THE EXPERIENCE-LED HOSPITALITY PLAYBOOK
Article 02
The Power of Play
Physical play works because it gives people permission to interact. Familiar games lower the barrier, visible action creates reaction and shared participation turns a venue visit into memory.
By Ales Kernjak, AK Works · 11 min read
Co-authored with Zachary Pulman, Zachary Pulman Design Studio

Physical play gives the group a shared focus, turning a simple turn into a social moment. Photo: Electric Shuffle, https://electricshuffle.com/uk/
The Night Starts Before the Rules
You can hear the room before anyone explains the scoring. A shuffleboard puck clips the side and somehow still looks intentional. A bowling ball lands with heroic confidence, until it does not. A dart misses the number it was absolutely aimed at, and the whole group reacts as if national pride has briefly been involved.
This is the value of physical play. Not perfection. Not technical mastery. Not nostalgia wrapped in neon and charged by the hour. The value is that a simple action gives people something to do together. It gives the group a shared focus before conversation has to carry the entire occasion on its back, which is a lot to ask from small talk and a drinks menu.
The game is not the experience. But the right physical game can become the trigger that makes the experience work. It lowers social friction, creates visible reactions and turns a room of individual guests into a participating group.
That is why the return of darts, bowling, shuffleboard, table tennis, mini-golf and arcade-style play matters beyond nostalgia. The strongest venues are not simply bringing old games back. They are using familiar physical rituals to create social energy, guest confidence and memories people can actually describe afterwards.
Why Physical Play Still Works
Physical play has an advantage that many hospitality occasions struggle to create: it gives people an immediate reason to interact. A group does not have to invent the first moment. The game offers it.
This is especially powerful because many social occasions are more fragile than they look. People arrive with different confidence levels, different relationships to one another and different expectations of the night. Some want to compete. Some want to watch. Some want to talk. Some mainly want to be included without being put on display.
A familiar game lowers the barrier. Most people understand taking turns, cheering, missing, trying again and pretending the next attempt was part of a sophisticated learning curve. The rules do not need to be perfect. The invitation needs to be clear.
For hospitality operators, this matters because activity gives shape to the visit. It creates a beginning, a rhythm and a set of shared moments. People can move between playing, watching, ordering, laughing and recovering their dignity. Often in that order.
Physical play works because it makes interaction visible.
The Real Product Is Permission
The deeper value of tactile play is permission. It allows adults to behave with a little more looseness than ordinary social settings often permit. A missed shot becomes funny. A lucky win becomes theatrical. A quiet person can join through a turn rather than a speech. A spectator can participate by reacting, advising, teasing or celebrating.
That matters because hospitality is not only about what guests consume. It is about how they behave while they are there. Physical games give people a low-pressure script. They create action and reaction, but leave enough space for personality, conversation and surprise.
This is why the best social games do not require guests to be good at them. In many cases, being slightly bad is part of the entertainment. The game creates the permission. The group supplies the meaning.
A strong venue understands that distinction. It does not judge the game only by its mechanics. It asks what behaviour the mechanic enables: confidence, movement, laughter, light competition, shared attention, group inclusion and return.
What Tactile Play Actually Does
Tactile play is shaped through physical action, touch, movement and immediate feedback. The guest throws, slides, strikes, stacks, aims, presses or swings, and something happens in the room.
That cause and effect is important. Screens can entertain brilliantly, and later chapters in this series will explore how technology can deepen participation. But physical games do something very specific: they make behaviour public enough for others to respond to. Someone steps forward. Someone watches. Someone misses. Someone celebrates too early. The group now has a story.
The strategic value is not that tactile play is analogue. The value is that it places human action at the centre of the brand experience. It turns the venue from a backdrop into a stage for participation.
Three effects follow. First, participation starts quickly because the action is simple. Second, social energy spreads beyond the active player because others can watch and react. Third, memory strengthens because guests remember what they did together, not only where they sat.

Physical play lowers social friction by giving people a shared focus, an easy way to join in and something visible to react to together.
Nostalgia Is Useful. It Is Not the Product.
Nostalgia can be a powerful doorway. A dartboard, bowling lane, arcade button or table-tennis paddle carries an existing memory of taking turns, caring briefly and trying again. Research has linked nostalgia with social connectedness, which helps explain why familiar activities can feel emotionally useful in group settings [4].
But nostalgia is not the whole proposition. Retro styling without behavioural purpose becomes costume. A checkerboard floor, a neon slogan and a soundtrack from someone’s youth may generate a photograph, but they do not automatically create participation, service rhythm or return visits.
The stronger move is to translate familiarity into a contemporary experience. Keep what helps people understand and join. Remove what creates friction. Rebuild the context through design, hosting, food, drink, music, pacing and tone of voice.
In other words, the goal is not to ask guests to borrow a memory from the past. It is to help them create a new one in the present.
Familiarity earns its place when it reduces uncertainty. Guests should understand quickly what is expected, how exposed they will feel and how easy it is to join without being the most confident person in the room. The most useful references are not the ones that look most nostalgic. They are the ones that make participation feel safe enough to become playful.
This is also where design can overplay its hand. If the setting becomes too precious, guests may admire it rather than use it. The point is not to preserve the game behind glass. It is to let people handle it, misuse it slightly and make it their own.
Design the Behaviour Around the Game
A game becomes a brand experience when the activity, audience, service and story follow the same logic. The name of the game is not enough. Guests need to understand what sort of occasion they have entered, how to participate, how competitive the tone should feel, what role food and drink play and what happens between turns.
That logic should shape the whole journey: discovery, booking, arrival, briefing, play, spectating, ordering, celebration, transition and departure. A weak concept treats these as separate operational tasks. A strong concept makes them feel like one coherent experience.
The brand has a practical role here. It sets the emotional rules. Is the experience irreverent or polished? Familiar or theatrical? Inclusive or expert-led? Fast and high-energy, or slower and more social? Those choices influence staff language, pacing, music, scoring, service and how guests treat one another.
The game creates participation. The brand determines what that participation means.
The Whole Group Is the Real Audience
One of the easiest mistakes in competitive socialising is to design only for the active player. Groups are rarely that tidy. Some guests compete. Some watch. Some order. Some arrive late. Some care about the score. Others mainly care that the evening feels easy.
The experience succeeds when all of those roles feel legitimate. Spectators need sightlines, comfort and something to do. Less confident players need a low-friction route into participation. Food and drink should support the rhythm without constantly interrupting it. Staff need to know when to energise the group and when to step back.
Watching is not a secondary behaviour. It is part of the social energy. The person cheering from the side, laughing at the mistake or ordering the next round may be as important to the experience as the person holding the dart.
The active participant may trigger the booking, but the whole group determines dwell time, advocacy and the likelihood of returning. The strongest concepts are designed for the social unit, not merely the game user.

Duckpin bowling shows how familiar physical play can turn a simple activity into a shared social moment, with players and spectators taking part in the same experience. Photo: Pins Mechanical Co., https://www.pinsbar.com/duckpin-bowling
The Commercial Value of Hands-On Play
The growth of activity-led leisure is well documented. Cushman & Wakefield has written about the rise of competitive-socialising concepts in the United States, while Savills reported a 40 per cent increase in UK supply since 2018 [1][2]. Growth, however, does not guarantee a strong concept.
The commercial value comes from the behaviour the activity supports. A well-chosen game can create a bookable occasion, extend the role of food and drink, support private hire, provide programming opportunities and give a group a reason to return.
Those outcomes are not automatic. A game can also create queues, confusion, dead time and excluded spectators. The operator earns the commercial benefit only when the customer journey and service model convert activity into a coherent occasion.
Restaurant Dive’s comparison of Puttshack and Pinstripes illustrates that different activity-led concepts can place different emphasis on game revenue, food, drink and events [3]. There is no universal mix. The right commercial model follows the intended audience and occasion.
The useful principle is simple: the activity may secure the booking, but the wider brand experience determines the value of the visit.
Programming Turns Novelty Into Ritual
Nostalgia can attract attention once. Programming gives the same activity new reasons to matter.
Leagues, tournaments, date-night formats, team occasions, family sessions, seasonal challenges and quieter midweek offers can turn one physical game into several distinct propositions. Each should be designed around a real audience and occasion, not added to a calendar because Thursday looked lonely.
Return behaviour needs more than repetition. The guest needs a fresh social reason to come back: a different group, a different level of challenge, a new ritual, recognition, progress or belonging.
This is where the brand moves from venue to community. Not because every guest joins a formal club, but because the experience begins to offer continuity. People know what happens there, what role they can play and why another visit would feel different rather than merely repeated.
A Global Behaviour With Local Meaning
Play is universal. Nostalgia is not.
Pub games carry strong cultural familiarity in the UK and parts of Europe. In other markets, karaoke, screen golf, private rooms, arcade rituals or family entertainment may provide the more recognisable social language. Importing the activity without understanding the meaning around it produces a concept that travels physically but not culturally.
This is where international growth requires more than replication. The behaviour may travel more easily than the memory. One market may respond to nostalgia because it lowers the barrier to participation. Another may respond to premium design, privacy, novelty, family relevance, status cues or service quality.
Local adaptation should therefore begin with behaviour: who attends, how groups form, how public or private participation should feel, how families use the venue, what hospitality cues matter and how much instruction guests expect. The visual wrapper comes later. Otherwise, localisation becomes regional wallpaper applied to an unchanged guest journey.
For operators expanding across markets, that distinction is critical. The temptation is to protect the visible concept: the same game, the same graphic language, the same menu logic, the same soundtrack. The more useful discipline is to protect the behavioural intent. If the concept is designed to create easy group participation, each market may need a different route into that feeling.
A format can therefore travel only when its social rules can be understood locally. That may mean more hosting, more privacy, stronger food integration, more premium cues or a softer competitive tone. The mechanic is the starting point. Meaning is local.

Familiar games lower the barrier to participation by making the rules feel recognisable, the action visible and the shared reaction easier to join.
From Memory to Momentum
The return of pub games and nostalgic play does not mean every venue needs a dartboard, shuffleboard table or arcade corner. It means hospitality and leisure brands need to understand what behaviour they are inviting people to join.
Tactile play is powerful because it is immediate. It gives people a shared action, makes emotion visible and turns the venue from a backdrop into a stage for participation.
Used lazily, nostalgia becomes theme. Used strategically, it lowers social friction, creates a clearer customer journey and gives the brand an experience people can remember through what they did together.
The old games still work. The smarter question is what new social and commercial role the brand can build around them.
Nostalgia may open the door. Behaviour creates the value.
Takeaway
Physical play matters because it gives people permission to interact. Familiar games lower the barrier to participation. Physical action creates visible reaction. Imperfection creates laughter. Watching becomes involvement. When the wider experience supports those behaviours through design, hosting, food, drink and rhythm, a simple game becomes a memorable social occasion. Nostalgia can help, but it is not the product. The real value is behavioural: what people do together, how the experience makes that easier and what the group remembers afterwards.
What Comes Next
Article 03, The Digital Playground. It examines how technology can reduce friction, create feedback, personalise participation and extend the brand relationship without replacing the human behaviour that makes the experience worth having. The question is not physical or digital. It is what technology adds to the interaction.
[1] Cushman & Wakefield. From Putt to Pint: Everyone Wins with Competitive Socializing, 27 March 2023.
[2] Savills. Spotlight: UK Leisure 2024, March 2024.
[3] Restaurant Dive. How Puttshack and Pinstripes sustain AUVs over $8M, 24 January 2024.
[4] Wildschut, T., Sedikides, C., Routledge, C., Arndt, J. and Cordaro, F. Nostalgia as a
repository of social connectedness: the role of attachment-related avoidance, Journal of
Personality and Social Psychology, 2010.