Legendary Eagles linebacker Eric Allen, who anchored one of football’s all-time defenses, flew to Oregon last month to visit his son.

Portland State linebacker Jordan Allen was sidelined with a knee injury, so his father wanted to spend the weekend with him while the school’s football team was on the road. The first thing they did was find a place to watch the Birds that Sunday.

“We were looking for a sports bar,” Jordan Allen said. “But I said, ‘Why don’t we try to find an Eagles bar?’”

There are Eagles bars in nearly every city, as Philadelphia transplants gather to cheer on their team in foreign lands. It didn’t take long for the young Allen to find a thread online about a place in Portland that had become a home for Birds fans.

Lombard House was less than 10 miles from Portland State’s campus. “Let’s do it,” said the son. His father agreed. The Allens were on their way.

“We’ll get in there,” Jordan Allen said. “And we were like, ‘Oh.’ Is this it?”

A Philly bar

Brian Koch grew up in Glenside, learned to live and die with the Birds at the Vet, and graduated from Abington High School. She moved to Portland in 2006, leaving behind a miserable job for a new life across the country. He was 30 years old and didn’t know anyone in his new town. It was difficult.

Koch was quietly watching the Eagles on TV alone at a sports bar, while the rest of the bar was cheering in unison for a different game.

“It was very bad,” he said.

He dreamed of owning his own home, a Philly bar like the ones he loved back home. Nothing special. A place where everyone is welcome, the beer is cold and the Eagles compete. In 2016, Koch moved to Portland’s St. He transformed a small, nearly century-old building in St. John’s district into the Lombard House.

“My intention was to make it a Philly bar, but I wanted to ease into the neighborhood,” Koch said. “St. St. John’s is like a lot of Philly neighborhoods where you can’t just show up and be the new guy. So I kind of made it easier.

A year later, as the Eagles marched to the Super Bowl, a group of Birds fans (Philly natives who, like Koch, had moved west) would gather at Koch’s bar every week. So much for relaxation. Lombard House quickly became known as Portland’s hive for Philadelphians looking for a taste of home.

A Philadelphia Stars banner hangs above the bar, a cardboard cutout of Randall Cunningham sits outside on Sundays, and there’s an Orest Kindrachuk bat (the son of a Broad Street Bully regular) on the wall. The bathroom is outside, food is across the street, and only beer – no booze – is served.

During the week, Lombard House is a local hangout where Vietnam veterans drink for free. A bar that sponsors a Little League team — the Phillies, of course — and has live music in its backyard.

On Sundays, Koch rearranges the seats at the 40-foot by 20-foot bar like a father moving couches in the living room to make sure everyone has a place to play. While everyone sat outside, 40 or so seats were saved for patrons — coasters saying “Reserved” were placed at the top. Initially, the bar in Portland sounds like a spot on Frankford Avenue, with a beautiful cacophony of accents coming together.

“People will walk in and say, ‘Where are you from? You sound different from him, he sounds different from him,’ said regular Paul Deitz, who grew up in Bristol. “We are now explaining to the world all the different dialects of Southeastern Pa. A new guy came in last week with a tough Delco. I was dying. “It was incredible.”

there is Philly bar in England is called Passyunk Boulevardbut Koch’s tiny bar in Portland sounds like it could sit on Passyunk Boulevard.

“This is a bar in South Philly,” Deitz said. “Like a basement in South Philly.”

‘I am at home’

Deitz moved to Portland with his wife in 2016 after a bad day at work. But the excitement of living in a new city soon faded.

“It’s been six, seven months and I feel bad,” Deitz said. “Like I would love to go to the parents. “You can use FaceTime and stuff, but it’s not the same.”

Part of what brought him home was watching Birds and texting friends in Bucks County. He tried to find a bar in Portland that resembled Philly, but kept getting noticed. There were gatherings of Eagles fans, but they felt like out-of-town viewing parties. One afternoon, Deitz stopped by a bar in Philly, wishing he could escape.

Several co-workers approached Deitz in St. He mentioned a Philly bar in St. John’s. It took him a few months to finally try it. He stopped by Lombard House in the summer of 2018, just before the start of another football season. Maybe this could be his Sunday spot, Deitz thought.

“My jaw dropped,” Deitz said. “I was like, ‘Oh my God.’ I am at home.’ I wanted to feel like I was watching the game with my family and friends. Brian filled the void that was missing in the love of having family and friends. To me, Brian is a brother. “He is family now.”

The bar didn’t feel at home on Sundays, as they greeted everyone with “Go Birds,” watched the Eagles on TV, and sang the fight song after scores. It was more than the framed photo of Rasheed Wallace, the Iverson jersey, and the punch Koch left on the wall after thinking of his late uncle when the Eagles finally won it all. They were the people who made this place feel like home.

“We were in Denver a few weeks ago and went to the Philly bar there,” Deitz said. “It looked like a club. You fly the Birds flag and the Penn State flag. Cool. That doesn’t make you a Philly bar. There’s nothing flashy about it. There’s nothing sexy about this. A good, real Philly bar. “You could put that bar in South Philly, in Fishtown, in Germantown, and it would be right up your alley.”

Koch can’t serve Yuengling because it’s not yet offered in Oregon, but someone once served up the true taste of Philly at a place that brought Philadelphians back home by flying in with a Wawa hoagie.

“A Philly bar is a place I can go, watch the games, BS around friends, love-cut players, and not have to worry about what to say or how my heart will break while I’m out and about. “It’s open to the public,” Deitz said. “I can share the excitement after a victory, or I can cry and drink away my sorrows with everyone. This is a Philly bar.”

“It’s not like I’m going to a bar. It’s like I’m going to my friend’s house or having a few drinks in the basement or garage. ‘I want to go see Brian and see the connections and friends I made there.’”

Koch has turned his bar into a gathering place both for his neighborhood in Portland and for people like him who have moved across the country with no need for anything else.

“I met a lot of kids who had just graduated from college or had just moved here,” Deitz said. “They’re wearing Eagles jerseys and they’re sitting by themselves. ‘Hey, what’s your name, buddy?’ I will say. I will introduce you to the owner. You can see that they are cowards. They just sit here and want to feel at home. That was me. You feel a little lonely until you build relationships here. Brian provides this. This is great. “We are a big family.”

While his brother was playing at the bar

Nick Calcaterra saw the North Portland Birding Association’s sticker in a post next to a food truck. The Eagles had recently drafted his younger brother Grant. Nick Calcaterra thought this might be a way to watch the games.

The Birdwatchers are a group of diehards who meet weekly at the Lombard House. They started in 2017 by watching the Super Bowl on a 27-inch TV. Koch renovated the screen after the season and added a TV outside as the crowd grew.

Calcaterra attended the 2022 preseason game, which felt like a playoff game to him because it was his brother’s chance to be on the roster as a sixth-round pick.

“I walked in and asked if they were showing preseason games,” said Nick Calcaterra, who lives in Portland and works in finance. “’Yes, but why do you want to know?’ he said. “I said, ‘Well, my brother is on the team, too.'”

The next day, a bartender told Koch that a man had come in the night before and the Eagles had drafted his brother. He said he would come back. Did the bartender at least get a name?

“’I don’t know,’ he said. I didn’t ask him any questions,’” ​​Koch said. “And I said, ‘What the hell, man?’ What if he doesn’t come back?”

” READ MORE: Eagles’ Grant Calcaterra discusses the tight end battle, ‘workhorse’ Jalen Hurts and the impact of Dallas Goedert

Grant Calcaterra founded the Eagles and his brother made Lombard House his home on Sunday. Instead of watching his older brother pursue his NFL dream on his own, he’s surrounded by a bar full of Birds fans 3,000 miles from the Linc. Yes, the man wearing jersey number 81.

“For everyone to be behind me every week, rooting for the same things and applauding the same accomplishments,” Nick Calcaterra said. “Even if it’s a nice block, the whole bar is like, ‘Oh, man.’ This block was very important.’ These days in the NFL won’t last forever, so try to enjoy it as much as you can while it lasts because it’s a lot of fun and exciting. “This place further enhances the experience and entertainment.”

Grant Calcaterra stops by the Lombard House every offseason to host a fundraiser for the National Fallen Firefighters Foundation. Concussions he suffered in college nearly caused him to quit football and become a firefighter before he decided to give the game one last shot.

“I met everyone there and it’s an amazing team,” Grant Calcaterra said. “They really accepted him and cared about him, so I felt an obligation to go out there and do something great for them.”

Home of an Eagles legend

Koch saw Eric Allen enter his bar and had to look again. He grew up with Buddy Ryan, Reggie White and Randall Cunningham. Was it really Eric Allen in his bar? Or a man who looks just like him?

“I think it must be him. He still looks like he can play,” Koch said. “‘Are you Eric Allen?’ I said, ‘Yes’.”

The Allens found a seat outside — the inside seats were saved until midway through the first quarter — and watched the game.

“I said, ‘No, you have to sit inside,'” Koch said. “But it was a beautiful, sunny day.”

Jordan Allen said the outside seat was perfect. He watched Birds with his dad and felt like he was in Philly for a few hours. Eric Allen shared stories about training camp, playing with White and his pick-six against New Orleans in the playoffs.

“I’m talking to a six-time Pro Bowler and he casually tells a few Buddy Ryan stories,” Koch said. “I watch Eric Allen watch the Birds game with his son in our backyard and I buy chicken skin.”

The Allens watched the Birds win that day, and Jordan Allen promised to return. He grew up in San Diego but was raised an Eagles fan. He’s visited Philly enough over the years to know what it feels like to watch with Birds fans.

“It’s a really small bar,” Jordan Allen said. “Probably one of the smallest bars I’ve been to. But the atmosphere and energy there is great. They’re as loud as Chickie’s & Pete’s or Xfinity. His arms were open from the beginning. It was a great time. Before I left I phoned Brian and said, ‘Welcome home.’ I thought this was really cool. My Sundays can be boring. Where will I go to watch the match? Brian is the man and Lombard House is the dot.”

Koch has owned his own bar for eight years, weathering the pandemic by delivering jars of beer to people’s homes and doing whatever it takes to stay afloat. There were difficulties, but St. The man everyone in St. John’s knows as “The Man from Philly” continues to fight. That’s what makes Eric Allen walking through the front door even more special.

Nearly 20 years ago, he didn’t know anyone in Portland and had no place to watch the Birds. Now there is the Where to watch the match. And it’s more than just the posters on the wall that make it so.

“A few times a season someone walks in and it’s like 30-year-old me. “I don’t have a lot of friends,” Koch said. “I was behind the bar a few weeks ago and Paul, he’s so Philly, tapped me on the shoulder. He said, ‘Look at this. Look what he did.’ ‘What?’ ‘It’s a community,’ he said, ‘Everyone feels at home.’ “It kind of hit me. I was like, ‘You’re right.’ I’m pretty proud of it.”