It was 4:30 AM, and there were already dozens of people lining up in a dingy parking lot with rope guiding us like cattle. For over two hours, we waited as more people showed up for their shot at a seat during the opening ceremony. We met a family of three that had gone to over six separate BlizzCons, well-versed in how everything works. The son came early, sparing his parents from the lack of sleep.
We were finally let in, then had to wait in front of the doors to the building.
It took a total of six hours of waiting before we were finally allowed inside. My dad and I were in the front, with a literal horde of Blizzard fans behind us, so desperate to reach the exhibit that they chanted, “Door! Door! Door!” any moment an employee stepped outside of the exhibit hall. When we were finally let in, the stampede stopped for nothing. Like a startled herd, you couldn’t stop moving, or you’d be trampled.
This was my introduction to what waş in-store for me at my first trip to BlizzCon: Blizzard Entertainment’s 21-year-spanning convention.
A slew of announcements then poured onto us—Diablo V, Season Five of Overwatch, a new StarCraft game (my personal favorite) that won’t be out until 2030, and the new spinoff Warcraft Forever. This was only a handful of the many announcements I could make an article on, but I was there for more than just the games.
After I wandered, while the experienced con-goers went straight for what they’ve been patiently waiting almost two years for, the first thing I did was meet the development team for the new StarCraft game. I got all their signatures on the free poster. We had limited time to talk, as I felt the stares of my fellow gamers waiting their turn to ask if the game would be more like Helldivers or Destiny as they shift away from the IP’s traditional RTS genre.
Meeting up with my dad, we wandered around some more. I snatched as many pictures as I could of the massive, life-like statues of beloved characters and artifacts from across the games: The aging Jaina Proudmoore from World of Warcraft, Jim Raynor, and the weapons of characters from arguably their most popular game, Overwatch.
We got into lines for merch, managing to snag a few items for friends and ourselves, burning a hole in my wallet that I still feel to this day. Content with what we’d done, and now running on fumes from travelling, we decided to leave, not before catching the amazing cosplays on display.
Cosplay is one of, if not the biggest attraction of the convention. Hundreds, if not thousands, of dollars and hours of love were spent on the most realistic, innovative, and goofy cosplays across all games and completely unrelated IP’s (I’m looking at you, 2B). The Community Night put that on display, with contests being held until everyone left to go drink until the sun came up.
The next day, we got there at a reasonable time of 9:30 and saw the crowd of people cut in half since yesterday; no doubt a good chunk hungover in hotel rooms with no regrets.
We started our journey with, surprise, surprise, another line, this one leading to the Dark Moon Fair: World of Warcraft’s in-game festival brought to real life. With moody purple lighting, themed fair attractions with overpriced minigames, and a store to gamble for that one pin you want to add to your collection, most of our day was spent here before one of the panels I wanted to attend was about to start.
We rushed over, fortunate that it was on the same floor as us, and clapped as the Story and Franchise Development Team walked out—the people behind the legendary cinematics of Blizzard’s games. They gave us their personal account of what a day in the office looks like and how even the worst ideas become the best. I had the chance to speak with the Senior Writer, Andrew Robinson, who told me, “You are why we get to do what we get to do.”
I was feeling pretty inspired after that.
Riding that high, I dragged my dad through the rest of the exhibits we weren’t able to explore before, snagging pictures with as many cosplayers as I could. We tested betas, updates, and watched tournaments.
One of my favorite attractions was the “Enlistment Center” that promoted the new StarCraft game, where you get to “enlist” into StarCraft’s fictional authoritarian regime by pumping out a few pull-ups. I got in line and met two people. We spoke about what games we loved, and how they’ve been fans of Blizzard for over twenty years, which is almost as long as I’ve been alive. Yet here we were, celebrating together.
Despite the anxiety of performing in front of people, I had managed to eke out nine and a half pull-ups, thanking God that I worked out. I walked up to the recruit, pressed my pointer finger in ink to show I could pull a trigger, and signed my life away to the dominion.
There were too many events to cover at once, and we had to pick and choose, but by the early evening, my poor abused father was tapped out. I had energy and knew the Marriott and Hilton next door to the convention center were famous for being party central. Eating a hearty meal and showering to look my best, I headed to the elevator, where I met John, a six-foot-two man with green hair and the same BlizzCon wristband I had.
We talked, and he told me how his guild had flown in and was all at the Marriott. Upon finding out this was my first BlizzCon, he asked if I’d like to join him. I said yes as I began to hop into this random man’s minivan, knowing my mom would be smacking me. We ended up stopping by the liquor store for a bottle of tequila before finally heading to the Marriott.
It was pandemonium.
Dozens of people all chatting and bantering, famous cosplayers with their posse, lead developers for World of Warcraft and other prominent figures just milling about. I met one of the other stragglers John and his guild had picked up, a man from the UK. We both talked about how it was our first time at BlizzCon. He and I ordered drinks, where my well vodka and Sprite painfully cost twenty dollars. I see now why John had gotten the bottle of tequila.
We met the rest of the guild, dubbed Nintendo, most of whom were all older than me, leading full lives from different parts of the country. Somehow, all of them had the coordination to make official guild jerseys (home and away) as well as commemorative green mushroom patches. It wasn’t until two in the morning that they tapped out. After exchanging Discords and IGNs, we parted ways. I walked back to the hotel and passed out.
The ride back was hell, as my connection was ruined, leading me to fly to multiple parts of the country, but the delays let me see how far the love of Blizzard Entertainment reached. I spotted the signature BlizzCon backpack on people going to Hawaii, New York and Oregon, to name a few. In this day and age of gaming companies making questionable decisions, we sometimes forget why people are so loyal to a brand or IP—looking on from the outside, unable to truly understand.
Video games live and die by the people who play them, whether it’s the family of three, the two guys you meet in line or the guild you do shots with. If going to BlizzCon has done anything, it’s reminded me that people want to support these games—all you need to do is give them a reason to.
