The contrast between Anaheim and Boston has always struck me as a parallel between two disparate worlds — those dreary snow-swept streets, boxed in with brick walls and cobblestone, juxtaposed with the sunny bliss of palm trees and strip malls.
I grew up in Santa Clarita, a setting that’s strikingly similar to Anaheim, but the last four years of my life had been spent at Harvard University. The place is a hotspot of brilliance encapsulated in a bleak aura of Gothic architecture and frigid courtyards. For me, my yearly pilgrimage with friends to Blizzcon was always a way of returning to my emotional roots. My sunny SoCal roots. The act of careening through the clouds in a cramped sardine can, traveling across the country despite the arduous class schedules, was always an act of honoring the culture of a company I grew up with.
Blizzcon 2019 was no different. In fact, it was the best Blizzcon I had been to out of all the years, filled to the brim with a sense of community, passion, and friendship. The convention is tied up in my mind with a resplendent array of golden tinsel and glossy wrapping paper. Somehow, it just gets better and better with every following year.
“Holy tamale, we actually made it!”
I looked over at my roommate who had just spoken. We’re both wearing drowsy expressions, a byproduct of the red-eye flight we just took from Boston to LAX. And in that moment, our sleep-starved eyes locked, a glimmer of unadulterated joy kicked into high gear in our minds. It was like being pricked with a coffee-tinged needle. Our mouths quirked into an exaggerated smile and we swept each other up in our arms while screaming like two lunatics near the luggage belts. We really had made it. The annual pilgrimage would soon commence!
We bolted through the bland, never-ending hallways of the airport, a sea of grey-and-white hues flashing past our faces. The Uber loading area, now a sprawling complex of sunbaked concrete at the far edge of the airport, was in sight.
The entirety of the car ride to the Anaheim Convention Center was spent in a frenzy of wild stories and planning. I was the Blizzcon veteran, having been for the last six years, and I had the honor of bestowing years’ worth of knowledge on my roommate who had been dreaming of this moment since freshman year. It felt comical, however, because I still felt nonplussed while flicking through the Blizzcon phone app with him despite the six years’ worth of experience. It was a whirlwind of maps, events, and merchandise. Nonetheless, delving into the app really passed the time during our journey across the car-clogged freeways. We joked, devised plans, and laughed hysterically as our Uber finally pulled into the entrance of the Hilton Hotel.
As if the morning couldn’t get any better, my girlfriend and a whole crowd of friends from high school swarmed me within moments of exiting the Uber. I saw all their bright faces beaming at me, along with my girlfriend — she’s wearing a Murloc onesie at this moment — leaping forward to kiss me. My college roommate, a steadfast friend of mine for four years, met my classmates from high school for the first time. The whole moment — a moment that likely lasted approximately one minute — was brimming with such an unimaginable torrent of sheer rapture. Like, holy heck! I felt the spark of memories flooding together: a link between my childhood and adult-life, a common space to form new friendships, and the celebration of a game company and community we all treasure.
The lobby of the Hilton hotel was, quite literally, stuffed; the whole place was bursting with a vivacious congregation of nerds of every type, shape, and age. Horde and Alliance banners were oscillating in huddles of fans, their voices babbling about patch notes and hidden revelations, forming into a cacophony. A whole slew of bubbling, multi-colored cocktails were being passed around the bar area and guzzled on the spot.
I remember how much joy the sight of the festivities brought me. It was likely an otherworldly sight for my friends, but to me it felt like returning home after an atypically long and strange trip. I’m generally more of an observer than a participant, but in that exact moment I wanted to fling myself directly into all the merrymaking!
The majority of that first day before the convention was a blur, but I have a distinctive memory of all the shenanigans at the Con Before the Storm. We were all hopped up on beer — hahahaha, super punny — and running on very little sleep, but that night in the Hilton Hotel ballroom was a complete blast.
It was an incongruously Baroque-like space, emblazoned with gold-and-crimson curtains and carpeting. The walls and tables were brimming with all matter of artwork, crafts, and props. It was a hazardous place to be for your wallet, and our wallets were likely already trembling in fear at the prospect of our visits to the Blizzcon Store the next day.
The bulk of the Con Before the Storm was a constant deluge of meeting amazing people: Nicole Du Cane and Tim Spencer from Heroes of Fitness, Terran Gregory (the best cinematics in the industry!), Taliesin & Evitel, and so many others. I just wanted to mosey around the whole night and forsake sleep, because I felt like everyone in that room was on such a similar wavelength. I could have likely talked the whole night, with only minor respites for breath.
It was likely around midnight when we were all sort of like, “uh-oh, we should probably sleep at this point.” And so, it was with great reluctance that we zipped off to our separate rooms, our heads overflowing with lucid dreams of all the excitement to come, to try and get some sleep.
The whole morning of the next day was a blur of ecstasy. I remember being on the top of the Hilton Hotel, throwing open the curtains in our room, and seeing that stunning cityscape with California Adventure in the distance. The world was alive and vital, with an unbridled sense of urgency and energy. There were throngs of ant-sized people hurtling around in a sea of shapes and colors before my eyes. I could pick out the boisterous sounds of game-fueled conversations emanating up to our room on a cloud of dry desert air. It was in that moment that I realized all of my friends were awake, too, quickly followed by my exclamation of, “guys, let’s go-go-go-go-go-go!”
We all rushed into one of those rickety elevators at the hotel that, quite honestly, always make you feel like you’re hurtling to your demise. The only thing on our minds was to plummet as quickly as possible into that roiling sea of super-fans at the convention center. I felt like a tour guide, with it being my girlfriend and my roommate’s first times at a Blizzcon, and I didn’t want to miss a single beat.
“Okay, checklist: Starbucks — ginormous cold brew + some kind of edible semi-healthy snack plate + water? — enter through the side security near hotel because we have those nifty portal passes, maneuver to the left side of the convention so we can acquire the quintessential seats in the main hall for the opening ceremony…”
The whole group looked at me in that moment with a slew of quizzical expressions.
“How about we just start with that coffee, eh?” My girlfriend smiled at me.
And with that dosage of no-nonsense wisdom we were off! The crowd enveloped us on all sides, our heads bobbing around in a sea of faces with no end in sight. All of my recollections of those moments outside the convention are blips of sensory memories: the bitter taste of coffee, the feeling of being jostled around in a washing machine of arms and legs, the heat of the morning sun on my neck, the tingling goosebumps from the sound of the Wrath of the Lich King soundtrack blasting over the speakers in the courtyard.
There was so much nerdy goodness bombarding us from every angle.
The crowds were initially overwhelming, but there was also a sort of placid nature to the whole experience. There were people everywhere, yes, but we also weren’t feeling pressured to talk to anyone. We laughed among ourselves and people watched, marveling at the intricate armor of the cosplayers around us, basking in the sun, feeling at home.
And then it was time. The crowds surged forward through the doors like a pressure valve erupted, their bodies mimicking the violent gush of a river. The murmurs of the fans turned into some sort of guttural screech, like the battle cry of an Ogrimmar warband stampeding into an incursion. I truly felt like a member of the Horde, being propelled along with my friends in tow, a cloud of dust left in our wake. We were off, zipping into the foggy, neon-streaked interiors of the main hall!
We spent the next hour dawdling in our seats in the main hall, making idle conversation and munching on convention snacks that certainly weren’t nutritionally dense. The caffeine highs were certainly peaking at this point, but that didn’t matter whatsoever; we were all exuberant to the highest degree — sharing stories, smiling, talking with the legion of rabid fans nearby, all bouncing in their seats while waiting for J. Allen Brack to step out on stage for the first time as the newly appointed president of the company.
“These food prices are astronomical, man!”
“Have you seen the sprawling lines of those restrooms in the corner?”
Those exclamations certainly summarized a lot of things, but the most tangible feeling in the whole room was that undeniable undercurrent of inexorable fan-fueled energy. The static of the crowds was surging through all of us in the front row, anticipation building, our eyes glued to the main stage.
And then those show lights dimmed, the fog effects on the main stage rippling in a kaleidoscopic spectacle of dark-blue-and-white hues, with J. Allen Brack stepping out on the main stage to initiate the festivities. The Horde and Alliance present in the main room ignited their voices into an avalanche of cheers and bombast! In my mind, I could almost picture the screen of a sound-o-meter cracking while trying to record the decibels present in that main stage area.
This was followed by a vacuum effect; all of the sound dissipated at once, the convention hall replete with the faint echoes of shuffling feet and distant coughs. He started his speech. It was solemn in a way we hadn’t quite come to expect from past opening ceremonies, his expression stony-faced and humbled.
“Wow…” my girlfriend spoke in a muted tone. All of my friends were entirely invested in the moment, our whole crew wrapped in a cloud of rumination.
All of his words were softly emphatic. The message was candid and spoken from the heart. It felt like a power moment for everyone in the room as fans. We all knew it was coming, but the way Blizzard Entertainment approached the matter was equal parts professional and genuine, and it really couldn’t have been handled any better. It reassured the fans that this place was a home with a congruous, consolidated layer of trust. Mistakes are an inherent portion of any process or community, and the most imperative part of it all is how those issues are remedied and repaired.
We all came together in those moments as Adventurers of Azeroth, Dwellers of Sanctuary, Heroes of the Nexus, and Members of Overwatch. We felt stronger. I remember feeling so proud in that moment.
And then, BOOM! We launched from that heartfelt moment into the start of the show, immersed into the world of Diablo 4. The cinematic was immaculate. It was gloomy and highly foreboding, filled with dilapidated villages and murky ruins. The whole thing was like a roller coaster, building in tension and speed at every moment, ultimately crescendoing into the ritual sacrifice and the grandiloquent entrance of Lilith herself.
Except, of course, for the fact that the cinematic was inadvertently punctuated by a front-and-center error message about halfway through. The whole crowd groaned at first, but it was soon followed by hysterical laughs and cheers. My roommate, a devout fan of the Diablo franchise, was grinning through the hands he palmed over his face.
“Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy….”
In hindsight, the moment really almost enhanced and augmented the experience. The whole audience laughed in unison, providing levity to an opening ceremony that, up to that point, had been pretty grim and serious.
The rest of the opening ceremony proceeded in a squeaky-clean sequence of reveals and speeches that set the whole room on fire with zest and anticipation for all the Blizzard goodness to come in the future. I laughed, cheered, clapped, and gasped along with the rest of my group for the whole hour of that adventure. There was a reveal for every type of Blizzard gamer, and we all walked away from the blitz of announcements deeply satisfied.
When it was all said and done, my girlfriend looked over at me and said, “I see what you mean about that Blizzard magic.” It really is something truly special. And the day was only just barely starting. We had the whole convention center open to explore at our leisure now!
It always seemed like the convention space was blossoming and swelling with each proceeding year, and that certainly applied this time, too. We all spent so much time looking at the map, gawking at the sheer scale of it all. The whole place was a giant playground for people of every background, a sweeping love letter from Blizzard Entertainment to the fans.
My roommate spoke first with, “how about we try out the Slaughtered Calf Inn or maybe the Hearthstone Tavern?” To which my girlfriend interjected with, “I think that’s your college mindset speaking for you.” We all belly laughed.
Meanwhile, I was feeling deeply pensive, and I ultimately decided on the Blizzcon store. It was a prudent idea to rummage around over there and brave the jam-packed lines first, because you really never know what’s going to sell out. As always, it was a perilous trek for your wallet, and we all spent — AMOUNT UNDISCLOSED — on the ginormous catalog of knickknacks, curiosities, and collectibles.
“I can’t breathe, and my claustrophobia is getting to me, ahhhhhh!” My girlfriend was sort of speaking for all of us by the time we were done with that place. We weren’t super original with our plan to delve into the store first, and it felt like basically every attendee decided to flock to it all at once. The amount of bodies packed into a single room was stifling. But we did it, our quest concluded, and we were walking out of there within an hour with our nifty oversized bags flung over our backs, swaying side-to-side as a battle trophy.
We took a quick detour to the hotel to drop off our dragon’s hoards, the treasure troves neatly tucked into desks and drawers in our separate rooms. And then we meandered down to the main courtyard, lingering around the centerpiece fountain at the front of the convention center, to do absolutely nothing but people watch.
The quiet moments are always my favorite: people-watching, daydreaming, or listening contentedly to the various panel speakers gracing us with their unique viewpoints and challenges. We had a lot of those quiet moments in the courtyard. I remember watching this young boy pose with someone who was cosplaying as Anduin Wrynn, the boy’s parents hastily snapping photos of the moment. His nervousness was palpable, but you could also tell that it was a memory he would relish for years to come. Maybe the next week, upon his return to school, he would gloat to his friends that he got to meet a really cool guy with a giant sword and a lion helmet.
Things like that were happening throughout the two days we spent inside the realm of Blizzcon. I had so many enthralling conversations with fans whose names I’ll likely never be able to recollect, little snapshots of memory that are indelible. A huge swathe of those conversations happened at the Blizzard Arcade. At one point, we struck up a conversation with a group of Mixer streamers at the Slaughtered Calf Inn, and after talking for a while we all sort of amalgamated into a group and proceeded to battle together at the Heroes of the Storm demo area. I think the team really liked us there, because by the end of the night our whole crew had a stockpile of those Deathwing-emblazoned “arcade” coins.
I reveled in the atmosphere of the new arcade area. It was a really idyllic environment where you could just stroll around in a dreamy haze. The vibrant, rainbow-tinged sign at the front of the space reading “Blizzard Arcade” felt like it was welcoming you with open arms. It was an area with numerous treasures to unearth, like the museum section where you could wade through physical exhibits of Blizzard’s expansive and eccentric history. I was also enthused with the fact that the shortest lines of all of Blizzcon resided in this area. I zipped around all over the place while playing and replaying the various demos to my heart’s content.
Whether exploring the various taverns around the halls to ingest themed brews like the Murky IPA or Diablo Blood Sacrifice, dawdling in the demo lines, or collapsing in a nearby chair due to exhaustion, every moment was blissful.
It’s important to always realize that you’re never alone at Blizzcon. I was there with my girlfriend and friends, yes, but the whole place is this sort of all-inclusive community where you can meld into another group of people with ease if desired.
“It seems like everyone here is so easygoing.”
I smiled at my girlfriend after she said that, while we were sitting alone together at the centerpiece fountain, its misty sprays jetting into the air with synchronized wavelets, a small rainbow materializing in the droplets.
“Yeah, I know….” I said back to her.
We’re waiting outside for the annual March of the Murlocs to commence. And, of course, we’re both embellished with our gaudy murloc onesies. Looking around, it was a sea of undulating flippers, fins, bulging eyes, and ocean gargle-screeches. We were all united in this eccentric group of fans, no one alone, all of us happy-go-lucky and just wanting to have a really great time. It was such a good feeling.
The March of the Murlocs was an organized affair this year, emblazoned onto the official schedule of the app, so the amount of people was staggering. We paraded around the whole convention center like an absolute force of nature, our zany costumes wobbling around as our feet tapped the floors in unison. It felt like we were gliding forward faster and faster as our stampede of fishy onesies congealed into a single blob of salty swiftness. People were cheering for us on all sides as we maneuvered the crowded spaces of the halls. My girlfriend and I were laughing harder than we had the entire day.
And that moment in time, the feeling of moving through spaces quickly, was also redolent of the convention as a whole. Because before we knew it, somehow, quite inexplicably, we had already arrived at the last few hours of the final day.
The final nights of any Blizzcon are always so tranquil and laid-back. There’s a certain magic in the air, because you’re not rushing to be anywhere, with most of the main attractions closed down and the panels concluded for the weekend. For us, that final night was just a scattering of miniscule moments of immense value. We lingered at the Hearthstone Tavern for a while with a mellifluous melody of bard notes drifting around our ears. We sipped our beers casually while soaking in the atmosphere of all the various climactic esport championships. We drifted around the Darkmoon Faire, rejoicing in the luminosity of the purple carnival lights, leafing through the books and personal collections on display. We took one final gander at the Blizzcon auction area, teeming with a treasure trove of original artworks and props. We reveled in the tone and atmosphere of it all for as long as we could.
For the most part, you can really sense that feeling of it all winding down, with the melancholy realization of knowing it’ll be another year until it all returns.
As we’re walking around in the moonlit grand courtyard, the centerpiece fountain streaked with vibrant colors from the LED lights below, my roommate drawls something along the lines of, “man, I wish this could be a three-day event.”
We all harbor the same feeling, as most people do every single year when the steam of the weekend is finally dissipating. The hubbub at this point has died to a murmur, with everyone filing out of the building into the area between the two main hotels.
The temperature outside is a bit chillier now, given the fact that Southern California is a desert, after all. Everyone is strolling around to have their final sips of beer, to glimpse their final views of the amazing cosplays, and to say their final goodbyes. For a lot of people, this isn’t really a final goodbye, because there’ll be after parties galore, but there’s still a note of finality in every little action.
My girlfriend and I decided to saunter off on our own for a little while, to soak in the ambience of that final night. The palm trees above were like swaying shadows, the stars twinkling in a sort of hypnotic way above them.
We met a few more people along our walking route towards the convention arena. For us, the most thrilling of those encounters being with Ion Hazzikostas, the game director of World of Warcraft. We squealed with excitement and asked a few silly questions, such as, “please add more corgi pets to the game.” A corgi pet returned via a new vendor in the 15th Anniversary event, so we’ll just go ahead and take credit for that because it was obviously us. For sure. And overall, the best feeling was seeing that he was still excited to talk with us and share a picture, despite likely being exhausted beyond description. This was another indicator of the strength of the community as a whole.
“Where to now?” my girlfriend asked. I really didn’t have an answer, feeling soothed by the aura of the night, with the activity of meandering aimlessly being the only thing on my mind. We walked around the convention center, staring into the illuminated interiors of the giant glass walls along the building. “No idea,” I said, “but I’ll just be here soaking it all in for every last moment I can.”
We’re all nerds. Blizzcon is our sanctuary. Our home. It’s a place where the conundrums of the real-world dissolve into pure bliss, if only for a little while. Every single year of the convention is a new experience, faced with new uncertainties and challenges. There are moments of thrill and elation, along with feelings of disappointment or frustration. There are moments where you’re on cloud-nine, eager to explore and rummage around, and moments where you feel like you could lie down and slumber for ten hours. There’s that sense of fullness upon arrival and that after-convention blue when it all ends. No matter what, however, the event as a whole has always adhered to the pursuit of a goal that’s heroic, admirable, and essential in these divisive and strange times. This quote sums it up perfectly:
“So, what exactly is our purpose? Blizzcon is demonstrating it, even as we speak. We aspire to bring the world together in epic entertainment. And I truly believe in the positive power of video games. When we get it right, we create a common ground, where the community comes together to compete, connect and play, irrespective of the things that divide us.” — J. Allen Brack
