Mahoney’s and the Eternal Wagon Wheel

Mahoney's Irish Pub. Photo by Ava Battinelli '26

It’s 3:55 a.m. You hear the first notes of “Wagon Wheel” by Darius Rucker. You’re on the dance floor at Mahoney’s Irish Pub and Steakhouse. You’re smiling. You’re exhausted. You’re drunk. How did you get here?

It’s 12:00 a.m. You’re getting in a cab. Maybe it’s Jimmy. Maybe it’s Gani. Maybe it's Hassan. Maybe it’s Carissa. Maybe it’s Simo.

It doesn’t matter whose cab you’re cramming in; you don’t even have to tell them where to go – they already know. But why?

Almost immediately after Mahoney’s opened in 2004, it became the go-to Saturday night spot for Marist upperclassmen.

“When a place this size opens, it's like ‘Oh look at this place.’ It stayed busy right from the get-go,” said Patrick Rohan, general manager of Mahoney’s. “It attracted the Marist kids and vice versa. We wanted to keep them as customers.”

There’s long been a mystique surrounding Mahoney’s, largely because it's so strict. Since its opening, the bar has been stern when it comes to fake IDs; they have always wanted it to be a safe space for of-age students.

The firm rules add to the charm of Mahoney’s. For most students’ first three years at Marist, they only hear about Mahoney’s, patiently waiting for their 21st birthday to experience it.

It’s 12:45 a.m. You survived the cab ride, waited in line, happily handed over your $5 cover and ordered your first drink. It’s time for your first lap, and you take your drink on a tour of Mahoney’s unique, massive layout. It’s not your father’s college bar; it isn’t a small, run-down restaurant with one bar to order drinks from.

You start by peering over the circular balcony, carved by owner Emmett Woods himself with a chainsaw before the bar opened, onto the dance floor, squinting to see if you can spot a friend or two.

After walking downstairs and maneuvering your way around the crowded dance floor, you make your way to the Claddagh Room, Mahoney’s newest space; it was purchased in 2019, after spending time as a private gym and a beauty salon, before sitting vacant for years.

The space was originally purchased with the intention of hosting more private events, but after the clock strikes midnight on a Sunday morning, it turns into a conversation hub. That’s the beauty of it – you know you can find anyone at Mahoney’s, especially in the Claddagh Room.

It’s 2:30 a.m. You’ve done enough talking, and the constant hum of conversation is drowning out the sound of music, so you decide it's time to head to the dance floor.

Well, not directly to the dance floor – that wouldn’t be possible unless you’re willing to throw a few elbows. That’s okay, though, standing on the outskirts is fine. Again, you can hear and feel those booming speakers from there.

Stephen Colvin, of Colvin & Company DJ Service, is likely to be stationed at the base of the stairs, and there’s nowhere else Colvin would rather be.

Though he has been DJing at Mahoney’s since it opened in 2004, Colvin was not always the primary Saturday night DJ. It was his brother, “Mad Mike Colvin.”

Michael Colvin was a Mahoney’s staple on Saturdays until he passed away in 2023 after battling a debilitating autoimmune disorder. Stephen filled in full-time once he got sick in 2022.

“Mahoney’s is a big connection to my brother. I continue to do Saturdays to carry on the tradition that he started,” Stephen Colvin said.

When it comes to Michael’s tradition, there is no more memorable one than the song you’re hearing as you start to sway back and forth with your friends at 3:55 a.m.

Michael and Stephen often played around with different songs to end each night; not long after Rucker released his rendition of “Wagon Wheel” in 2013, Michael chose to close his set with it. The patrons still hanging around loved it, so he did it again the next weekend. And the next weekend. And the one after that.

And now, in 2026, it's become an unwritten rule for whoever is DJing a night at Mahoney’s: they have to end with “Wagon Wheel.”

“If there’s a night that I’m not there, the first thing they ask the person that fills in for me is, ‘Are we getting our ‘Wagon Wheel?’ So they pretty much demand it,” Colvin laughed.

Still, it’s only 2:30 a.m. The 4:00 a.m. closing time seems light-years away. So, you forget about the time, and you dance with your friends. Then you blink.

Now it’s 4:00 am. Time moves fast when you ignore the clock. You just finished screaming the final lines of “Wagon Wheel” with your closest friends from the past four years. The lights are on, and now you’re emotional. You only have so many of these nights left.

But that is the beauty of it.

Next year, it’ll be yet another crop of seniors. The wagon wheel that is Mahoney’s turns, and another spoke will have its year in the spotlight.