Sports bars and pubs were big business during the 2002 World Cup Soccer finals cohosted by Japan and South Korea. Many opened in Tokyo just in time to milk the influx of fans. But for the three partners who teamed up to create the Clubhouse in Shinjuku, the soccer was simply a bonus. Their target had been the kick-off of the 1999 Rugby World Cup.

Even so, they opened 1 1/2 years prior to the event so that they could iron out the lumps and bumps that are involved in setting up a new business. The event itself was to be the test of their success. And they passed with flying colors.

All three were resident foreigners -- one Australian, one English and one American. And all three met while playing rugby. Garna Dowling, the Australian, was the one who pulled the Clubhouse team together. He first came to Japan to work in a ski resort in Tochigi Prefecture -- a job for which he was recruited while recovering from a rugby injury back home. A six-week gig has turned into a 10-year stay, a time during which he did more than his fair share of English teaching.

"I enjoyed teaching, but it became stressful after a while, so it was either find something new or go home," explains Garna.

Around that time, his favorite sports bar in Azabu closed, leaving him and his rugby mates without a place where they could hook up and watch and talk about the game. So Garna came up with the idea of opening a new place. He recruited Andy Lunt -- the English partner, who is well known as the host of his in-laws' izakaya in Yurakucho -- and Jerry Brady -- a native New Yorker, who was so into food that he'd flown to Thailand to take cooking classes (and that's why you'll find Thai curry on the menu). Between the three of them they had all bases covered -- a concept, the contacts and a menu that was guaranteed to please.

But it is their love of rugby and sports in general that has given the Clubhouse its best advantage. And the regulars who frequent it ensure that it lives up to its name by imbuing it with a warm and friendly atmosphere.

Regulars such as Yuri Hirano were hardcore from day one. She could be found waiting for the Clubhouse to open every morning at 5 a.m. during the 1999 Rugby World Cup. She is such a rugby nut, in fact, that she published a book ("Japan Maboroshi Kick-off," Futabasha, 1994) about her trip to Hong Kong to see the Sevens.

Others, like Sean, an old mate of Garna's, organize a friendly round of darts every Monday night. But you'll find no beeping electronic machines at the Clubhouse -- just a classic cork dartboard set up well out of the way of nonplaying customers.

The interior is unfussy and accommodating. Unlike chain pubs or franchised sports bars, the knickknacks haven't been simply set up to look that way. They've accumulated over time. The collection of rugby balls from memorable matches, the odd pewter plate and trophy, a handful of photo albums and sundry items are nicely topped off by a stuffed Pooh Bear. A stretch of white wall just inside the entrance has been signed by various visiting teams, including the 2001 U.S. Women's Sevens.

Everything that lies within the front door is as unpretentious as the greeting it bears: "G'day Mate -- Welcome to the Clubhouse."