There are plenty of sports that reserve their inner sancta for players who’ve invested thousands of dollars in equipment and devoted years to practice.
Then there’s pickleball, in which being a serious player just means telling people within minutes of meeting them that pickleball is the fastest-growing sport in the country. Extra points for mentioning that the game has a shallow learning curve.
From my spot on the court at Fifty West Brewing Company, I might not have guessed that more than 50,000 Americans are card-carrying members of USA Pickleball. But I could vouch for the simplicity of the sport, which is closer in spirit to life-size ping pong than tennis. Picklers use paddles, and they’re not allowed to deploy an overhead serve—or just about any other maneuver that would strain a six-year-old girl or her arthritic grandpa.
In fact, once we got a rally going, my biggest challenge was not tripping on a half-eaten crinkle cut fry.
At this point, there aren’t any pickleball restaurants in the Southeast: I had to cross the Ohio border to experience a pickleball venue with an elaborate food menu. But the region’s landscape is on the cusp of a major shift, with pickleball restaurants under development in cities including Charlotte, Atlanta, and Wilmington.
Two weeks ago, the planning commission in Bluffton, South Carolina reviewed a proposal for a pickleball restaurant; pickleball restaurants are already in the works for Summerville and Mount Pleasant, suburbs of Charleston.
“I’m bummed that we’re not already out there,” says Rachel Santschi of Chicken N Pickle, the best known pickleball restaurant chain. Based in Kansas City, Chicken N Pickle has locations in Kansas, Missouri, Oklahoma, and Texas. “[We] field a ton of phone calls from people who want Chicken N Pickle in their city, but we’re still a very small company: We’re taking it as fast as we can.”
Because it’s been a hot pickleball summer for feature writers, with publications such as The New Yorker, The New York Times, and Sports Illustrated unpacking the significance of the trend, there’s already been some chatter about what these new pickleball restaurants could mean for pickleball.
Yet there’s been less talk about what pickleball restaurants could mean for restaurants. Based on my short court session, I suspect that could be a cheery discussion (and very on brand for a sport that prides itself on churning out happiness.)
For pickleball players, food-and-beverage complexes bring more courts, period. Many pickleballers couldn’t care less about the origin of the kale in their salmon salads, so long as they don’t have to worry about finding space to play after eating their last leaf.
“Demand is far surpassing available courts,” says Stacie Townsend of The Pickler newsletter.
That’s a diplomatic way of describing the felony arrests and heated City Hall feuds that have stemmed from the asphalt shortage. Clashes between tennis and pickleball players have lately grown so intense that a leading tennis writer this month recommended that all involved consider themselves one big racquet-bearing family, which sounds like something the losing side would say.
Townsend recently wrote a column titled, “The #1 Threat to the Growth of Pickleball,” in which she calculated the nation is going to need another 279,825 courts by 2030, when 40 million people are projected to count themselves as pickleball enthusiasts.
Even if a restaurant adds just half a dozen courts to the local mix, that helps, Townsend says—unless restaurant patrons take up the sport and worsen court availability woes.
Still, she hopes the new venues will spur municipalities to build more courts, since pickleball is predicated on accessibility. Restricting the sport to those who can afford a plate of chorizo fondue, plus court fees, doesn’t sit well with diehards.
“That’s the great thing about this sport: It’s for everybody, regardless of socioeconomic status,” says Townsend, who thinks of pickleball restaurant visits as rare treats, much like Topgolf outings. “That’s what this sport is about.”
Considering the magnitude of desire for pickleball courts, it’s reasonable to imagine pickleball entrepreneurs building clubs with pickleball locker rooms and pickleball pro shops and lighted pickleball courts for nighttime play. But this is where pickleball’s strength works against it, or at least against people trying to profit off the sport: Pickleball is such a snap to pick up that nobody needs to book weekly lessons or register for drop shot clinics.
In other words, someone who wants to make money in the pickleball biz needs to find another source of revenue. A restaurant is the perfect fit, even if the classic sales per square foot equation is complicated slightly by devoting a badminton-sized space—roughly 20 feet by 44 feet—to friendly competition.
“Most players love the social aspect, and food-and-drink is a natural extension of any social activity,” Townsend says.
Pickleball isn’t the only sport that appeals to extroverts. Lots of golfers, bowlers and softball league members would say they play to spend time with friends. But what’s unique about pickleball is a typical game lasts about 15 minutes.
“You can play with more than four people and rotate around on one court,” explains Alisa Tolliver, owner of the forthcoming Pickle Bar, a 40,000-square foot venue with a restaurant, bar, and nine courts. “Maybe two people want to have a beer or appetizer until their turn comes up.”
At Pickle Bar, that appetizer will have been approved by consulting chef BJ Dennis, a prominent ambassador for Gullah culinary culture. Although the restaurant’s menu hasn’t yet been released, it’s highly unlikely that Dennis would sign off on cheese pizza and chicken nuggets.
“Our founder wanted to make really good food,” Santschi of Chicken N Pickle says. “The only thing frozen is our tater tots, because we haven’t figured that one out yet.”
Since I haven’t tasted anything from Chicken N Pickle’s kitchen, I don’t know if their food would impress outside of a pickleball setting. But everything we ordered at Fifty West was terrific, and the looping from court to table and back again was a kind of fun that diners may have forgotten.
A century ago, newspaper readers knew they’d reached the restaurant portion of the advertising pages when they saw the word “dancing.” Live bands and dance floors were important amenities, because even highly cultured people didn’t want to sit and talk about the Stewed Chicken Supreme for hours.
Dancing and dining haven’t been wholly severed. There are still roadhouses in Texas, lounges in Louisiana, and line dancing saloons in Tennessee where customers nightly engage in both activities. And most folks seem to know what to do at a wedding.
But all too often, restaurants are reluctant to offer anything that distracts from their food. That’s a whole lot of pressure to put on a fried Brussels sprout.
As I realized after kicking aside the stray fry on my Fifty West court, it doesn’t have to be that way. In short, what pickleball could do for restaurants is free them from feeling like they need to cook up the night’s entertainment.
Did I mention it’s easy to learn?
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