Corrigan’s Corner: My WrestleMania 33 Journal

Wrestledelphia editor John Corrigan spent the week in Orlando, Florida for WWE WrestleMania 33. Corrigan writes about what he did each day during the biggest week in professional wrestling.

Wednesday, March 29:

After housing down some crab fries at the Chickie and Pete’s inside Philadelphia International Airport, I walk out and see Wonderful Willie at the gate. Wrestling’s pioneer journalist greeted my friends and me with pomp and circumstance, and we all discussed our plans for the upcoming weekend. As Mr. Apter regaled us with tales of wooing Mae Young back in the day, Emily from CZW Dojo Wars walked by and introduced herself. It was a meeting of wrestling’s future and past, and the perfect kickoff to a magical week.

Thursday, March 30:

Per tradition, my dear friend Slap booked the living arrangements, outdoing himself with a beautiful house for us to rent for an extremely low price. It has a pool, hot tub, foosball table and pool table. I contributed a bushel of bananas.

We went to Epcot, not for the shitty rides, but for the great taste of alcohol. You see, there are 11 countries to visit and it’s your job to drink something of cultural significance at each one. I started with a margarita in Mexico, followed by Carlsberg in Norway, warm piss in China, Schofferhoffer Grapefruit beer in Germany, a limoncello shot in Italy, plum wine in Japan, Frozen Elephant in Morocco, chardonnay in France, a Guinness shandy in the U.K., I forget in Canada and Cena fans’ tears in America.

Speaking of which, I saw many wrestling shirts, John Cena’s and New Day’s and Chris Jericho’s popping up the most.

Sergio, that sneaky ginny bastard, almost made me knock out a little girl.

Friday, March 31:

We found the hotel WWE is staying at, but it’s impossible to see the stars due to a variety of reasons. The Hall of Fame ran over an hour late, there is only valet parking and my friend Quinn is shitting his pants in the backseat. Don’t feed Quinn queso.

So we fed him chocolate wings at the Chocolate Emporium in Universal Studios. He kept his flatulence to a minimum, but couldn’t hold in his laughter as Slap ordered shit that wasn’t even on the menu.

Saturday, April 1:

We’ve pretty much wrecked the house with beer ball, pong, banana tossing and a bunch of other homoerotic games suggested by Slap.

A drunken six-man tag broke out with some tremendous double team maneuvers, capped off by Murr being tossed over a couch. HUGE high spot and thunderous pop. Kid takes good bumps.

Planet Hollywood sucks.

Sunday, April 2:

My favorite part of WrestleMania is the tailgating. Fans from all over the world flock congregate with BO and booze, wearing their favorite wrasslin’ shirts and costumes, holding signs and hands and phones, all living in the moment while trying to capture it for later.

Roosh and I crashed a Sam Roberts live shot for the preshow. He posed for pics with everybody afterward and was a genuinely cool dude.

Our seats were not cool. Rows as high as us sat on bleachers – no back support for seven hours. For somebody with scoliosis and a herniated disk, this was no Bueno. I stood a lot to alleviate the pain, and make sure Alexa Bliss could hear me profess my love. Although the posts blocked our view of half the ring, we had a beautiful view of the mesmerizing Titantron and the dazzling fireworks.

While perusing for water (it was sweltering before nightfall,) I saw four Secret Service style agents walking by me with an enchanting woman in between. “Lita,” I starstruckingly asked, half to myself, but definitely out loud, and the WWE Hall of Famer replied, “Hey.”

I also spotted Coach, either Macaulay Culkin or Seth Green, and Chris Nowinski.

For my live review of WrestleMania 33, check out Planeta Wrestling. For Wrestledelphia, here are the reactions of my friends:

Miles (stereotypical internet wrestling fan, calls them “workers,” usually underwhelmed, only redeeming quality is being a Jack Swagger diehard):

“It was okay. They should really stop kicking out of finishers, though.”

Roosh (Miles’ older brother, loves Nakamura and Zayn and all the other internet geeks’ favorites, pays for the WWE Network and lets us all share so he’s actually a good person, though):

“Eh.”

Quinn (This was his first time attending a wrestling show, only remembers Bobby Lashley from his childhood):

“I had a good time. Shane McMahon gets a lot of air for an older guy. Undertaker was cool. So was Goldberg’s match.”

Mur (Doesn’t particularly enjoy wrestling, but hates his job and family and loves drinking outside of Philly):

“I liked it. I came for Pitbull.”

Buc (Pretends to like wrestling so I’ll keep him around, foolishly thought Orton vs. Wyatt would be awesome, did buy a Ric Flair shirt so deep down he means well):

“Maryse used to wrestle?”

Slap (A casual fan who watches when we all hang out and enjoys it except for those nasty fireworks rupturing his fragile eardrums):

“Midnight? It’s over at midnight?? Are you fucking kidding me!?”

Monday, April 3:

Despite being seven 25-year-old single dudes, we’re going to Magic Kingdom. I haven’t been since I was 8 years old, and didn’t enjoy it then aside from Space Mountain. Buc tells me don’t worry, there’s a place to drink called Gastro’s Pub. Sounds good.

These lines are long and the sun is baking. Could use a cold one right now.

Whew, that Carousel of Progress is a doozy! Can’t wait for that beer.

It’s gotta be 5 o’clock somewhere, right Buzz?

As soon as I shed this fried skin off my back, I’m gonna grab Quinn and head to this Pub.

Hmm, that’s odd. Slap knows everything about Disney, but he’s never heard of Gastro’s Pub. Oh well, Buc wouldn’t steer me wrong.

So it’s called Gaston’s Tavern. No biggy, slip of the tongue by ol’ Buc. Pumped for this ice cold beer.

Dry…park? The only dry park in Disney World?? NO BOOZE!?

Excuse me, officer. Yes, hello, I just wanted to mention I found a dead body under Dumbo’s left ass cheek.

Tuesday, April 4:

Universal Studios > Disney World. Better rides, better characters, better park design. About five people stopped me throughout the day to chant “Suplex City.” These are great people.

Top 3 rides of the week: Dragon Challenge in Harry Potter World…Hulk…Space Mountain

Wednesday, April 3:

As I finish up my notes, a little boy in a Cena shirt clutching a WWE ring pillow sits across from me on the flight. He’s disappointed that WrestleMania is over, but he looks up and sees my New Day shirt. He smiles. He likes the New Day. He wishes they never lost the Tag Team Titles.