New York Comic Con
Summer of 1970, in the heart of San Diego, and the Golden State Comic Con draws in roughly 300 people over a three day period. Fast forward 47 years where, on a single Sunday at Comic Con in NYC, I am mind blown by -- not hundreds -- but thousands dressed from head-to-toe in the latest cosplay of beloved classic heroes. All of them here for one purpose: to engage in some hero worshiping at its finest, and for some to pass along their passion to their children.
It was my first time attending this event, even though I’ve been a huge fan and avid reader of comics and manga for years, and have heard from Comic Con attendees legendary experiences. This year, however, I was able to tell a legendary story of my own. While running around trying to get every “buy 1, get 1 free” deal, I captured the Comic Con “experience” that many claimed to so easily enveloped them in a world of hero vs. villain, shadow vs. light, and good vs. evil-- even if just for fun.
Walking along the countless artist merchandise, I come across a legend in the comic book world and a fan favorite (based, at least, on the number of people wearing his costume from past years)... that's right; you guessed it: the admirable, but hilariously sarcastic DEADPOOL.
But, this is no ordinary Deadpool. This guy is none other than Pope Deadpool. Despite a crowd of people surrounding this cosplayed and, frankly, freakin’ awesome character portrayal while, looking for ways to wreak havoc in the funniest of ways, I was finally able to get my shot. Around 3 hours later, $500 in purchases of everything from signed voice actor posters to a Katana, a creeping marathon-like numbness in my legs, and a ridiculous amount of photos, I see Pope Deadpool coming down an escalator followed by an army of Deadpools in all shapes, sizes, and forms.
A wave of others clapped and cheered, striking me curious as to what else they saw. Catching a glimpse of Pope Deadpool after coming down the escalator into his crowd of loyal fans, I also caught a nearby cosplayer dressed as a unicorn. With no words spoken, Pope Deadpool stopped dead in his tracks and -- as if it was destined or ordained by the Comic Con gods above (and below) -- led his army of Deadpoolers in an all out sprint towards the unicorn, collectively embracing it in a full-on, long group hug. Hearing stories of Deadpool’s ridiculous and sometimes outrageous behavior, this sweet moment should rate equally high as something you simply had to see to believe... and love.
Safe to say, my Comic Con experience was awesome, expensive, and touching. Hopefully, upon reading this, you will make it a point to not wait a few years like me, no less 47, to have your own Pope Deadpool moment. Maybe be that unicorn in some sort of weird group hug.