CLEVELAND, Ohio – When it comes to beer and wine, readers know that our Marc Bona is your man. But every now and again, he’s kind enough to let me tread into his wheelhouse for a “Classic CLE Eats & Drinks” column.
Like him, a) I like a good beer (or two) and b) I’m a sucker for a good story. If that story includes legend-journeyman Les “The Beer Guy” Flake, even better.
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Flake has been slinging suds at Cleveland baseball games since 1974, the year that The Front Row and Richfield Coliseum opened. In fact, he’s vended at many of the region’s altars to sports and concerts over the years. His rallying cry is as powerful as our ballpark mustard.
Games without him are like Harold Melvin without the Blue Notes.
That’s to say that this guy has been around, seen some things and remembers when Municipal Stadium attendance meant counting all the ushers and concessionaires twice.
No visit to Progressive Field is complete without hearing him holler.
“Not the taxman, not the gasman. It’s the Beer Guy!”
So beloved is the Beer Guy that when a kitchen mishap landed him on the injured reserve list in 2023, CLE’s fans poured cold ones (cash) into Flake’s GoFundMe while he was out of commission.
That embodies one of my favorite Baseballisms ever:
One of our favorite Baseballisms, as seen in the wild at Progressive Field. When fans came to the aid of Les "The Beer Guy" Flake after an injury put him on the DL a couple years back, this is all we could think of. Nice job, C-town.Peter Chakerian, Cleveland.com
“A friend is a person who is willing to lay down a bunt to get you to second.”
It surprised absolutely no one when The Jolly Scholar teamed up with Flake to create a crushable American craft lager – perfect anytime, especially during baseball season – with help from Westlake’s Sibling Revelry on the canning and distribution tip.
Cold Beer Here (which is one of his favorite phrases) pours a beautifully faint gold, with a dove-white head that sticks around for a minute. The nose is biscuity and bready, with a lightly herbal fragrance underneath and a smooth, easy drinking body.
It’s one of my many local summer suds favorites.
But perhaps most importantly, this beer hustles – just like its namesake – quenching that summer-sun thirst faster than an Emmanuel Clase fastball.
Les Flake – “The Beer Guy!” – pouring one out a game in 2005.The Plain Dealer
While Flake was out of commission, I kept hearing his rallying cry. It was like a kind of phantom limb syndrome or tinnitus after a concert – like the late John Adams’ bass drum cadence when it fell silent.
You didn’t exactly hear it, but it was certainly there.
If you’ve read this column long enough, you know that aside from a born-raised-lifelong, I’m also a buy/celebrate local. To me, it transcends supporting community and small business. When something echoes deeply, like Flake and Cold Beer Here, a funny thing happens.
You’re left with a sense of place. Kinship. Looking out for each other. Belonging. Understanding what makes Cleveland and Northeast Ohio tick.
It’s a sense of pride and camaraderie, Midwest Nice, nicknames and inside jokes informed by history, thrill of victory, agony of defeat and work ethic.
It’s also the kind of thing no one from outside truly grasps until they spend time here. To put it another way, IYKYK. Now, I’m not saying the first pull of a beer can summon all of that. But I’m not saying it can’t, either.