The Time is Now For Cena’s Final Story

Maybe the time isn’t quite now yet, but in 2025 John Cena will be retiring from in-ring competition, closing the book on a wrestling career that will have spanned 26 years.

Listening to him last night, we’re a far cry from the man who walked into a WWE ring opposite Kurt Angle in June 2002, proclaimed he exuded “ruthless aggression” and proceeded to tear through the WWE roster from that point forward. Humble beginnings come to mind when I think back on it now; we weren’t quite in the jorts era yet, “You Can’t See Me” hadn’t been released, and we were a far cry from Saiyan Cena.

No gimmicks.

No freestyles.

Just John as a slightly tweaked version of what I think he would call his authentic self.

Although “rapper Cena” might have ultimately morphed into a more grounded jort-wearing fellow over time, maybe what we see now is the evolved version of what we saw many years ago during that debuting moment opposite the “Olympic Hero.” Maybe the man who sat in front of a media room last night fielding more questions than he was allowed is the man who attacked his careers with the ferocious foundational meaning of that phrase — “Ruthless Aggression” — with every fibre of his character.

With his announcement last night, his final chapter in wrestling is upon us. While it was unclear it’s presumable we won’t see him again this year, other than maybe the odd moment or two. From there, as Cena noted last night he and WWE have agreed to approximately 40 dates throughout 2025 including Royal Rumble, Elimination Chamber and WrestleMania. During the presser he also insinuated Money in the Bank 2025 would also be on the table en route to his finale toward the end of the year. The only question that remains is what that year looks like.

Perhaps it’s premature or unfair to already start keyboard booking something that may not begin for another 5-6 months, but whether you’ve been a fan of his or not, it’s difficult to avoid that compulsion with someone whose far-reaching impact on wrestling has transcended generations and who for some is their Hogan or Austin whether that’s fair or not. He’s been that person for the company.

“I’m done, this is it”

Regardless of how his final run shapes up, one thing Cena made perfectly clear at the presser was that this was it for him.

No Returns, and no comebacks.

No special appearances, and definitely no table spots.

No jorts, throwback jerseys or freestyles.

Just “thank yous.”

He made the point Saturday night that so many in wrestling who retire never stick to it. Ric Flair is fundamentally a meme at this point for that reason. He also pointed out that some wrestlers are medically forced to retire for their own good, and I believe that any who have been watching wrestling for some time will have their own view on people holding on too long, coming back for the wrong reasons, or simply continuing for selfish reasons.

When I think of Cena going out on his own terms, I think of Shawn Michaels bowing out, or more recently Sting in AEW and soon to be Bryan Danielson as a full timer. There’s something of value to be said for bowing out on your own terms with your head held high.

I remember HBK’s complete, utter, nearly stupid defiance to the end (or being the only watchable fellow in a certain tag match) before getting dumped on his head pretty emphatically. Sting’s hallmark balls-to-the-wall theatrics regardless of his age spring to mind. Or Bryan Danielson just being Bryan Danielson and proving why he’s one of the best of all time.

It’s those final stamps on their careers that we remember, that we call back on with a smile far beyond when they walk through the curtain that one last time. We’re all going to have those memories, those lasting impressions and the beauty of wrestling is that different people are going to resonate with you for different reasons.

From a pop culture perspective, Cena transcends wrestling. That’s his genesis, but he’s as much now known for his love and affinity for social causes and acting as he is bouncing off the ropes, doing a little a shuffle and planting fist into his opponent’s face.

Hell, he’s even one of only three WWE wrestlers to be added to Fortnite. Yeah, at this point he’s even “that guy from Fortnite.” Most importantly though his perspectives, his charity work and his desire to inspire us are a cornerstone of what makes him unique and helps him resonate beyond any one sphere of his life and how we interact with him.

I’m a “Cena sucks” kind of guy, but I respect him for all the reasons above and can see his value as a human being along the path he shuffles. I think when you look at him with any objectivity, you can’t truly help but respect and appreciate him for where he’s come from and what he’s done with his influence in the time he’s had.

Appreciate it all, appreciate him while we have him in this sphere.

(…He still sucks though. :)…)

The Final Run

While it’s perhaps a little silly to dream book his run, you can’t help but run through the scenarios of what a final run looks like for Cena. The central piece I’ve always imagined was that last attempt to break the 16-world title deadlock with Flair to cement himself in WWE’s annals as the company’s top champion of all time. What I couldn’t really wrap my head around until Saturday night was what that looks like.

Cena’s WWE career has been founded on opportunities and taking initiative, but equally so working hard, never backing down and refusing to give up while exuding the definitions of hustle, loyalty and respect through all walks of his professional life. I think his last run needs to encapsulate that.

We’re in a season of the WWE calendar where it’s all made easier to succeed in kayfabe. You want to be a champion? Win the Royal Rumble twice like Cody Rhodes. Maybe even come in last as the number 30 entrant.

Failed? Don’t worry, qualify for the Elimination Chamber and win your way to WrestleMania.

Failed there too? Don’t worry, you can also either climb a ladder or put a crown on your head. Either works.

Look at Saturday night’s examples. On the one hand Drew McIntyre won the right to call his shot for a championship opportunity, which he did, and failed to be successful at. Sure CM Punk might have aided in that, but altogether the short route to success proved fruitless as McIntyre tried to play the same hand Damian Priest played against him and fell short. Or take Tiffany Stratton, who following in MITB tradition of late did not cash in as well, leaving her to possess the ace-in-the-hole opportunity to be redeemed at her own opportune moment.

In either case, that’s the short cut. It’s the easy way. Above all, it’s very much anti-Cena.

I’m not saying he won’t win any of those, but there’s a degree of poetry in winning one or more and failing to succeed. Falling short of the goal line with the clock nearing zero as you chase history. It’s the shortcut, and for Cena to fail and rise again is very much the hustle of what a final John Cena story should be.

His last ride for lack of better terminology should remind us of who he is, what he’s represented and what he wants his legacy to be as he leaves the company behind in the competitive sense. That story has the potential to punctuate a career for fans who grew up with him as their favourite wrestler or who perhaps patterned themselves after from a humanistic point of view. That’s lost in translation if that success is obtained by walking around with a glorified suitcase after climbing an overstated ladder or any of the other short routes to the top.

For that to be a reality, I think he almost has to win one of the four and lose his chance at immortality to reset and remind himself before can remind us that nothing worthwhile comes easily, and that anything worth capturing needs to be worked for. Hard work and dedication mean everything.

“I would love the opportunity, but those opportunities are earned and given my track record I have some work to do.”

The last part of his quote from the presser is important. In recent memory Cena is on a losing streak and deserves nothing, because he’s earned nothing. That degree of futility in pro sports leads to being demoted to the minors, or being a healthy scratch, or being at the end of the bench of a basketball team only to hit the floor for garbage time with the team up or down 30 points. That’s what his recent performances are, but I’m also reminded of the cliche Jeff Jarrett mentioned during his interview prior to AEW’s third annual Owen Hart Cup tournament.

“I may not be as good as I once was, but I’m as good as I was once.”

Like a past-prime home run hitter, or a boxer who only has their brawn left, they only need one shot to remind us of who they are. A flash of brilliance harkening back to the times of neon-clad, jort-wearing glory punctuated by adjusted attitudes left and right. I think a John Cena finale needs it all. It needs him to desperately vie for all those shortcuts and failing in those efforts, only to succeed once and fail again. Losing is part of the story because it’s a genesis and a reminder, a time to reflect on who we actually are and what we stood for in the first place.

Whether Cena wins the 17th title is irrelevant to his story because success outright has never been the point. What matters most is the last stand, understanding what makes you tick, standing up one last time and giving it everything you’ve got. Whether the die is cast and lands in your favour isn’t the point, the point is to take the chance to try and put everything you have into what you’ve set out to do with absolute purpose. And in success or failure, the moral is knowing that and being at peace with it.

That’s what John Cena’s last hurrah can be. As for how it ends, that’s the fun part.