The John Cena WWE Retirement Tour: What if Cena’s Heel Turn Was Handled Differently?

John Cena’s “The Last Time is Now (retirement) Tour” during a hot creative period had all the promise to convince a lapsed fan like me to check out WWE again. Like many millennials, I grew up on John Cena. Also, like those same fans, my relationship with Cena is mixed.

I cheered for Cena’s victory at WrestleMania 21. I had a Cena “Ruck Fules” shirt that I wore to the SmackDown WrestleMania Revenge Tour house show in Cardiff. Yet by SummerSlam 2025, I was over Cena.

I was growing up, whereas Cena regressed. Cena lost his attitude. Super Cena had no bite. Excluding when he occasionally tore open opponents’ jugulars to expose their weaknesses. Cena, like Wu-Tang, was for the children. Only a capitalistic, sanitized version. M

ore caricature than man. Child-friendly insults, toilet-humor, and a colorful array of shirts like a one-man Power Rangers squad, Cena became a symbol and scapegoat. An embodiment of WWE’s duality. A man who remade WWE’s top guy mold in WWE forevermore.

Yet everything is cyclical. Through sheer force of will and undeniable effort, Cena earned the respect of fans like me. Cena earned this tour and the hype with it. A heel turn could have been cyclical, too. If WWE creatively did not fumble the bag.

Old Hat

Although intrigued, the heel turn never made me tune in beyond a few clips. I was intrigued but cautious. After Elimination Chamber, I thought WWE had the perfect opportunity to make Cena’s heel turn work. Not because it was bold, but because it was cyclical. A rare instance where kayfabe and reality could again, for the first time since The Bloodline, do something nuanced with an old formula.

The story chosen was weak, with no payoff for Cena or his partnership with The Rock and Travis Scott. Cena’s own reasoning for the failure highlights a lack of thought and prep. One, Cena did feel he had enough time to establish the characterisation. Two, Cena believes he overprepared for the role. Three, the fans did not want it.

The unstable bedrock, built on sand, was the character’s reasoning or a character arc. Yes, Cena’s reasoning had truth that echoed WWE’s past rather than the man himself—calling himself human felt robotic and done in the same style as every other Cena opening promo. For his part, Cena played the conductor well.

The cliché, on the nose, “I’m the victim” sentiment from the WWE playbook. It felt impersonal because it sounded so familiar. Again, being called toxic reminded me of why I switched off in the first place. This wasn’t the nostalgia I wanted. Ironically, an old hat resold in a new colour scheme.

WWE Chose the Wrong Story

WWE missed what seemed like an obvious personal story I thought WWE was brewing post-Royal Rumble—one about how Cena is the living embodiment of WWE as a business. At the press conference, after losing to Jey Uso, Cena spoke with determination and yet desperation. Self-entitlement with insecurity. Claiming his eventual record-breaking world championship victory was “what is best for business”.

Did it forebode a potential turn, or reinforce that Cena was and remained, in kayfabe and in some people’s actual perceptions, as a political operator? Or something akin to the tragic protagonists in prestige TV shows?

There seemed to be an internal conflict. Something that deeply connects to us as people on a universal level. The decline and end are inevitable. Time gets everyone. Yet many of us think we are the exception. We can outrun it or dictate to time our own ending the way we want it.

In wrestling and sports, we’ve seen veteran wrestlers like The Undertaker, clinging on for something perfect and failing. We’ve seen it endlessly repeating. If we’re honest, in kayfabe and reality, Cena is past his peak. Before the Royal Rumble, Cena had not won a singles match in years. Cena failed to elevate Solo Sikoa and Austin Theory. The clock ticked. Cena’s retirement was not getting the fairy tale he hoped for.

Life rarely goes as we want. The ego makes us think we are exceptional. We twist logic and sometimes morality to fit the narrative. Justify our choices and actions. When Cena said winning another world championship was “best for business”, it evoked Triple H’s The Authority, without irony. It hinted at exceptionalism.

The story could have been about Cena, the human being, deciding what kind of man he wanted to be at the end of his career.

A Visible Struggle

How far would you go for the perfect ending?

WWE and Cena could have explored the human struggle behind the Superman persona. Like my what-if suggestion for Chris Jericho truly reinventing himself in one final AEW run, WWE and Cena could have embraced and played with real-life perceptions. An exploration of how far one of WWE’s ultimate heroes would go to control their narrative, their history.

Cena wouldn’t be a heel or babyface, but a human being. Instead, Cena would be someone who can’t compete at the same level as the present generation. Instead, Cena relies on other means.

Imagine, Elimination Chamber, Cena still wins after campaigning to get himself into the number one contenders’ match. Cena acts uncharacteristically. More opportunist and selective. In the end, winning with what appears to be a handful of tights. There’s no Travis Scott or The Rock. The story heading to WrestleMania is Cody Rhodes questioning Cena’s integrity.

Cena does not engage when his cheating is brought up. Instead, Cena does what he’s always done: acknowledge that the crowd isn’t all with him. Slowly, hypocrisy is built up.

His relationship and words to the fandom gradually hint at and become an abusive relationship that he uses to justify his actions. Becomes the reason why Cena needs to win the title again. Ultimately, that’s what Cena’s character is doing this for. Cena says for the fans, but it’s his own insecurity and selfishness.

Cena – Morally Grey

Fans might cheer in support or boo in opposition to a morally ambiguous John Cena. A divided crowd is nothing new. Duelling chants of “Let’s go Cena- Cena sucks” have been a beloved chorus for decades. That chorus continuing until the end would be fitting. Seeing Cena willingly breaking his code of “hustle, loyalty, and respect” to achieve history would demand emotional investment. It would feel like a real person rather than a traditional wrestling archetype.

Three questions could have driven the story to and beyond WrestleMania.

• Does Cena break the record at WrestleMania?
• Does Cena cheat to break the record?
• When does Cena redeem himself?

Those questions are loaded. Ultimately, we knew, and many wanted Cena to become a record seventeen-time world champion. Yet the broader story would be Cena’s eventual redemption. After all, Cena could not end his career as a full-blown heel. That would betray his legacy. Whether fans love or hate Cena, he was always the ultimate good guy.

If Cena won at WrestleMania by cheating, the following arc could have been one of self-denial. Increasing shortcuts justified. Using the fans as an excuse, then blaming them. Those few scheduled appearances utilized by Cena and opponents imply an abuse of power. Protectionism reflective of Cena’s old foes, Edge, The Authority, or JBL. Eventually, Cena would lose the title, either showing during that match or afterwards, regret and realization.

Alternatively, like AEW’s Hangman Adam Page during his tweener “dark night of the soul” run, Cena perhaps failed to win the big one at first. Simply because Cena can’t win if he’s not the good guy. Self-discovery and reconciliation lead to a renewed Cena. Cena breaks the record as a babyface later in the year.

Conclusion

Ironically, the inconsistent and unsatisfying ending for Cena’s era reminds fans of elements of The Chain Gang Leader’s peak. Reflecting the past, the story and character, it is fitting that Cena, in his final run, has had to overcome creative without a clear end-goal. Creative that did not consider the arc and development of his character.