New York

I honestly don’t know where to begin. I took so many pictures (approximately 1100) so I don’t feel the need to explain everything that pictures would just as easily state for me. But in short, I went to New York (and New Jersey) for Wrestlemania week with the boys and well, it was in a word, cold.

Very cold.

Like my balls are still twitching because frostbite is real.

I made the bold choice of landing at JFK International Airport while being a true Californian: short sleeves, shorts, and short socks. Does anyone know what the wind chill at JFK is in the spring? I’ll give you a hint: cold enough to make me shiver uncontrollably. I made a quick fashion swap when I arrived at our hotel; considerably warmer, we marched through Queens to find an ATM. Sorry, I forgot to mention our trek was through the slums and projects. Yeah, three black men from California unaccustomed to cold and new locales are wandering through Queens. There was only one thing going through my mind at the time: why did I agree to this?

The rest of the trip was a blur. We saw it all…or most of it. Wherein Miami, my one big regret was not taking a picture outside Marlins Park, this year, my one regret is that Wrestlemania was held at an open-air stadium in one of America’s sphincters. Citi Field. Arthur Ashe Stadium. Times Square. A Red Sox game at Yankee Stadium. Yeah, I’ll expand on that one a bit. We went to see a Red Sox game at Yankee Stadium where I decided to go full heel and dress up as a Red Sox fan. I should’ve bought a hat to complete the look. But since I was wearing a jersey and 1936 stirrups, I was able to generate heat, if not the kind that keeps you warm. Then, the Yankees decided to win their first game of the season. By bringing out Mariano Rivera. Jesus, that was bad. We haven’t seen Mariano Rivera in a year, and tonight, it just so happens that the 9th inning is about to commence when the opening riff of Metallica’s “Enter Sandman” blares on the speakers. Yeah, not cool.

But back to the sights…Times Square. Coney Island. Barclays Center. New York Metropolitan Museum of Art. Empire State Building. 30 Rock. Radio City Music Hall. Central Park. Statue of Liberty. 40 Wall Street. Federal Hall. Seeing Bob Backlund go nuts at Madison Square Garden. Great, great evening. 30 Rock. Nintendo World. NBA Store. Izod Center. Wrestlemania XXIX at Metlife Stadium. The show was what it was, save for CM Punk vs. Undertaker. But, it was a pilgrimage. It wasn’t a matter of whether we wanted to, because we needed to. Like a jihad. Or Hajj. Something like that. Wrestlemania is the traveling Holy Land, and where it goes, we go.

As if whether I would live there, the answer is no. I did like the subway system and there’s no way to be bored there. Yet…too cold, too many people, and I didn’t have one remarkable meal in five days. Also, food in Times Square is ridiculous. I’m not paying $10 for a Chipotle burrito. And the lack of Mexican food depressed me. I don’t have many qualms with the trip besides nitpicking over a couple of sites and scheduling, so I’ll consider this trip a success. As far as my favorite Wrestlemania, my favorite one is simple: the next one.

Current Track – Young Guns “Bones”

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