For five formative years, a modest pub in north London served as the unwavering sanctuary for a group of footballing friends. From 2011 to 2016, the Park Tavern in Finsbury Park was the essential post-match retreat for the amateur five-a-side team, DisOrient FC, becoming a crucible for camaraderie that outlasted their time on the pitch.
A Marriage of Convenience That Became a Home
The team's initial allegiance to the Park Tavern was purely practical. It was, without question, the closest pub to their Tuesday night five-a-side pitches. Its other selling points were straightforward: it served Guinness and possessed toilets that were, in the words of one regular, "just about" functioning. While trendier spots like the foliage-draped Faltering Fullback with its Thai food made the guides, the Park Tavern's charm was decidedly unpolished. A lasting fixture was an advertisement above the urinals for the 2001 PlayStation game, Hogs of War, its tagline—"Who's got the biggest weapon?"—providing a constant, if bizarre, point of contemplation.
After 40 minutes of being routinely trounced by larger opponents, the team lacked the energy to trek anywhere more fashionable. The Park Tavern's quiet, reliably empty tables became their council chamber. Here, over two, three, or four pints, they would meticulously dissect heavy defeats—like losing 7-1 to a side that played a quarter of the match with only four men. Debates over formations and tactics were earnest but ultimately futile, often undone the following week when someone would forget their kit and have to play in chinos.
From Gallows Humour to Glorious Triumph
As the seasons and pints of Guinness flowed, the team's fortunes, and the pub's atmosphere, began to shift. By recruiting better players, DisOrient FC evolved. The Park Tavern transformed from a venue solely for shared grief into one that also hosted joy and triumph. The pinnacle came with winning the B League, celebrated by cracking open the barman's finest—a £14 bottle of prosecco. In a gesture of true acceptance, the landlord, revealed to be "a cracking fella," allowed the team to display their trophy behind the bar, where it was later semi-accidentally obscured by a bottle of Baileys.
The pub itself grew livelier as other teams followed their lead. Yet, despite weekly visits for years, specific anecdotes are scarce, save for one memorable toilet sighting of Beppe from EastEnders. The real, enduring story isn't of wild nights, but of the profound friendship forged between the seven regulars—a bond that remains strong today.
A Bastion Against Unwanted Change
Initially, the pub's established locals seemed bemused by the weekly invasion of young men in full football kit. This wasn't the usual clientele for a Finsbury Park local serving the "old guard." But unlike the typical gentrifying force demanding craft ale and honey-glazed wings, this team craved stability. They didn't want the Park Tavern to change one bit, perhaps aside from a new urinal freshener. For them, its unchanging, unpretentious character was the perfect backdrop for building something lasting: not just a better football team, but a lifelong circle of friends. In the end, that proved to be the ultimate measure of a great pub.
