On April 1, 2001 in Houston, Texas, the WWF hosted in my esteemed (okay, let's face it, probably worthless) opinion the finest event/card in its amazing history.

Packed to the rafters with 68,000 baying fans (breaking the attendance record for the Reliant in the process), Wrestlemania 17 is widely considered by many, the closing curtain and last hurrah of the so-called Attitude Era.

I've since personally come to see the event as a symbolic ending to the last time I could say wrestling was mainstream enough to be considered 'cool' (or one of the last times I could admit being a fan!); the beginning of a slow and painful decline for the wrestling industry...but I digress.

What made Wrestlemania 17 unlike any other Wrestlemania previously and following Wrestlemanias was not the only the great card, wrestlers involved or even storylines leading up to the event (although WM 17 really ticked all the boxes in these areas)—but quite simply the whole damn package that it was.

Everything came together perfectly, and it just felt so right at the time.

Nu-metal was also about to see the end of its popularity too, but Limp Biskit's My Way was perfect for the occasion. It was a song that really fit the theme for WM 17.

On commentary, Paul Heyman and good ol' J.R enlightened proceedings.

You know I'm genuinely surprised to hear Heyman's voice whenever I watch some of WM17 again on Youtube and the like. I'd always remembered Jerry Lawler being J.R's predominant partner in the attitude era and remembered Heyman as only doing commentary when the Invasion storyline kicked in.

Not that Heyman did a bad job in his time behind the commentary both or anything—there's was hardly a night where Heyman didn't royally p*ss off the usually dignified Jim Ross, and to be fair he did not let up on J.R. at WM 17 either!

Anyway back to the action...

With 11 matches, WM 17 was a blockbuster card. Anyone who ordered it couldn't say they were shortchanged with over four hours of action.

Not only that, but amazingly, every match on the card (Gimmick battle royal aside) made sense considering the previous angles and storylines WWE gave us in the preceding months: There was hardly any filler too.

Likewise, there wasn't any of the blatant 'exhibition' type crap we're now used to seeing at Wrestlemania (Show v Mayweather, Show v Akebono, Show v Godzilla etc).

The matches were a blast.

My favourite wrestler at the time, Kane (yeah, he used to rock!) had one of the wackiest triple threat matches you'll ever see with the Big Show and poor Raven (Even now I remember those golf cart antics vividly).

In what many purists saw as the dream technical match-up of the time, Kurt Angle faced the now passed away Chris Benoit in a gripping encounter (one of many classics they would later have).

What gives this particular one further gravitas is the simple fact that its a matchup we'll never have the pleasure of seeing again on the big stage between these two greats (say what you will about events since then...)

Of course it would be stupid not to point out why WM 17 had major historical significance for wrestling at the time too: Only weeks prior Shane McMahon surreally appeared on WCW Nitro claiming he had bought WCW, kick starting the father vs. son storyline and the later Invasion scenario.

This was the WWF's time to throw a party, having finally driven a stake through Ted Turner's wrasslin' experiment down south.

But whereas the WWE f*cked up big time in the end with the Invasion (a bit like everything else since) the match itself on the night was surprisingly exciting.

I'm not Vince's biggest fan—his dreadful in-ring work would give Mick Foley a run for his money—but to give the devil his due, both he and Shane pulled off a riot with their streetfight.

Unlike nowadays where championships have no relevance, all minor championships were also on the line at the big show.

Jericho and Regal gave a decent opening bout for the IC title, the now legendary Eddie Guerrero also had a decent but not outstanding bout with Test for the European Championship, and Chyna squashed super-feminist (and f'n hilarious) Ivory for the Women's title.

Although the matches weren't amazing, like any good booker knows, it kept the titles relevant in the fans eyes that night—something the WWE has forgotten (or in the case with its B-list Hollywood writing staff, never known).

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