Dropping the Gauntlet

The reality I currently face is that the new house we have purchased does not have enough space to house my current collection of arcade games. If you haven’t my collection lately, it looks like this:

(It doesn’t look exactly like that; I told Make Trax and replaced it with Commando, but essentially, it looks like that.) I have three additional cabinets (720, Centipede, and a JAMMA-wired cabinet) sitting in my garage. Susan and I are talking about having a building erected in the backyard of the new house, but until that happens, I simply won’t have room for them at the new place.

My buddy Dean has offered to let me store some of my machines at his place, and that will help. (I’ve actually dropped the ball on this, and need to get it rolling again when I get back home.) Fact is, there are some games that I’d simply like to get rid of, games I either no longer play, or games that at some point someone has said to me in the past, “if you ever plan on getting rid of that particular game, let me know.” That time could be now.

Last week, I sold my Gauntlet II machine to my buddy Robb, who lives in Denver.

In my book Invading Spaces I talked about shipping arcade games. There are two choices, essentially: you can strap one to a pallet and ship it for $250, give or take, or you can call someone like North American Van Lines (NAVL) and have them come pick it up and truck it across country for around $400, give or take. The great thing about NAVL is that there’s no effort involved on anyone’s part. They come to your house, load up the game, drive it across country, and drop it off at the buyer’s front door. Personally I’ve never used the service; out of the 60 or so games I’ve owned, I’ve only paid more than $400 for one of them (720), so I’ve never been able to justify the cost of shipping one.

Here’s how it’s gone so far:

Sunday morning I hit the road for work, but my Dad said he would be able to come over to my house and open the garage door for the movers. The movies said they would be there “between 8am and 5pm” and would give me 30 minutes notice. By coincidence, Susan went home for lunch and the movers called and said they were on their way, so she stayed there to let them in. When the movers showed up, the first thing they did was smash their moving truck into our basketball goal, ripping the rim off the backboard and breaking the Plexiglas. Susan got a claim number from their insurance company, and I’m sure that’ll be another blog-worthy post when all is said and done.

The game is being shipped from my (Rob O’Hara) house, and is going to Robb Sherwin’s house in Denver. The entire time the movers were at our house, they referred to my wife as “Mrs. Sherwin.” Susan thinks in a couple of weeks the game is going to show back up at our house. I think it’ll show up in Denver, based on their handy work with the basketball goal, in pieces. Robb thinks … oh hey Robb, everything’s going to be fine. Don’t worry!

The game could take 2-3 weeks to get to Denver. When it gets there, I will post the exciting conclusion of … dropping the Gauntlet.