The happiest and healthiest person in Wise Guy’s corner is also the one who has been here the longest. Bob Borgstrom says, “When I was a teenager we’d go to hockey games at the Stadium, and between periods we’d sneak over to the original Goat. People were always four or five deep at the bar, so we’d called out our drinks and pass over the money nobody ever asked how old we were and that was a good thing. But boy, did that place smell. Really bad because of all the animals around.”
Bob and a couple of other white-haired Billy Goat regulars remember all of the taverns and restaurants that used to pepper the neighborhood. And he remembers the day the Billy Goat opens: “It was painted fire engine red. It was like sitting in a firehouse. And it was tough on Billy at first. That first year he must have gone through 25 bartenders. All of them were stealing. That’s why he used to sit in a high chair right by the stairs with that kid’s hammer that squeaked and that he used to bang on anybody he saw staring at the girls walking down the stairs and say, ‘Don’t pay attention to that!’ What he was really doing was watching the bartenders and the cash register.”
