Journey with me on a trip back to yesteryear...when bowling alleys were filled with guys named Carmine and Casimir wearing two-pocket short-sleeved shirts with their names written in script on their backs, and the air was heavy with the smell of cheap cigars and spilled beer.
That's the feeling I got at Arsenal, a time warp from the fifties lovingly preserved in Lawrenceville. All that was missing was Laverne and Shirley on the next lane, and perhaps a transistor radio tuned into Bob Prince broadcasting a Pirates game.