Ah, the smell of beer. The waft of burgers and chips. Screams of ecstasy that accompanies a goal. Dejected wails that echo after a failed pass. The acrid fug of cigarettes stubbed out at a pool table. To my mind, this is not une odour sublime. Gridiron is not all of this, thankfully. It has billed itself as a sports bar but it’s that and so much more. A look-see of the inside raises the question: Oh Gridiron, from what realm of sporty decadence did you spring from?

It’s the décor that hits you when you enter – a shiny type of class with lights lining the central bar and 30-odd television screens on the walls like ticker-tape. The furniture’s not bad: monochrome tables are paired with miniscule bar stools (prepare to get a sore bum) as well as sofas that line the walls. However, eschew them in favour of the comfy, sunked-in lounge chairs underneath the screens that cushion your whole body, inviting you into a state of ‘Match of the Day’ bliss.

Happy Hour deals abound on all beers, whether it be Tiger, Guinness, Heineken or Kilkenny. The menu has its fair share of pasta, burgers and nibbles, typical of a sports joint. So far, so sports bar. But what’s that? They have a two-for-one cocktail deal. While the caiprinha leaves something to be desired (it is strong yet flavourless), the mojito tingles the tongue with its liberal use of mint and the Long Island iced tea leaves us woozy – one imagines it can be quite dangerous to drink several in one setting.

The food menu is a pleasant surprise as well. Dishes didn’t come quickly – something we can appreciate given the quality of the meals. The roasted chicken was perfectly cooked; the jacket potatoes balanced with the right amount of cheese and chili con carne. Consider us sports converts; we’ll be the first ones here should we be inclined to munch on nuts, down a pint and shout with the rest of the fans. Syazlynia Rahim