By Jeremy Maes, DEJ Experience member

Sunday morning started off rather uneventful other than a slight headache and the sound some people outside the door discussing their day. After whipping up another blog about the trip I checked the local Orlando bus system, Lynx, for a bus schedule down to the Citrus Bowl for the show tonight.

Unlike Detroit last year, we had no idea where to park and what the easiest route was going to be. The friendly gentleman who tried selling Eric a timeshare had mentioned that there was a bus route that would take us right to the stadium. This way we could bypass the nasty traffic jams and at this point in the trip it seemed like our best option.

After perusing the times and stops I realized we had a nice bus stop in front of the Sizzler across the street and it is a short 30-minute ride by public transportation to WrestleMania. We would pay a small fee instead of large parking fees, and we wouldn’t have to worry about driving home.

I had the route worked out, and then it all crashed down. There was no return route. According to their schedule online there were no return trips, as the buses seemingly stopped at 9:15 p.m. This was unpleasant news; we all wanted to take the bus and be with the common folk once again. We were going to use this time to get the man on the street view of WrestleMania and gauge the excitement from this. It certainly wasn’t a perfect case study, but it would have been interesting.

So Eric stops on over at our room and gives the good news that the audios uploaded and had been sent off and things were finally looking up. We finally got the audio situation under control and the internet access in the hotel hadn’t crashed out since Saturday morning. I broke the news about the bus system and we got Kevin in on the conversation. Since he was playing Hoak (“Driving Miss Daisy” reference, in case you missed 1989) this weekend, we needed the driver's input on the situation.

We decided to just fork over the extra time and money and drive down to the Citrus Bowl and sit in traffic on the way back. At least we could record the audio again in the car and make it an annual tradition. We all agreed to leave about 4:30 to 5 p.m. since the battle royal started at 6:30. That way if we got stuck at least we would have only missed Kane winning and his long exit from the ring.

Kevin then brought up the best idea we had all weekend and suggested we grab lunch before we head out. Seeing how it was only 11:30 a.m. (we woke up early) we could actually walk somewhere and walk back. A little exercise on the trip for the first time. Kevin also was in his anxious mode: He wanted to get out and catch the Penguins game at 12:30 p.m.

Here is a little background information to shine a light on that last piece of info: Kevin, Emily, Mel and I all went to Atlanta for the Royal Rumble. It just so happened that the day of the Rumble was also a Steelers playoff game. Kevin was so nervous and anxious he couldn’t sleep. We also happened to have a closet in the hotel room that was larger than the bathroom. Kev was so wound up he grabbed his “Lord of The Rings” maxi-sized novel and went in to the closet to read instead of sleeping. There was lonely old Kevin, stewing and reading to pass the time before a football game, in the closet of a Super 8 Hotel.

Back to Orlando, Eric and Kevin went ahead, and Mel and I joined them a few minutes later. We all met at the Buffalo Wild Wings, which his a favorite spot of mine since they don't have locations in the south. BW3 was also the site of some famous rants of mine while watching wrestling PPVs in college, so the restaurant has reservations in a piece of my heart – and belly.

We got there and met up with the gang. Eric brought his laptop and I had the camera. We were once again going to try and record in public to make it seem like we were not only important but to give the feel that we are on location and not just in some crappy hotel in the middle of Orlando. The place was relatively quiet so it would have been a perfect recording. Minimal background noise but just enough to make it clear we are out “on location” somewhere.

We ordered our food with 10:31 remaining in the first period of the game. We planned on recording during the intermission but we scrapped that since we figured the food would come in the middle of recording. So we decide we would do it when we were done eating unlike every other show we have ever done.

As we waited, talked and watched the game, we all noticed that not a lot of food was coming out of the kitchen. Not that we expected food immediately but when we get to the 10:00 mark of the second period we knew something was wrong. We were also worried after seeing large trays of food being shuffled to the wrong table or in some cases nowhere at all. The blank expressions of the waitress started off as funny but then became frustrating.

We finally got our food, after our waitress apologized for the slow service, and it was delicious. By delicious I mean lukewarm, except for Eric’s blazing hot coleslaw. We picked over the food and when we finished Mel took off for a nap. So with just the three of us we decided to try the show. Much like the rest of this trip it couldn’t go well.

It was relatively quiet up until ten minutes before we started recording. We tried it anyway to see if things would come out alright. We recorded for five minutes, looking like morons in the process. The sight of three adults hunched over a table talking near a video camera just isn’t normal. We did the usual intro and chatted a bit about something and stopped recording. On playback, the sound was terrible due to the now ridiculously loud background noise that was nearly nonexistent before we decided to give this thing a try. So we scrapped the entire idea and our midday audio was never completed.

We got our checks from the bartender/waitress who was sufficiently irritated with her coworkers and checked out. She explained half of the staff that day was new on the job, thus the problems and confusion. She apologized over and over and told us that management was telling her to be positive and smile. She also added, “If someone tells me to smile once more I’ll f***ing scream.” She earned her tip right there and I think Eric fell in love.

By the time we made it back to the hotel, cleaned up and got ourselves in gear, it was time to head out. We left in plenty of time this swing around figuring we would run in to traffic. Our trip down International Drive took a mere 10 minutes and we hit I-4 eastbound with little hassle. We actually reached a cruising speed of 85 miles per hour, and we made it down to the same exit we had been taking all weekend in 10 minutes.

Yes, we made it to the same spot for a show that had a projected attendance over 70,000 people when we couldn’t; make the same time on the same stretch of road for a show of 1,200. No, I shouldn’t complain about this but it was just ridiculous. In some bizzaro fashion the red seas parted and we were lead forward.

So Kevin pulls “Big Pimpin'” in to the Amway Arena parking lot for a measly five dollars to park. The Lynx bus system was providing free bus transportation to the Citrus Bowl for those attending WrestleMania. It was contingent on the patrons to find their own parking of course. We parked 50 feet away from the buses, and I was still bewildered by our travel time.

We then entered the bus and were on our way in just five minutes. Eric was the only one of us who were still actively taking public transportation so he may have not been impressed but these were some nice buses. It didn’t have that sour mayonnaise smell, and the seats were cloth instead of ripped pleather or hard plastic. It was quite possibly the nicest bus of any sort I had ever been in.

So the bus takes off and we noticed that the City of Orlando or someone (none of us knew) had already blocked of certain traffic lanes just for these shuttles. The only time they stopped was for the traffic lights; beyond that it was smooth sailing. The efficiency of this entire operation should be commended; they handled a large mass of people with ease, and it appeared to have gone off without a hitch.

We arrived at the bus stop in about 10 minutes and we all shuffled off toward the large concrete slab decorated with dashes of purple, yellow and green banners. The bus stop was less than a half-mile from the Citrus Bowl, and I slowly fell in love with Orlando transit. As we walked, there were oodles of people selling tickets. Somehow everyone had someone else in their party cancel on them and due to Ticketmaster’s return policy they were stuck.

Before we entered the outer concourse, we stood outside and just took in the sights. We had a full view of a park with a nice looking lake, the homeless and trash all throughout the landscape. We saw plenty of people walking by with their replica championship belts slung over their shoulder like a badge of honor. Of course, these people also have to lug around a giant piece of plastic for five hours.

After a good bit of observing – or as some could call it, staring – we made our way to the ticket takers. They were a kind bunch and I figured this was due to being early in the process. By 6:45 those poor ladies would be hating every single person coming through the turnstiles. One thing that they failed to do was properly search anyone, and I loved them for it. The security check at this place in the stadium reminded me of the old days. We walked in, they told us what we can and cannot bring in and we walked right through. We could have had a weapons cache under our clothes and they would have never known. It’s the entire fallacy of security we are given in this country, and they helped prove this point.

Now in keeping with the theme of our weekend we made our steady climb to the top of the Citrus Bowl. We were in section 314, about eight rows (Kevin counted) from the very top of the stadium. We were once again sitting with the common folk.

We settled in to our seats about 6 p.m., where for a Ring of Honor show we would still be in traffic I am sure, and really took in the setting. After going to two small wrestling shows in a gymnasium, being in a stadium was a jarring experience. The stage alone was bigger than the Orlando Rec Center.

In each corner of the stadium WWE had brought in palm trees to add some tropical flavor to this concrete slab. They really needed to do these small touches because the Citrus Bowl is rundown. There are a lot of rust spots, cracked concrete and just dirt all over the place. Between the WrestleMania 24 banners, the trees, flags and other eye candy, WWE did a good job disguising the age of the stadium.

On the way up the spiraling ramp we stopped at different points to take pictures. Across from the stadium was a lake, and WWE had a barge of fireworks out there. We wondered what it would take to accidentally set those off and cause Vince some unnecessary stomachaches. From the ramp we could also see the market-like environment of production tents, equipment and stagehands milling about behind the large entrance set. The sheer amount of people, rigs and cabling alone was impressive. It is eye-opening to see the amount of work it takes to create such a show.

We made it to the top level and finally to some level ground. The concourse was a cramped mess of people, with different food vendors and more people with championship belts. We passed by one gentleman in full on Undertaker gear who of course had his own world title. People stopped as if they believed the real Undertaker was walking the crowd before the show. Some people even stopped to get their picture taken with the guy who never broke character. I could understand if it was a kid, but these were adults who were not goofing on this guy or at least making him look stupid while you gave a rock out pose or held bunny ears behind his head.

As we moved by the spectacle of the fake Undertaker we came across only a few merchandise stands. Surprisingly there were a lot of souvenirs instead of t-shirts. There were plenty of WrestleMania jerseys, t-shirts and other paraphernalia but not a lot of individual wrestler shirts. They had some Cena merch and an equal number of Triple H shirts. No other wrestler was represented by more than a simple black shirt. There was no real diversity other than the top guys and WrestleMania stamped items. It did not dissuade people from standing in long lines to buy this stuff, though.

After a quick bathroom break and some muddling around the concourse we decided we should head inside. We had no idea what we were getting into as far as seating, so the sooner we hit it the better. So we all gathered ourselves and headed through the tunnel to our seats.

Jeremy Maes is the “J” of the DEJ Audio Experience. You can listen to that group of organized crime perpetrators every Wednesday night on the member’s portion of PWTorch.com. You can read Jeremy’s thoughts every Sunday on PWTorch.com. You can even contact Jeremy or any member of the DEJ faction on the PWTorch VIP Forum, or by email at torchmaes@yahoo.com.