, where Ryne Sandberg's 1989 play-offs home run bat is sort of the Mona Lisa.

On Monday, the opening ceremony includes drinks specials, 96-cent Ferris wheel rides and raffles, and—why not?—Joe Piscopo. And, as luck would have it, it also happens to be the day Harry Caray would have turned 96 years old.

That calls for another round.