Pinball players hate the Pinball Hall of Fame

I'm a pinball player, and when I visit Las Vegas, there's one place I make it a priority to visit every single trip, the Pinball Hall of Fame. 

I've written about the Hall of Fame in the past, and I have recommended it countless times.   

I know its story and history, more or less, but let me recount it, as best as I can recall. Don't hold me to having every last detail perfectly accurate. It's late, and I don't feel like trying to research every last tidbit. This is a blog, not the newspaper of record for Clark County.

The Hall of Fame evolved from the massive personal pinball collection of Tim Arnold. Arnold grew up in Minnesota and started making money in the pinball business before he was an adult. He made a lot of money courtesy of the video game industry during the 1980s in Michigan, and purchased a lot of old pinball machines that were gathering dust and taking up space. He was able to retire at a young age and moved to Las Vegas, trucking his massive collection of machines to the desert. 

He started the Hall of Fame by hosting game nights in a pole shed, with local players gathering occasionally. From those game nights came the Hall of Fame, and a dedicated space in a strip mall for more than 100 machines from his massive collection. The first Hall of Fame was a few miles east of the Las Vegas strip on Tropicana Avenue. 

More than 10 years ago the Hall of Fame moved to a standalone building on Tropicana, closer to the strip, but still a couple of miles away. 

The Hall of Fame operates as a nonprofit business, staffed by volunteers. The quarters spent to play pinball pay the bills, and additional revenue is donated to charity. This has been going on for years. 

A few years ago the Hall of Fame announced its most ambitious plan, to set up shop on the Las Vegas strip. Incredibly, profits from the Hall of Fame's operation were set aside for the project, and used to buy a large piece of land on the far south end of the strip, near the "Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas" sign. It's not the heart of the strip, but it's a far more accessible site for tourists on the strip. And the new home of the Hall of Fame is going to blow away its current home, which hosts more than 200 pinball machines. 

The Hall of Fame stopped donating its profits to charity so that it could bankroll the project, both the land acquisition and the construction of a building. Unlike its first two locations, the Hall of Fame will have a brand new building to call home, designed for hosting hundreds of pinball machines and other coin-operated machines of years past. It's going to be an amazing display of American history, ingenuity and creativity. 

The Hall of Fame owns its building on Tropicana Avenue, and an adjacent empty lot. The sale of those will help offset costs for the new project on the strip. But the new project is far more expensive than the value of those parcels, without a doubt. It seemed to me, a guy who doesn't know much about financing a commercial construction project or anything about Las Vegas strip real estate, that the Hall of Fame was rather proactive in financing the project. 

I don't recall the details of the plan when it was first announced, but I thought there was some level of debt that would befinanced in conjunction with this project. The organization is a proven success, however, and I suspect that any debt load wouldn't take decades to pay off. Arnold has stressed that his goal is to resume donating profits to charity.

So, all that said, the project commenced last spring, after the pandemic shuttered Vegas. The project had been in the planning for many months, and the financial pieces were in place, so construction proceeded as planned. 

Here's the well-known wrinkle in all the planning: It was anticipated that the Tropicana Avenue Hall of Fame would continue producing revenue during construction. The pandemic put a big dent in that projected revenue, and recently Arnold initiated a fundraising campaign to make up a deficit of $200,000.  

According to his campaign, the new Hall of Fame is a $10 million project, and will be paid off upon completion. If that's correct, meaning there's no debt to pay off after the fact, my mind is blown. Without a final $200,000, the project won't be completed, he claims. 

The campaign has circulated among pinball players and Vegas nerds for a few weeks now, and as of tonight a little more than $100,000 has been donated. 

I saw yet another mention of the campaign earlier today, with the suggestion the new Hall of Fame might not see completion. I was among the doubters. There's too much invested in the project, and too little to finance, for it to suddenly go belly up.

Some pinball players are happy to donate to the project. Others think the late fundraising campaign is despicable. More than a few. I was a bit surprised. 

I get the vitriol, sort of, regarding Arnold and the Hall of Fame. Folks claim he's a curmudgeon and that he or the volunteers are rude toward visitors who don't follow a very strict, unwritten protocol. This is not new, I've heard this before. Is it a fair representation of the Hall of Fame? Hard for me to say yes, I've been there at least 25 times during the past 13-14 years, and I've never seen it. 

A few people bemoaned the fact that of the Hall of Fame's 200+ machines, there are always machines that are in need of a tune up, if not outright repair. I guess it's easier than I would imagine to maintain dozens of machines that are 40-60 years old, as well as dozens more that are only 20-30 years old, all of which are played 365 days a year. Regardless, the machines do not play as if they're showroom new, so the venue isn't worth supporting, evidently. 

More fascinating than the hatred for a guy whose personal collection is available to play 365 days a year is the financial wizardry and knowledge of many pinball players. Several have concluded that Arnold is a clueless dolt who has mismanaged this project spectacularly. He is $200,000 short, after all, so he must he be an idiot. 

Here I thought a guy who has shepherded the Hall of Fame for more than a decade, banking cash and donating to charity, must be doing something right. If it's a $10 million project, he came up $200,000 short due to the financial hardships of a pandemic that nobody projected, or planned for, two years ago. Foolish me, I'm impressed by what has been accomplished so far. The new building on the strip is nearly complete. 

Other financial geniuses suggested that Arnold foolishly started the project last spring after the pandemic shut down Vegas casinos for more than two months. I don't have a clue what the financial ramifications would have been to suspending the project indefinitely and sitting on the vacant land instead of keeping construction workers employed during the pandemic, but pinball's Mensa members know that Arnold is a financial fool. 

Point of reference: I have seen plenty of construction projects continue, or commence, since the pandemic graced Minnesota with its presence last spring. Why didn't all of those grind to a halt? 

A few financial gurus noted that they have or do run a pinball business, and they don't ask pinball players to donate to their business. Fair enough, although none of them mentioned running their business as a nonprofit or noted how many thousands of dollars they have donated to charity.

If there's anything I question, it's the need to raise $200,000 from the pinball community. Some pinheads wondered why there isn't some sort of corporate sponsorship or other fundraising mechanism to help build an oversized arcade dedicated to preserving the history of pinball. Fair question. 

Arnold isn't interested in amassing debt in order to build a Las Vegas strip Hall of Fame, although it can't be that hard to finance the final $200,000 of construction costs for the project. But it appears he just doesn't want to do it. Building a big new Vegas attraction without a huge debt to pay off? How un-American! 

One way or another, we'll have a new Hall of Fame in Vegas, on the strip, and likely before my next visit to Vegas.

It will attract thousands of tourists per week, if we ever get past the pandemic. Most of those tourists will go home with a smile on their face, having relived their youth or experienced something new, something they never imagined. 

And yet half the pinball community, if Facebook discussions are to be believed, absolutely despise the place.

Pinball: The best bet in Vegas

Slot machine players are as superstitious as they come.

Anybody who plays the slots frequently will eventually determine which machine is lucky, which game is the best for bonus payouts and which machine or game never pays anything.

I've never been much of a slot machine player. Even with fancy bonus games and giant video boards that turn a slot machine into a miniature video game, I'm just not that interested.

My favorite machines to play in Vegas still take quarters, and they rarely pay anything back. But dollar for dollar, the best entertainment value I find in Las Vegas is a pinball machine, and I can find plenty of them in Las Vegas at the Pinball Hall of Fame.

I learned about the HOF the same way many others have, through an article extolling the jaw-dropping sight of dozens of pinball machines, ready to play, in one place. I don't remember where I saw the article, but it was prior to January 2007. Since that time there have been countless articles, blog posts and tips from me, and others, to check out the best bet in Vegas.

I was a typical '80s kid. When video games exploded, I was hooked. Sure, I spent money on comic books, baseball cards and candy, but plenty of my dollars went toward Pac-Man, Donkey Kong and the games that followed.

I didn't play a lot of pinball during my youth, but for some reason I was drawn to one of a handful of pinball machines at the mall arcade in the early to mid-80s: "Space Shuttle." That was the only pinball game that I'd play with any regularity.

Until college. I dabbled with a game at the video store in downtown River Falls, Wisconsin, during the late 1980s. I can't definitively say what the game was, but I'm pretty sure it was "High Speed." There was a modest fascination circa 1992-93 with "Cue Ball Wizard." It's a fun game, and was in a local bar that I'd stop in at during my final year of college.

My last dabbling with a specific pinball machine was circa 1994. As a young college graduate who commuted between Small Town, Wisconsin, and the Minneapolis suburbs every weekend, I'd stop at a truck stop along the freeway, which had a game room. I found "Tee'd Off" there, and I was hooked. So much so that nearly 20 years later I'd buy one of those machines.

I played my share of video games throughout my life, and never lost my love for those '80s classics. When I was in St. Louis in 1994 I visited some sort of arcade museum that had playable video games from the '80s. It was the most amazing thing I had ever seen. Little did I know that 20 years later we'd be seeing "barcades" paying homage to those same machines.

I enjoyed the sometimes simple home video games of the '80s and '90s as well. I'm not a modern video game player. I haven't bought a home video game system in more than 20 years, and I don't anticipate doing so in the next 20 years. My old systems have been sitting in a storage bin for years. I just don't have the time to enjoy them, especially since I spend too much time online obsessing about Vegas.

In 2007 I had no intention of becoming a devotee of pinball, but my natural curiosity for arcade machines of yesteryear changed my life during a January trip to Vegas.

I didn't typically rent a car back in those days, but I needed one for a portion of  that trip. Yes, needed it. (I suppose I could have paid for cabs to get where I needed to go, but I probably would have spent as much on cab fares as I did on the rental car. (Long story for another blog post.)

Since I had the rental car, I made a point to find my way to the first home of the HOF, since I had read about it recently and was naturally curious to see it for myself. I wasn't a huge pinball fan at the time, but that all changed when I stepped into that strip mall arcade and found 100 or more pinball machines crammed inside, along with a smattering of vintage video games. I didn't have a ton of time to spare that day, maybe 90 minutes, but playing pinball games from multiple eras, all at one place, was incredible. I don't exactly know why, but I was hooked.

Since then, every trip to Vegas has included a visit to the HOF, if not more than one. I play some of my old favorites, including "Tee'd Off," which is playable in my basement right now. And I play games I've rarely, if ever, plugged quarters into.

Yeah, I can find pinball machines all over the Minneapolis area, and I'll play pinball locally on a regular basis, but there's nothing like the HOF. You not only get a healthy variety of machines from different eras, you get a chance to play games that are rather rare and hard to find elsewhere around the country, even with online maps that tell you what bars and arcades have machines in your area.

Beyond the 200+ pinball machines in the HOF today, there are a couple dozen classic video games, and a variety of odd, quirky machines that you probably never knew existed. Some of these old gaming machines, such as an electro-mechanical poker machine, are simple, yet amazing to play. That quirky poker machine is from the '50s. It doesn't have a screen or a computer inside of it, and yet it knows how to assess the poker hand you've made from a bunch of bouncing balls that fall into the holes of the playfield. Simple, yet fun.

But yeah, the pinball machines are the primary reason I'm there.

So why is it I have this late-in-life fascination with pinball? I'm not entirely sure, but I have a pretty good idea.

I've always loved video games, and pinball is a similar concept. You're using skill to succeed at a game. A friend I met a couple of years after that 2007 Vegas trip, who owns several pinball machines, did a nice job of explaining the appeal of pinball to me. He noted that unlike a video game, where your game is bound by the limits of a programmed environment, there's a physical element to pinball that can't be programmed. Yes, the targets and playfield are designed, and there are rules to the game, but all the skill in the world can't overcome the fact that within the playfield of a pinball machine, you can make the same shot 99 times in a row, yet that 100th shot might not roll the same way, even when you think you'd hit the shot the exact same way.

That's not to say the game is random, but it definitely has an element to it that's not subjected to computer programming. Couple that with challenging shots, rule sets that provide bonuses, such as multi-ball play, to the game, colorful graphics and innovative designs elements, and suddenly you have a game that's far more compelling than you realized.

Because I play a mix of pinball machines I'm good at, and games I'm not, I will spend several dollars per visit. But I typically spend less than $10 during a two-hour visit to the HOF. Other than people watching, name a better source of entertainment that costs less than $5/hour in Vegas.

There's no jackpots to be won at the HOF, but I come away a winner every time I visit. For my money, it's the best bet in Vegas.

So what does it really mean for pinheads? Is the Pinball Hall of Fame temporarily closing?

PINHEAD: A pinball enthusiast. Not to be confused with a certain, hell-raising pinhead.

Thanks, Mental Floss, for your clarity on the matter.

An otherwise slow news day in Vegas started with news that the Pinball Hall of Fame, a Vegas attraction that has been going strong for more than a decade, is moving to the Vegas Strip.

I'm a pinhead. I played such games occasionally throughout my life, but it was the Pinball Hall of Fame that light my fire in January 2007. More about that another day.

I've said it many, many times. There's only one thing on my must-do list whenever I'm in Vegas, and that's visit the Pinball Hall of Fame. I may make it to Ellis Island every trip, but if I had to choose only one of the two, pinball wins. Every time.

The HOF is the brainchild of Tim Arnold, a Minnesota native (if I have his story straight) who got into the amusement device business as a teenager, made a pretty penny during the video game revolution of the 1980s, amassed a huge collection of unwanted pinball machines and retired at a relatively young age to Vegas, shipping hundreds of machines from Michigan to Nevada.

He started an informal version of the HOF in a pole shed, or something of that nature, and eventually opened an arcade, composed of primarily pinball, but a smattering of video games, as well. That first HOF location was further east of the building where his arcade resides today.

With plenty of machines still in a warehouse, he moved closer to the Vegas strip circa 2009. His new home was perhaps twice the size. It wasn't fancy, it wasn't luxurious, but it has done the job.

Today's news came via a posting at a pinball fan website, Pinside. It looked to have been posted late Sunday night, and told a long, sometimes confusing story of how the HOF is slated to move to the Vegas strip, across the street from Mandalay Bay. The site, purchased for more than $4 million, was once home to a modest hotel which has been gone for about 18 years, by all indications. The lot has been undeveloped ever since.

As I did my part to help spread the news to the masses, there was confusion about the immediate future of the HOF.

My theory is that in his announcement, Tim attempted a little misdirection. This is how he started a discussion thread on the Pinside forums: " I am saddened today to announce that our current location on Tropicana will be closing as soon as we can wind up our affairs.....AND MOVE TO OUR NEW LOCATION ON THE STRIP!"

He titled the thread "Pinball Hall of Fame to close." So everyone reading the post was expecting the worst.

And if Tim was closing the HOF, it wouldn't be a total surprise.

The HOF operates as a nonprofit, and runs on volunteer labor. Volunteers watch over the arcade while it is in operation while Tim works to repair machines. There are always machines in need of a repair. With approximately 200 machines on the floor, there's no way to keep them all operational. And from what I understand, other volunteers visit the HOF occasionally to assist with maintenance. I was once told a guy from Canada was visiting for two weeks and volunteering to assist with maintenance.

The place thrives thanks to the volunteers, with Tim steering the ship. He's gotta be in his 60s by this point, and while there's no reason to suspect he's going to give it up any time soon, people have wondered what would happen should be no longer be willing or able to oversee the maintenance and operation of the arcade.

So yeah, it was entirely possible Tim was announcing he was going to shut it down.

Instead the plan is to build a new arcade on the south end of the strip, an arcade that should at least double the capacity of the current location, and provide better space and amenities for visitors. There are financial pieces that need to be in place before all is said and done, but the wheels are in motion. You can read the details, all of them, for yourself here: http://bit.ly/pinballHOF

Because of Tim's announcement that the current location will close as soon as the HOF winds up its affairs, and the title of his post, there's a belief by some that the current facility will close in the near future and the machines will sit idle until the day comes, if it comes, that an elaborate new building is built upon the strip.

I doubt that, given what Tim wrote in his explanation.

The HOF is a nonprofit entity, and there are pictures and newspaper articles taped up around the arcade noting significant contributions to charity over the years. We're talking six-figure contributions. That's a lot of quarters.

I have no idea where the cash came from, but the HOF had about $3.6 million in reserves, according to Tim. In order to buy a strip parcel for $4.6 million, the HOF has taken on $1 million in debt. For that reason, "We will stop almost all our charitable giving for the near future. This hurts me personally a LOT as that is why we started this project."

Why would he have to announce that charitable giving is going to temporarily cease if the current location is going to close in the near future, and income will drop to nothing? Without saying so, Tim seems to be implying that the HOF will become the benefiting charity. Instead of turning over $100,000 to the Salvation Army or Red Cross, the HOF will keep the cash to help pay off its loan.

It would make no sense for the HOF to take on $1 million in debt for a land purchase and then cut off its income source on Tropicana Avenue for an indefinite period of time.

More indication that the HOF isn't closing its Tropicana doors: The organization owns that property, and isn't planning to sell it until the new arcade is open on the strip. Tim explains that the HOF owns its current site, and an adjacent, empty parcel where some sort of building once sat. (You can see faint traces of it.) Building a larger facility three miles from the strip doesn't appeal to Tim, so building anew at the current site is not desirable.

The current properties are valued at about $2.7 million, and Tim explained that the sale of the properties would reduce the construction costs of the new arcade, which he projects will cost between $3 and $4 million. But the properties won't be sold until the new arcade is open on the strip.

And why is that? Because the Tropicana arcade will continue to generate revenue until it's time to move the machines to Las Vegas Boulevard. If the Tropicana arcade is closing soon, there would be no reason to hold onto the properties until the day the new arcade is up and running. It would be far less expensive to warehouse the silent machines and sell the property prior to the bill comping due for the new arcade's construction.

That's reason enough for me to conclude the Tropicana arcade is not closing. Tim's posting concludes with one final statement that supports my conclusion.

To ramp up funding for the new arcade, the HOF will be selling memberships that will provide benefits, now and when the new building is complete. Basically, the organization is looking for support beyond the quarters that are dropped in its machines, something it hasn't ever done before. Tim outlines membership levels and benefits and notes that, "We will also be selling memberships live in the museum via a special vending machine."

Now why would you sell memberships via a vending machine at your arcade if you're planning to close the arcade in the near future? You wouldn't.

I wouldn't be shocked if the HOF temporarily closes for a week or two if and when the time comes for moving the machines to the strip. Although it's possible they'll keep one of the locations open during the transition. Either way, I don't expect the machines on Tropicana Avenue to go silent any time soon, if at all.

There's no timetable for the project, although Tim suggests that a new arcade is more than a year away. My educated guess: We won't see a new arcade open for business for two full years, at the earliest. And if I'm correct, you'll continue to have daily access to pinball at the Tropicana arcade well into 2020.

There's no need to go on tilt if your next Vegas trip isn't until 2019.

Goodbye Riviera

I don't have a lot of great memories of the Riviera, or a lot of insight into how the iconic strip property evolved, and devolved, over the decades, but I do have a few memories of my time there.

My first trip to Vegas was in January 1997. I was on a charter package, and they were selling show tickets during the flight. My buddy and I bought two tickets to "Crazy Girls." It sounded like a lot of fun for a couple of 20-something guys. 

I don't remember much about the show all these years later, but I do remember that I wasn't blown away by the craziness, or the number of girls dancing up a storm. Was it topless? Hell if I remember. It was a small cast, that danced and did routines to music. It didn't leave me wanting to come back for more. 

Back in the days when there was pedestrian traffic at the north end of the strip, the Riviera had an area, almost separate from the casino if I recall correctly, for nickel slots and other low-rolling gamblers. It seemed to be a busy place, and it had a concession stand with cheap eats. I'm pretty sure the quality of the eats was in line with the price, but it seemed to be a good draw. I can't figure out why that wasn't worth maintaining during the Riv's declining years. 

When poker became all the rage about a decade ago there was a "poker room" in every casino. I played in a weekday morning tournament at the Riv several years ago. It drew but a few tables of players, at the most. I think it was 2007. It wasn't a bad draw for a weekday morning in January, all things considered. I didn't win any money. I might have foolishly folded a hand I should have called with. 

I stayed for two nights at the Riv about five years ago. I was planning a trip to Vegas and had two nights booked at Orleans. I wasn't sure where I was staying the rest of my trip. I ended up staying a third night at Orleans and then spending my final two nights at the Riv because I had learned of some online promotion offering two free nights, simply by signing up for them via the Riv's website. It was that simple. I booked those two nights about two weeks before my trip. That worked out nicely. 

My room wasn't bad, but it did show signs of its age. I don't remember what tower I was in, and I didn't ask for any special accommodations. Based upon that stay, I wasn't anxious to pay for a room at the Riv again any time soon, and I wasn't going to be comped a room by them, I was certain. I don't think I ended up gambling in their casino during my stay. 

I have visited the Riv a few times in recent years solely for the purpose of playing pinball. I loved having 24-hour access to pinball at the Riv, courtesy of the Pinball Hall of Fame. I didn't exploit that benefit enough, unfortunately. 

I ate a meal at the Riv's food court during a solo trip a few years ago. Damn depressing. Eating in a mostly empty food court is a depressing feeling. I wondered how any of those little restaurants made enough to pay the monthly bills. My theory was that their rent was free, as it was the only way the Riv could keep a food court open. 

Speaking of paying the rent, during that hotel stay about five years ago I walked around the back of the property and saw there were a few shops back there. A souvenir stand with sunscreen and other products you might need for an afternoon at the pool, that made sense. There was also a tattoo parlor, which claimed it is "world famous." Sure, they all are. 

Honestly, who seeks out a tattoo parlor in the back of the Riviera? How did they build enough of a business in such a lousy location to pay the rent? The economics of it made no sense to me.

A year or two ago I was in the Riv for an hour prior to heading home. It was a weekday afternoon, I think, but damn, the casino was quiet. There were but a few blackjack tables open, and they had $10 minimums. That seemed rather odd to me. 

The Riv has a lot of history, an old school vibe and once was an entertainment and vacation mecca. In recent years it became a cheap alternative for people who really wanted to stay on the strip or needed relatively easy access to the convention center. 

When word of its impending doom came earlier this year, it shouldn't have been a surprise to anyone who has been inside the joint in recent years. The writing was on the wall.