Clover River WestClover Lincoln ParkClover Wrigley
Gracie's Wicker ParkGracie's Portage ParkGracie's Edgewater
Your web presence, handled.
Six rooms. One person who answers. Changes that land the same day.
A working session with Sean · July 2026
Act One · The sites
These exist right now. Open yours.
Not mockups on a screen — real, rebuilt pages you can open on your phone. Same voice you already have, the stuff people expect in 2026, and the things your current sites bury brought up front.
Tap any one. They open in a new tab — come back here when you're done.
Act One · What I saw from the outside
An honest read. Nothing here is a guess.
Anyone can read your admin logins
All four sites publish their WordPress admin usernames. River West's is literally admin — that's half a working login, published to the open web.
The sites announce their own version
Every page broadcasts WordPress 6.9.4 in its code — the first thing anyone poking at a site looks for.
Wrigley points fans at a dead account
cloverwrigley.com still links the old @cloverwrigleychi — an account that no longer exists. Your real one, @cloverwrigley, is nowhere on the site.
Placeholder text is live on two Gracie's
Wicker Park and Portage Park still show "Lorem ipsum" dummy text — Portage Park's is sitting right under "Daily Specials."
A domain expires December 4
cloverchicago.com — the flagship — comes up for renewal this winter. Miss it and the whole thing can lapse.
And plenty is right
Your security certificates are clean, the sites are current, and the programming and the voice are genuinely good. This isn't a teardown — it's a tune-up.
Act One · The first 30 days
None of this waits on a redesign meeting.
Week 0 · Day one
Secure & map. Find everything the current guy touches. Lock the admin exposure. Set a watch on that December domain.
Week 1
The embarrassing stuff, gone quietly. Placeholder text removed, the dead Wrigley link fixed. And the request line goes live — every fix after this is one you can see.
Week 2
Substance. This-week programming on every page, from your real calendars. Menu answers everywhere. Press where it's real.
Weeks 3–4
The rebuilds go live, venue by venue, behind your approval. Google listings audited across all six. A renewal + backup routine that just runs.
Act One · Going live, plainly
These aren't mockups for a meeting. Here's the real path.
The switch
Your domains stay yours. Each venue flips only when you approve it — the old site stays up until the second the new one takes over. No dark time, and Google keeps finding you (the redirects are my problem, not yours).
The hosting
Fast, modern hosting I run. Certificates, backups, and that December domain renewal — watched. A content pass with you before each flip: menus, hours, the stuff only you know.
The numbers
Analytics from day one. Who's visiting, which nights pull, what a post actually drives — in a plain-English readout, not a dashboard you have to learn.
The request line
Goes live the same week, as its own little site. That's your window into all of it from day one.
What I'd need from you: the domain access (whoever holds it — you or your current guy), whatever logins exist, your files as they are — texts and all — and a yes. I chase down the rest myself.
You've seen what I built with zero access. This screen is the unglamorous part — and the unglamorous part is the job.
Act One · How it works with me
You type it. It gets done. You see it.
No tickets to file, no agency portal, no waiting a week to hear back. You say it like you'd text it — it reaches me, it gets handled, and you watch it move to done with a link to the change. Usually same-day.
This is what working with me looks like.
End of the website conversation — that's the job.
Clover Wrigley"The Instagram button goes to a dead page."
Received→In progress→Done
✓ Now links your live @cloverwrigley · same day
The nights
One of your nights, online right now.
1 & 3
likes on the last two posts for Portage Park's Thursday darts tournament — cash on the line, every week — to an audience of 1,040.
A real weekly night, with prize money, and almost nobody outside the room knows it's happening.
Jun 25 · 3 likes
Jul 2 · 1 like
Jul 9 · this week's
Your own posts, your own numbers — pulled this week.
The nights · handled
Here's that same night, run like it matters.
The week before
- Mon: the poster drops — print for the door, sized art for the feed and stories
- Wed: "bring a partner" reminder — doubles, so it's a group text, not a solo trip
- Thu AM: "cash on the line tonight, 7:30" — the money is the hook, say it
Night of
- 7:00 check-in post + a story with the bracket filling up
- 7:30 first throws — a quick live clip, sound on
- Late: the winners, the payout, the crowd — that's next week's poster
If it goes sideways
- Thin turnout? pivot the post to walk-ins + a drink special, same night
- Rain / big game? the darts move to the calendar's quiet slot, no dead air
- Every result gets saved — so the night compounds instead of resetting
The same treatment we'd give a launch — for the night you already run.
The nights · saved & historical
And it's all kept — forever.
Every night ships with a pack: a print poster for the door, a feed image, a story-and-X-sized cut, and the caption written. Organized per night, so nothing gets rebuilt from scratch — and nothing gets lost.
PRINTThursday Darts — door posterletter size · print-ready PDF
FEEDSquare post for Instagram1080 × 1350 · ready to publish
STORYStory & X-sized cutsame art, every place it needs to go
WORDSThe caption, writtenthe hook, the details, the hashtags
And it lands on a calendar — the month at a glance, every venue. That same calendar can go public on the website, so your customers see what's on. (Which loops right back to Act One.)
One more thing
I'm building an operating system for bar groups.
It's fresh, it's mine, and you're seeing it early. The nights, the calendar, the content, every venue — one place. Work with me on the website side, and as we go, this becomes yours too — the website work merges right in.
After you say go
Everything you've seen took zero access.
No logins, no files, nothing from you — all of it built from what's already public. Here's what it looks like when I actually have the keys.
First 30 days
The website job lands. Sites secured and going live behind your approval, the request line open and answering.Your part: yes or no. Ten minutes a week.
Day 30–60
The rhythm sets in. Every week, every venue — the programming posted, the posters shipped, the calendar current, nothing rebuilt from scratch.Your part: glance at one screen when you feel like it.
Day 60–90
Eyes where the money is quiet. The rooms that earn less get deliberate attention — a Portage Park Thursday stops being invisible. What works, compounds.Your part: rule on ideas, not chores.
That's the plan, plainly — not history that's already happened. Week one is real the day you say go.
Your stuff, organized
Hand me the pile once. It stays organized forever.
Posters, menus, logos, photos — if your rooms are like most bars, they live in text threads, old emails, and somebody's laptop. I already run a system for exactly this: everything named, filed per venue, kept current. You and your managers get access to all of it, any time.
LOGOMaster logo sets — every size, one placeper venue, print + web
MENUMenus current everywhere at oncesite · print · Google — one update, all three
PHOTOThe photo library, by venue by nightfound, named, findable
POSTEREvery poster ever made, archivednothing gets rebuilt from scratch — or lost
"Where's the St. Patrick's poster from last year?"
Answered in ten seconds — by anyone you've given access.
Shown with example files — yours move in on day one. The per-night vault from Act Two is this same system.
Where this goes
I garden and run it. What's underneath keeps growing.
From day one — how it runs
- Me, hands on. One person who answers, same-day, for all six rooms
- The websites, the request line, the weekly night rhythm — mine to run from week one
- You and the managers see everything — nothing is a black box
Ahead — as we go
- More of the rhythm automates — posters draft themselves, the calendar publishes itself
- The operating system you glimpsed deepens across all six rooms
- It gets built running your rooms — so as it becomes a product, you're first in line
The "ahead" column is direction, not dated promises — and you watch it happen from the same screen.
