Woke up at 0630 on Sunday. Ooh 'eck, it's Wrestlemania day. FINALLY, etc. It's way too early to be awake but since I'm not hungover, and have a ton of photos to edit and blogging to do I'm not that offended. Also gives me a chance to listen to Ric Flair's podcast from Friday since I'm not consuming enough wrestling media and experience as it is.
It also gives me the chance to chat with Helen who is enjoying apparently lovely weather back home. We have cracking weather too, cloudless sunshine and that again. At 0915 or so Ian stirs and claims to have been awake for an hour, which I dispute having heard him snore. We go down for the same plastic and styrofoam breakfast in a room full of other wrestling fans and then come back up.
On TV, I request we put on ESPN because I think there's some Wrestlemania previews on. What actually happens is that choosing ESPN doesn't actually put ESPN on but offers to show us some on-demand wrestling from 1986, which we of course do. Shawn Michaels, rookie of the year, is full of pudgy faced youth and beats Buddakhan (who?). Then Seargent Slaughter seems to have a smaller chin than in later years while fighting The Barbarian, with interference from Bruiser Brody. Lastly a 20 minute match between Jerry 'the King' Lawler vs a pre-Mr Perfect Curt Hennig, who was really pissed off at winning the match through disqualificaton and thereby not taking the championship. Keep up, people.
During all this the Sheraton duo tell us they're in the bar at their hotel, so we go and join them. The cab is quick and quiet, and we're there by 1205 or so. It takes until 1230 to get served a drink. Apparently service was great until we turned up. Beers eventually come, and we manage a second round which includes some extravagant non-beers for Ian and Wooj.
There's loads of pyro, of course.
Sin Cara appears to have sprouted wings.
The ladder match is a spot-fest and fantastic.
The big Booty Os cereal box is entertaining, but comes out way too early and ruins the surprise.
Brock Lesnar is a fucking animal. Beast Incarnate is right.
"HURT HIM, DEAN!"
I'm pretty sure Dean didn't hurt him.
The Undertaker's entrance takes 6 minutes.
Shane jumps off the top of the fucking cell. I mean, you what?
This fire is really fucking hot even from this distance.
FINALLY, the Rock has come back to Dallas!
Big ass light show for The Game, the Cerebral Assassin, the King of Kings, Triple H.
Bringing out Shaquille O'Neal to wrestle "the world's largest athlete", who he is obviously larger than, is fun.
Stone Cold! Stone Cold! Stone Cold!
Texas Rattlesnake shares some of his 6 beers with Mick Foley and Shawn Michaels. Stunning.