No Country for Old Arcades: Keystone II
With a playing environment this phenomenal, there's little to question why people sign up a week in advance to come and play.
It's barely 30 degrees out on this cold night in San Jose, and I'm outside listening to Keystone II's owner, Albert, dictate the manifesto of his establishment. The same storm that has been pelting the Bay Area all week is bearing down on us and we're barely making an effort to hide beneath the tarp outside of his arcade. Keystone would typically be closed on a day like this, but the owner is in high spirits. I've got about six layers of clothing on to protect against the cold; he has a bottle of whiskey. My search to uncover the last great arcades in America has already taken me to a strange place on only my second trip.
"For the record," he tells me, pointing his bottle with casual bravado, "I wouldn't really consider us an arcade. It's much more like a club." He has a good point. Keystone II isn't an arcade. It's Albert's home. It's his backyard that we're standing in. The difference between his home and ours is that it plays host to a whole lot of arcade machines and the most serious, competitive fighting environment you'll find anywhere on the West Coast.
Everyone who is anyone knows about Keystone II, yet it remains a mystery to those outside. As an invite-only establishment, it often draws comparisons to the fictional organization seen and read as Fight Club. Ironically, Albert has never seen nor read it.
As a hardcore gamer all of his life, Albert has always dreamt of opening up his own arcade. Having moved into his current home about two years ago, he found himself with a lot of extra space; the oversized shed in back was the perfect location to hold his then small collection of arcade units. Once he let friends over to check out his setup, it was quickly established as the new place to be. Only to be opened on Friday nights, Keystone II was named in honor of a legendary San Jose arcade that focused on high quality maintenance and featured some of the fiercest competition found in the Bay Area. All qualities that form the very foundation of what Keystone is all about, with an added dose of brotherhood.
"A lot of these guys have been my friends forever," Albert says about the crowd of 30 that have gathered tonight, "and whenever someone comes from out of town to this place, we welcome them." The pride he has in his extended family radiates from his being and he has every right to feel that pride. I walked in to Keystone II as a stranger both to him and half of the players in his home, but it's impossible to feel like one for long within this crowd--and not only because the extremely cramped environment has you swimming through your fellow mates to take your turn in Street Fighter III: 3rd Strike, Capcom VS SNK 2, or one of the other fighters currently on at Keystone. With a playing environment this phenomenal, there's little to question why people sign up a week in advance to come and play.
The preregistration process to get into Keystone became necessary once word began to spread. "I used to get crowds of like, 15 dudes rolling up at a time, and I used to accommodate them and allow it," explains Albert. "But before I knew it, that crowd swelled and they wouldn't even say hello to me, you know? They would just roll up like they owned the place, so that's why I had to start clamping down."
Hero of the hardcore, enemy of the state, Albert is the man behind Keystone II.
Even with smaller Japanese cabinets, Keystone II is beyond cramped.
The regulars include players from all over California and some from as far away as Texas. Take a glance around the room at any given time and you’re sure to spot multiple champions and true, dedicated masters of their craft. One such player is Ricky Ortiz, whose attitude on competition epitomizes everything that Keystone II is about.
“I’d rather get last place than second,” quips Ortiz with a laugh. “Seriously though. The money doesn’t even matter to me. I just want to win. I just want the title.” Albert flicks me in the arm and glows with a sense of pride rarely seen outside of Little League fathers.
“You see? These are Keystone players.”
Albert later takes me inside, where a very special event in Keystone II history is taking place: The games have finally entered the house. In his living room sits a custom-built arcade setup for two that is hooked up to a 60" HDTV sporting Tekken 5: Dark Resurrection on the PlayStation 3. World-renowned Tekken player Bronson Tran is breaking in the newly constructed unit when a new challenger appears. It’s Albert's wife, and she's none to happy about the noise. She had been trying to sleep this whole time.
This moment provides me with an opportunity to ask her a question I've been dying to have answered all night: What is her take on all of this? She just smiles and laughs it off. "I'm fine with it," she tells me, "It keeps him out of trouble."
"My wife really loves me," says an appreciative Albert. "She's really understanding about all of this," Keystone II operates on a donation system and everyone is more than willing to pitch in. While most of the cash goes to maintaining the machines, the rest goes to his wife for being sweet enough to put up with it. Before we return to his arcade, I ask what she meant by keeping him out of trouble. Albert just gives me a sly smile and says, "You don't want to know. I haven't always been a nice guy,” he tells me with a knowing laugh.
Playing nice is the name of his game now, but for local arcade operators, including those in the Golfland franchise, it's not exactly sunshine and rainbows. Even though Keystone II is only open once a week, the competitive fighting crowd that made up late nights at other arcades has all but vanished. He didn’t set out to gobble up their customers, but that appears to be what is happening. I contacted multiple arcade operators within the area to discuss how a place like Keystone truly affects their business, all of which declined to comment.
"They're all well aware of what I'm doing. I don't think they like it," shrugs Albert. He explains to me why players have started to abandon other arcades in favor of one night of fighting perfection at Keystone. "[Arcades] don't take care of their machines the way that they should. Here, I've got guys playing to frame specifics. We're all very particular about how the controls work ... everything has to be perfect for us, so I keep everything in the best condition possible."
When I ask how long he expects to continue running Keystone II, his answer is swift and incredibly honest. "Until I f---ing die or until I am incapable of doing it anymore.” All his life, Albert wanted to open an arcade. While he’s constantly mulling over the idea of starting an actual business, the specifics of it and the state of the arcade industry have him thinking twice. Until that day comes, Keystone II will continue to be the best place in California where Street Fighter players can get a dose of their two favorite things: drinking and top-tier competition.
Generous donations from its players make Keystone's high quality parts possible.
Pictured: undeniable domination.
Teacher and the student: Bronson Tran teaches "Emphy" the ways of the Iron Fist.
