Zelda cosplay contest in NYC: The most important event in the history of gaming

Approaching the Nintendo World store on ... uh ... fifty-somethingth street in Manhattan, Analog Pidgin and I had no idea what we were about to encounter. We'd gotten the press release. We'd gotten the email from Nick Chester, telling us how much it meant to him that we show up to represent Dtoid, how it simply broke his heart that he was unable to be there with us.

A smiling store employee greeted us at the door. As we crossed the threshold, literally tens of people stood gathered inside, waiting with bated breath as the names of the Link cosplay contest finalists were called out one by one. (Yes, finalists. We were a little late, okay?) We looked around at all the faces, amazed at the diversity in the crowd that we had just become a part of. Such a broad spectrum of cultures, classes and creeds brought together under one roof seemed impossible, even in the melting pot that is New York City. There were Children. Soccer moms. Kids whose mothers took them to soccer practice. Mothers whose children played soccer. Children of women who made their kids play soccer. Not to mention a few young mothers, who, in all likelihood, were soccer moms.

"Dude, this is weak, let's get the f*ck outta here." I heard Pidge say above the din. Had he lost his mind? This was certainly not something to be missed by any real gaming journalist, let alone him and me, two of Destructoid's most prolific newsmen. With nearly dozens of news stories on the home page under our collective belt, it would be expected, nay, demanded by the blog-reading citizens of the world that we be present. We had been sent here on a mission from our Editor-in-chief. He had put his faith in us, and I refused to let him down. Also, we had to go back to walk the dog and this was on the way. 

We waited patiently with the anxious crowd. After a few minutes, it had become clear that the man with the microphone wasn't announcing the winner anytime soon. This was undoubtedly part of some plot to bore people into making unnecessary purchases while they waited. He thought he was tricky. He thought he'd caught a few suckers in his net, but not us! No, we weren't falling for it. In an act of unabashed defiance, I marched right upstairs and purchased a copy of Phantom Hourglass, even though I had already played the Japanese version over a month ago.

It was at this point that we straight-up bounced and went home to eat pizza and play Ikaruga for about four hours. It was hard to leave an event as epic and heart-pounding as the Phantom Hourglass launch what's-it and cosplay thing-or-other, but we somehow managed to tear ourselves away so that we could come back to tell the world that Destructoid was there, in some shape or fashion; and even though we don't know or care who won, we took pictures, the dog did indeed go for a walk that afternoon, and no one can say I didn't make a post about it.