Ahh, a trip to the Jersey shore...the beach, the food, the drinks, the moonlit nights, the cool breezes, the company, and most importantly, the arcades...back in the day, a trip to the shore = gaming bliss. I recently made such a trip, with no less than $30 in quarters. I returned with about $25 in quarters (thanks, Skee ball). What happened?
I have not been blind to the painful decline of the American arcade. Maybe I shouldn't complain at all. Who would've predicted that better-than arcade perfect ports would begin arriving on home consoles? In the Atari 2600 era, it was only a question of how much the game would be compromised. I was perfectly happy to live with a Defender with a disappearing ship, a Berzerk with no voices, Asteroids that only moved vertically. I was less than satisified with weak ports of Donkey Kong, Gyruss, and the poster boy of rotten arcade ports, Pac Man. And I was heartbroken by the "Un-VCS-able" no shows; Tempest, Robotron, and Galaga.
Slowly but surely, console games caught up. Street Fighter 2 (SNES) and Mortal Kombat (Genny) were darn close. Then with the 3DO, Saturn, and PSX, the term "arcade-perfect" started getting tossed around. Then MAME. Then Tekken 3, Crazy Taxi, Soul Caliber, Marvel vs. Capcom 2...in your HOUSE!
So it shouldn't be surprising that arcades fell back on gimmicks. Redemption games! Spend 10 bucks in tokens for a prize worth 50 cents. OK, fair enough, at least there's a little gaming involved, shooting basketballs, slamming crocodiles with mallets, stepping on big white buttons. Fine.
But then there's the not fine part. Then there's the part that I saw on my last trip to the shore. Then there's the gambling games. The Poker games. The slot machines. The cranes. And that one where you throw your quarter into a huge pile of quarters, so that your quarter will become part of the huge pile. That's fun.
I remember the first time I ever played Defender. It was in a restaurant called The Library. It was called The Library because the walls were covered with shelves of used books. You could take one of those books home for nothing, as long as you paid for your over-priced dinner. I wasn't interested in those books. I was interested in that arcade game in the back room. Ineterested because when you died, your ship exploded into a beautiful array of white stars, burning bright, then fading away. I watched others play. I couldn't wait for them to die, so I could see that explosion effect. I begged my dad for quarters. I used them to kill myself so I could see that glorious explosion. He said that machine was stealing money.
It wasn't stealing money, Dad. It was introducing me to beauty... the beauty I hadn't found in Saturday morning cartoons, animals, comic books, songs, or sunsets. I spent the next day of school ignoring the teacher, writing it over and over and over on my shopping bag book covers...Defender Defender Defender Defender.
Today? Sorry Junior, you're not going home with a memorable experience, your initials immortalized, a console port to look forward to, a logo to emblazen on your book covers, something to dream about. You're going home with a spider ring. If you spend enough quarters, you're going home with a Sponge Bob back-scratcher. Talk about stealing money.