Syracuse, N.Y. — Doubt hung in the air on Tipperary Hill Sunday morning. It was right there with the snowflakes, the sound of boots crunching on fresh powder and the quiet question nobody wanted to say out loud.
Would anyone actually show up?
Two hours before the doors opened at Coleman’s Authentic Irish Pub, the snow started falling at a good clip. Not the pretty kind that dusts the rooftops for a postcard — this was heavy, wet snow, the kind that clings to your hair, soaks through your gloves and undoes all the careful mirror work you did before heading out the door…