Toots Shor's: The Rise And Fall Of An Iconic New York Institution

Hank Sanicola (left), Toots Shor (center) and Frank Sinatra (right)Photo byDell Publishing

By Mark Kolier

In an alternative reality, picture this:

It’s 11:30 PM in May 2024 and rap music has been pounding in the room all night. A resplendently dressed Juan Soto and Aaron Judge are sitting with Mookie Betts and Shohei Ohtani at Toots Shor II on 51^st street in Manhattan. The Dodgers and Yankees are in the middle of a three-game series and there’s a night game tomorrow night. The lounge is filled with movie stars, musicians, and a few NYC media personalities. Everyone is having a good time, since the policy is that no photos are allowed.

None of this could happen today. Starting with the “no phones” policy. But that was the world created by famed sports restaurateur Toots Shor, whose establishment (it was called a restaurant and lounge but really was a bar serving food with banquet rooms) opened in 1940 and finally closed in 1971.

From Vince Guerrieri’s article in SABR. It’s a worthwhile short biography.

Toots Shor’s has been called the first and possibly the greatest sports bar. It wasn’t a place where you could watch a game, or even listen to it, but it became known as “the country’s unofficial sports headquarters” by no less an authority than The New Yorker. On a given night, a Who’s Who of the sporting world could be found there, as well as the writers who covered them — and even some writers who didn’t. Earl Wilson stopped in twice a day, gathering material for his syndicated gossip column. Supposedly, Yogi Berra was introduced to Ernest Hemingway there. Berra, whose literary tastes ran toward comic books, asked, “What paper you with, Ernie?” (Toots Shor’s was also supposedly the place about which Berra said, “Nobody goes there anymore. It’s too crowded.”)

Born May 6, 1903, Toots himself was a character in every sense. The food, per Toots, was “nuttin’ fancy,” standard sports bar fare for the time – shrimp cocktail and steaks with baked potatoes were king.

Allegedly, Louis B. Mayer, movie mogul and head of MGM Studio, complained one day about waiting 20 minutes for a table and said, “I trust the food will be worth all that waiting.” Shor replied: “It’ll be better’n some of your crummy pictures I stood in line for.”

According to David Halberstam in his book The Summer of '49, guests had to observe the unwritten "code" which prevailed in Shor's establishment. Patrons had to wait their turn. Charlie Chaplin learned that lesson but still frequented Toots Shor, as did Joe DiMaggio and later Mickey Mantle. Frank Sinatra was a regular and sang about Toots Shor’s. Former President Richard Nixon, while he was a private attorney in NYC in the 1960s, would stop in. Supreme Court Chief Justice Earl Warren considered Toots Shor one of his closest friends. In the first season of Mad Men, Don and Betty Draper meet Roger and Mona Sterling at Shor’s. It was a sign that Don Draper had truly arrived.

That a restaurateur could be the toast of the town is from a time long ago and far away. So much so that it seems somehow quaint. But not everything was hunky-dory. The culture of drinking large amounts of alcohol was accepted and even admired. One night, Toots famously outdrank Jackie Gleason, leaving Gleason literally on the floor. Wives were not encouraged at Toots Shor, but married men with women that were not their wives were not welcome either. Toots claimed that he didn’t run a “dame” joint. And Toots Shor’s was in many ways the proverbial “joint.” There was zero elegance.

While Toots Shor’s was a sports bar, baseball was first in Toots’ heart. He attended both Yankees and Giants games. Major League Baseball Commissioner Ford Frick held events at the restaurant as his office was nearby. Shor took a turn at managing a team of all-stars who played a team organized by the famed one-time speakeasy, the 21 Club. The game was held at the Polo Grounds. That would not happen today, and not because the Polo Grounds are long gone.

Its location on the west side of midtown Manhattan made it an easy place to reach. The restaurant was a quick 20-minute ride after a game by subway from either Yankee Stadium or the Polo Grounds. Toots moved the restaurant to a new location on 52nd St. in 1960. The restaurant looked the same, but didn’t feel the same. Already the Dodgers and Giants had left for the west coast in 1958. Players and their families began to move to the suburbs. Going to Toots Shor’s wasn’t “it” anymore. These factors all contributed to Toots’ change in fortune. By 1964, the world had changed dramatically from when Toots Shor opened in 1940.

Significantly, in 1964, the Mets, who had played their first two years in the Polo Grounds, decamped for Shea Stadium in Queens and a much longer subway ride, making a trip to Toots Shor’s more of a chore. By 1971, Toots Shor’s was no more. Mickey Mantle later in 1988 opened his own restaurant on Central Park South (called Mickey Mantle’s) wanting it to be like Toots Shor’s. Toots himself fell on hard times, battling arthritis and cancer throughout the 1970s. He died destitute less than six years after closing his eponymous restaurant in January 1977. Hundreds turned out for his funeral at Temple Emanu-El.

The great sportswriter Red Smith wrote, “There never was a gathering place like it, and there never will be again.”

Society today looks much less favorably on the drinking culture exhibited during the heyday of Toots Shor’s. That time has passed, never to return. Try to imagine a place where baseball players, celebrities, and notables would gather and, since they are in such close proximity, actually interact. It just feels like it would be awkward or weird. Or wouldn’t happen at all.

Although I am not exactly young, I was too young to ever go to Toots Shor’s. I became aware of it and read about the place in various stories – almost all of those stories having to do with baseball.

I can faintly envision a mega-star sitting and talking with an MLB player, but today both might be sipping on a cappuccino or fruit drink, since cameras would be everywhere. That is reality. Which is why a place like Toots Shor’s could not work today. At least I don’t believe so, and that’s a little bit of a shame. An updated version of classic Toots Shor’s is a place I’d like to check out.

About the Author: Mark Kolier along with his son Gordon co-hosts a baseball podcast called ‘Almost Cooperstown’. He also has written baseball-related articles that can be accessed on Medium.com and now Substack.com.