The Toronto Pinball and Gameroom Show should really call their show Flipper Con. But then, maybe people would think it was a Thalidomide convention. Which wouldn’t be right at all. Though I wouldn’t have been surprised if there had been such a show in one of the pavilions next door. The International Centre is a kind of creepy labyrinth made of corrugated metal, dusty asphalt and misery.
Inside pavilion 4a though, was the antithesis of misery. Inside this makeshift cathedral was the glorious, blinking, chiming, flashing Xanadu that is pinball.
Like any true nerd-dom, pinball surpasses mere diversion and entertainment and becomes a religion. Mandi and I mingled with the flock, the laymen, the devout and the Papacy of the Church of the Silver Ball. Some, like us, were there to decide if this was a faith suited to our lifestyles. Others were there to learn how to better suit there lifestyles to the higher calling of the gleaming orb.
After three and half hours of solid play, I left with strained forearms and frazzled synapses. If I’d sinned at all this week, my penance was paid.
Though there were many Williams games at TPAGS, there sadly wasn’t any Funhouse. In my top three favourite pinball games, if not number one outright. That Rudy creep can sure talk up a storm.