Below is a short article that I wrote for GameRoom magazine’s Confession of a Coin-Op Addict feature. It originally appeared in the December 2003 issue. The magazine has stopped publishing, and I long ago sold the machines. However, I thought you might find it interesting. If you want to see the video games and pinball machines referenced, you can see them here.

Confessions of a Coin-Op Addict

By Colin Conway
GameRoom Magazine
12/2003

I consider myself lucky to be born in the late sixties. This allowed me to grow up through the seventies and eighties when home computers, home video game systems, and arcades were at the height of their popularity. I grew up on Pong, Atari, Odyssey 2, Vic-20s and Commodore 64s. I was also lucky enough to have a father who loved video games and included me on his trips to arcades. When we lived in Wapakoneta, Ohio my father introduced my brother and me to our very first arcade. I remember my dad being a rabid Red Baron fan and watching in awe as he flew a biplane into battle against enemy fighters. Those vectored dogfights came alive in my imagination. Even though my father loved that game the most, I liked them all from that period and can’t remember having just a single favorite. Whenever I ran out of quarters I’d stand around and watch others playing their games. Just to be a part of the lights and sounds of an arcade was hypnotizing. As that young boy, I promised myself that someday I would have my own arcade.

But it wasn’t until the latter part of the eighties when I fell head over hells in love with a single game. I was in the Army in Munster, Germany when I dropped a quarter into a Robotron 2084 machine and felt an addiction grow. We had a couple of games in our barracks, the other one being something forgettable which is understandable since it sat next to the most amazing and challenging game of the eighties. I’d played Robotron when it first came out earlier in the decade, but never had much success with it. It was too fast and too difficult for me when I was younger. That changed the second time around with the machine.

I would spend weekday nights and weekend mornings dropping quarter after quarter into the game. As much as I was becoming addicted to Robotron, I couldn’t let the game interfere with weekend nights and the sampling of the local beers that Germany is so famous for. While I continued to play and learn the game, my score would grow but I could never reach the high score. That was always held by Craig, a fellow soldier who was a Robotron master. He taught me the tricks and techniques of the game that I hadn’t figured out on my own. Running and firing in opposite directions became second nature instead of a concentrated effort. Soon we’d spend hours together at the Robotron machine and only spend a handful of quarters between the two of us.

Our scores grew to outrageous proportions before I left the Army and came home to Spokane, Washington. When I returned to the Inland Northwest, I searched high and low for a Robotron machine to carry on my addiction. But the only machines I found were under-maintained with usually a broken joystick or an “out of order” sign. Soon I could no longer find a Robotron game and was forced to turn my attention to the newer, splashier games which took a dollar to play.

My fascination with Robotron may have faded with time, but my dream of having my own arcade never did. Last year, I started my own game room with the help of a clean, 1989 Mercury Sable. Yep, you read that right. I came into possession of the Sable and realized I didn’t need the car. A friend of mine, Steve, needed another car so he offered to trade a Gottlieb Sinbad pinball machine and a Galaxian cocktail to me for the ride. I immediately took the deal and thanked my lucky stars that I was on my way to my own game room.

I’d never played Sinbad before, but I really wanted the Galaxian cocktail which had been moments away from being mine several years prior. At that time, Steve and I had gone to the local St. Vincent de Paul’s As-Is store to look for some old video game cartridges. As we approached the store, we found the Galaxian machine sitting outside and covered in a few inches of snow. It was missing the display art, the glass tabletop and had over-sprayed black paint on the woodwork. Steve walked immediately in and paid the asking price of five dollars for the game. You read that one right, too. We took the game back to Steve’s house, warmed it up, plugged it in, and it worked perfect. I was obviously jealous of Steve’s good fortune.

So when Steve offered the Galaxian along with the Sinbad I jumped at the opportunity. He had never put any time into restoring the cocktail machine, so I had my work cut out. I took a week of vacation and spent countless hours cleaning up the machine, removing the overspray, and touching up the painted areas. I ordered replacement glass along with reproduction artwork to bring the game up to its former glory. When I finally got the machine assembled it was beautiful.

In less than a year, this one trade has grown into a game room collection of three pinball machines and five video games. The other pinball machines are Bally’s Lost World and Midway’s Time Machine while the other video games are Double Dragon (also useful as a Jamma machine), Night Driver, Baby Pac-man, Lost Tomb and Mad Planets. My friend Steve handles all the technical aspects of repairs while I focus on the cosmetic and external repairs. We’ve spent numerous hours getting the other machines into game room shape, but it is still the Galaxian that I hold dearest to my heart.

The game room has become a destination for many of my friends and family. Countless nights of fun have been spent teaching the younger visitors about vintage games and classic ’80s songs which is the only music allowed in the game room. I did learn one very important rule with pinball machines and video games. Space is at a premium. My small basement is crowded with the current games while in my garage is a Kiss pinball machine that my friend and I are starting to restore. When that’s finished, I won’t have room for it in the basement and will be forced to buy a bigger house or put it in the living room. I think it would make a great conversation piece.

My childhood dream of having my own arcade has materialized, but I won’t stop tweaking the game room to make it better and more attractive. I’ll continue to add different games to my private stock with the hopes of someday having a Robotron for myself and a Red Baron for my father.

So that’s the original piece. Looking back on it now, I feel bad that I didn’t mention my daughter. Sarah was twelve and would run home from school to help Steve and me. It’s a sweet memory of her at that age and one I’m forever grateful for.

As with many things, times change, and the home arcade quickly lost its luster. After a bit, friends and family didn’t stop by to play the games. And why would they? There were newer and better home systems to play. The Nintendo 64 and PlayStation were out at that time, and these massive stand-ups weren’t close to the excitement.

Eventually, no one played them—not even me. That’s when I knew it was time to sell the machines, and that’s a story for another day.

Before I sold the machines, though, I created a fan site—The Arcade Experience—to celebrate that period of working on the games. Unfortunately, it went by the wayside as significant life changes cause us to lose certain things. Anyway, I’ve now recreated it on this website to pay homage to my friend. I hope you’ll understand and maybe even visit it here.