His Time is Up

In recent times when I think of John Cena, a question comes to mind – is he the best bad wrestler ever, or the worst good wrestler ever? You may see this as a distinction without a difference. You may ask how a wrestler with such a long list of good matches can be considered bad. Or you may wonder how a wrestler with such sloppy punches, loose submission, awkward body movements and barely concealed spot-calling could ever meet the definition of a good wrestler.

Thus are the contradictions of John Cena’s career, which is set to draw to a close this year. He was by far WWE’s biggest star during a period of slow erosion of business metrics over a decade. He went from being popular, to being loathed, to being begrudgingly respected by the hardcore wrestling audience whose relationship to WWE was increasingly fractious during the late period of Vince McMahon’s four decade tenure at the helm of the company.

I think back on my own time as a wrestling fan, who was first introduced to WWF during the height of the Attitude Era. Unlike most of my peers, I stuck through the dog days of the HHH reign of terror in the early 2000s and saw Cena crowned, along with Batista, as the top stars in the company in 2005. Cena was the first true post-Monday Night Wars top star established by WWE, and the first to spend the majority of his career in an era where increasing amounts of wrestling fans spent their time discussing the business on the internet. The effect of these factors make John Cena, in my estimation, the first meta wrestler. That is, as Cena’s career progressed, more of his matches and programmes became centred around the meaning of his position as the franchise star of WWE, both in and out of kayfabe.

© WWE

Cena’s main roster WWE career started inauspiciously as a musclebound but bland OVW call-up. By now we have all heard the story of Stephanie McMahon hearing Cena do comedy raps backstage, leading to him incorporating this into his gimmick and saving himself from being future-endeavoured. To put it mildly, the raps have not aged well. However, they did get Cena over for the first time and he feuded with top acts like Kurt Angle, Brock Lesnar and The Undertaker on his way up the Smackdown card. He had the full force of the fans behind him as he was crowned WWE Champion in a tepid match with John Bradshaw Layfield at Wrestlemania 21. His first defence in a bloody I Quit bout against Layfield the following month was by far Cena’s best performance to date.

However, the company did recognise that his work was not strong enough to carry top programmes without stipulations, so they booked him with superior workers like Christian, Chris Jericho and Kurt Angle to carry the load. This would change Cena’s career forever. Yes, this is when the boos started. As an increasing proportion of the WWE audience were becoming hardcore ‘workrate’ fans, many could see that Cena was the clear inferior worker against his opponents throughout the rest of 2005. Compounding this was a sense from that segment of the fan base that acts like Christian and Jericho had never truly got the chance to be top stars in their own right. Boos and ‘You Can’t Wrestle’ chants grew throughout arenas any time Cena appeared and would characterise the entirety of the rest of his run on top in WWE.

© WWE

Two of the most instructive moments of Cena’s career came in 2006; his feud with HHH going into Wrestlemania 22 and his defeat to Rob Van Dam at One Night Stand a few months later. The Mania feud was the classic Levesque political stitch up. He ‘put Cena over’ by doing the job, but not before showing him up in the match and eviscerating him with snarky shoot comments in the promos leading up to it, I’ll never forget the “am I supposed to be scared of a guy who’s best move is pumping up his Reeboks?” line. These promos would be a massive influence on Cena as he cemented himself as a top star. Newer fans may recall when Cena eviscerated lesser acts like Roman Reigns or Austin Theory on the microphone. This feud was the origin point for that. Similarly, the RVD match, in which Cena was booed mercilessly by the Hammerstein crowd, was the origin for a familiar story beat for Cena over the next decade – where he is the hated representative of corporate and sanitised WWE, wrestling versus a more ‘authentic’ star from outside, like CM Punk or Daniel Bryan.

I would argue that Cena’s best year as a worker came in 2007. After around 18 months on top, he had begun to find his feet as the signature babyface in WWE, as exemplified by his classic feud with Umaga. Just watch his babyface fire-up spot in their Royal Rumble 2007 Last Man Standing Match and tell me that isn’t peak Cena. This was followed up by a great, underappreciated Wrestlemania main event against Shawn Michaels, another match where a bloody faced Cena gritted through the pain to overcome his opponent. He was also put in a position to lead a feud against less experienced wrestlers for the first time and did an admirable job carrying The Great Khali and Bobby Lashley to as good of matches as they were capable of. This period was also likely Cena’s athletic peak, although he would never fully lose his trademark clunkiness. Indeed, he ended the year with a torn pectoral, one of many injuries that he would rush back from, diminishing his athletic capability.

This, combined with the after effects of the Benoit murders, would change the direction of Cena’s career. Although he remained the top babyface, the company’s pivot to a PG product meant that gritty brawls with blade jobs were out and a more cartoonish presentation was in – complete with garish t-shirts and trite catchphrases. Cena became emblematic of this terrible period for WWE creative, where bad comedy and stale acts on top dominated their shows. This era was possibly the nadir of American television wrestling, as WWE had a near monopoly of the mainstream and fans became increasingly resentful. A burgeoning independent wrestling scene continued to flourish during this period in response to fan dissatisfaction with the WWE product, but this would lead to inevitable conflict as the only way for the new independent stars to truly make money in wrestling at this stage was in WWE.

© WWE

The introduction of CM Punk and Bryan Danielson, later to be joined by fellow ROH luminaries such as Tyler Black, El Generico and Kevin Steen, would bring some life to the stale WWE product and gradually begin to change the working style of the company. The issue these wrestlers faced was that there was a glass ceiling on how far they could get in the roster hierarchy – no matter what, none of them could surpass Cena at the very top. This real life frustration felt by the hardcore audience became the central feature of Cena’s programmes with these wrestlers, especially against Punk, who played the anti-establishment opposition to Cena’s company man. Indeed, while the McMahons appeared on TV as heels, Cena existed as the babyface manifestation of WWE – someone that a section of the fan base would cheer – even as others booed him vociferously. (Incidentally, this would always lead to awkward dynamics when Cena was positioned as babyface opposition to Vince or The Authority, as everyone knew he was a company man through and through, but he had to play their opponent on TV as they tried to pander to the audience to get him cheers.) Punk and Danielson took the “you can’t wrestle” chants from this portion of the audience and made them canon – even though in kayfabe it was patently absurd to say that someone who had been world champion upwards of ten times could not wrestle. For all intents and purposes, the kayfabe storylines for these matches served as commentaries on WWE booking in a period where the company was increasingly in conflict with its fans. To Cena’s credit, he did the clean job to Punk, Danielson and the others when the time came.

The other aspect that made approx 2011-2014 the defining years of Cena’s career was the return of The Rock and Brock Lesnar as major part time attractions in WWE. Cena’s 2012 Wrestlemania main event against The Rock was probably the biggest match of his career, with a rematch the following year where he got his win back. Lesnar’s return to WWE in 2012 began with an incredible brawl with Cena at Elimination Chamber, while his squash of Cena at Summerslam 2014 also became a legendary match for just how one-sided it was. While Cena had lost feuds to the likes of Punk and Danielson, he continued to be the one who was put into these high profile matches with part-time attractions. This continued to breed resentment as he could not be dislodged as the company’s top star. Cena was in a unique position where he was clearly the biggest full time draw in WWE while also being greatly resented by the most vocal section of the fan base. In generations past, there were also sections of the fanbase who did not necessarily support the babyfaces the promotions presented to them, but in the internet era this was no longer a silent minority but a loud and expanding community. Ticket sales and ratings for shows that Cena appeared on were much stronger than when he was absent, but the overall picture for the company was one of declining business metrics. It is perhaps an argument in Cena’s favour that these metrics declined more precipitously once he receded from a full time role.

© WWE

The final portion of Cena’s full time career was defined by his open challenge matches as the United States champion, as he cycled down from the very top of the card. While many of these matches were good, I found his signature feuds of this final stretch vs Kevin Owens and AJ Styles to be greatly overrated. Coming full circle from his prior feuds with indie luminaries, the next step in Cena’s meta performance was to show that he “could wrestle” by doing what can only be described as PWG parody matches, in which Cena awkwardly attempted springboard cutters and did dozens of finisher kick outs per match. An absurd 2016 Summerslam match with Styles consisted almost entirely of finishers, near-fall kick outs, exaggerated shocked faces and long pauses in the most self-conscious attempt to have an ‘epic’ match. John Cena was walking so that Gargano, Ciampa and Cole could run. From there, Cena has made sporadic appearances, sometimes for major feuds with Roman Reigns, but largely wasted against scrubs like Solo Sikoa and Austen Theory. Now in his retirement year, Cena has finally turned heel. However, while the turn angle was incredibly well done, the subsequent creative has been poorly received and it remains to be seen whether Cena can get things back on track as he enters his final dates as a professional wrestler.

© WWE

In assessing Cena’s career, his contradictions are the most interesting thing to consider. If one was being harsh, you could argue that he failed at his job. He was a top babyface who was booed by a large section of the fanbase and represented everything that they hated about the WWE product. That this was leveraged for kayfabe feuds was a factor in keeping those fans engaged, but many either sought out other wrestling or drifted away entirely. It is fair to assume that a lot of these fans became the basis for All Elite Wrestling’s emergence as the first major alternative to WWE since the end of the Monday Night War. On the other hand, Cena’s sanitised post-2007 character was an appropriate mascot for a company that increasingly looked to charity partnerships and sponsorships to rehabilitate the image of wrestling in mainstream culture. Many younger fans likely started out watching wrestling with Cena as their favourite. As one of the few major draws of his era, Cena was a life raft for WWE, as he could keep them afloat during years where interest waned. However, one could also argue that his overbearing presence was an impediment to more interesting stars being created – whether late period Vince McMahon was capable of such booking is questionable.

As a worker, he was not the most graceful athlete – to put it lightly. Many of his moves looked awkward or poorly executed, but he was able to will himself to great matches through his charisma. All of his most important matches were like one act plays about the essence of John Cena, as a kayfabe character as well as a symbol of the company – could he overcome the odds? Could he actually wrestle? Was he going to turn heel? Would he do the job? – the sheer John Cena-ness took precedence over championships and even wins and losses. Cena played this to the hilt with overbearing pregnant pauses, looks to the crowd and dramatic facial expressions. In this sense, his work was an extension of late period Shawn Michaels melodrama, but with these meta elements added in. Feuds with Punk, Danielson and later Bray Wyatt brought the extra-kayfabe elements into text and Cena’s career became defined as a symbol of WWE’s conflict with its own fanbase in the 2010s. Cena’s style of storytelling was the next phase of development for a house style that has now evolved to include mid-match promos that explain the story beats rather than conveying them through wrestling moves.

By Conor McFall

© WWE

WWE

Backlash
10/05/25
Enterprise Center, St. Louis, USA
WrestleTix Distributed Estimate: 17,057
Watch On: Peacock / Netflix

Review by David Hayter

There is something undeniably surreal about watching a PLE in 2025 headlined by Randy Orton vs. John Cena, a main event so overexposed and at times unimaginative in-ring that the only way WWE could sell fans on another round in 2009 was to promise they would never have to see it again. Of course, WWE would renege on that stipulation in short order, and there have been multiple Orton and Cena encounters since. But there is a strange joy to be found in watching what is presumably Orton-Cena for the last time ever—a second time.

Due to the main event’s inherent emotional baggage, the final showdown between WWE’s two centrepiece stars of the noughties doesn’t have the kind of buzz that the final Michaels-Taker matches did. Orton-Cena, for all its undeniable importance, invokes either fuzzy nostalgia or bitter apathy among the broader fanbase, which is a shame as the build to the match has been nuanced. Randy Orton shrewdly highlighted Cena’s refusal to age with dignity and gently encouraged him to settle down and embrace the perspective of fatherhood that helped Randy evolve from an immature ribber to locker room leader. Cena, for his part, was given the green light to deliver the very real criticism of Randy Orton’s work rate, both in and out of the ring: labelling him as a man who did the absolute minimum with his prodigious talent and opportunities. Randy was, in short, never bad—but rarely great.

Could Cena and Orton possibly deliver in 2025?

What then of the match itself? Well, the first thing to note is that the Cena stans, dressed head-to-toe in his “Last Time Is Now” official merchandise, did not hijack this match. Unlike WrestleMania or the recent Raw in London (which I attended), there was no sizeable minority attempting to boo the babyface. Randy Orton was utterly beloved in his hometown and, while there were occasional “Let’s Go Cena” chants, there was no attempt to invert the participants’ intended roles. Randy Orton is simply immune to the kinds of crowds who relished booing Cody.
Suffice to say, St. Louis was hugely invested in the storyline, the dynamic, and—most importantly—the action in the ring. It’s impossible to overstate that final point, because unlike the disastrous main event at WrestleMania, when the referee was bumped and the overwrought and deliciously overblown drama began, no one in attendance was staring at the entranceway waiting for The Rock. Everyone was focused on Cena and Orton.

© WWE

The action itself, while performed at a pace that was glacial even by Randy Orton’s standards, was undeniably intriguing. There was a perverse pleasure in seeing the heel-face dynamic finally flipped after all these years. They cleverly played on this inversion when, after a lengthy bout of stalling and milking the crowd reactions, John Cena opened the action with an eye poke. However, they quickly established that Orton was not only willing to cheat by instantly returning the favour, but was better at the dark arts, winning every exchange that involved subterfuge.

Nevertheless, I feel this match should have come with a trigger warning, because decades of past trauma came flooding back when, for no good reason, babyface Randy Orton decided to crank on a chinlock in the early going. Granted, it mercifully lasted for less than thirty seconds, but I shudder to think how many minutes of my life have been spent watching Randy Orton cinch in a chinlock on John Cena. To be fair, Randy is actually really good at applying credible and at times creative chinlocks, but they are chinlocks nonetheless.

Mercifully, everyone appeared to be in on the joke of a match that at times felt like an avant-garde parody, as Cena and Orton began trading chinlocks to a chorus of yays and boos. Cena has talked extensively about his “toxic relationship” with the fans, but it felt like a wave of euphoric Stockholm Syndrome had washed over the entire arena. Rather than shrieking in horror, the crowd erupted in cheers as Orton unleashed possibly the slowest and most deliberate Garvin stomp of his career to date (and that’s saying something).

By the time the match began to slowly go through the gears, it was clear that the veteran pair were peaking the crowd perfectly, inciting more feverish reactions with each big spot. However, the skill gap between the workers was glaringly apparent. There are many things that John Cena does both very badly (moving fluidly or applying an STF, for example) and very well (peaking a crowd and projecting to the back row), but through two matches as a heel I think it is safe to say that Cena’s greatest sin as a pro wrestler is his complete inability to feed for a babyface. Poor Randy was perfectly positioned for his lariats and powerslam, but Cena was sluggish getting into position, bumped awkwardly, and was never quite where he needed to be.

Orton, on the other hand, displayed his notorious slickness and ring craft. In a beautiful sequence late in the match, Cena attempted to hit his combo of flying shoulder tackles for a second time. Orton sold the first one by staggering and spinning to his feet on the right-hand side and appeared to be stumbling out of position for the second tackle. An ugly collision looked imminent, but instead, it was his deft way of having a kayfabe reason to be on Cena’s left-hand side to hit a trademark RKO out of nowhere.

Once the ref was inevitably bumped—and bumped again—Randy was given multiple visual pinfalls. He was thoroughly established as the better man, putting Cena through two tables (or, well, one and a half) and even having time to RKO an entire fleet of officials while Cena lay prone. The sequence culminated with an RKO to SmackDown GM Nick Aldis (suggesting that Randy will transition away from Cena to a feud with Aldis, who has previously teased coming out of retirement to face Orton).

The crowd had reached a fever pitch at this point as Orton laid waste to everyone in his path and prepared to punt Cena. Then one of the more bizarre finishes in recent memory occurred. R-Truth (Cena’s delusional superfan) ran to the ring and blocked Orton’s path, refusing to allow Orton to kill his favourite legend. From there on in, it was academic: Cena hit a preposterously soft-looking low blow (which Orton sold superbly), and the obligatory belt shot sealed the deal.

The match wasn’t great per se (Cena’s work is actively wretched), but if you were invested in the storyline and aren’t immediately repelled by the idea of Orton-Cena in 2025, the match over-delivered in terms of drama and clearly held the crowd in the palm of its hand. For all its quirks, this main event was infinitely more enjoyable than Cena’s match with Cody Rhodes because the crowd was fully invested in the wrestling match first and foremost. Whether anyone is actually interested in WWE’s meta-commentary on toxic fandom—as R-Truth (the avatar for Cena’s legions of now middle-aged superfans) appears to be the one trapped in an unequal relationship in which Cena gives him “nothing”—remains to be seen.

© WWE

Pat plays Rocky, Cole is an unlikely Adrian, but there’s no beating Drago in St. Louis

The question going into Gunther–McAfee was how they would justify giving Pat enough offense to have a good match on a five-match card show, without making Gunther look weak. There were a handful of options available: Gunther could slip on a banana peel, injuring himself early to give Pat a route into the match; Gunther could be hubristic (refusing to take a quick victory and taking his eye off the ball); or it could be an elongated beating with multiple hope spots.

WWE opted for the latter route. The match was heavily based around storyline drama, with Michael Cole imploring Gunther to stop his methodical and indulgent beating of McAfee. Pat was given plenty of hope spots, including a neat sequence where he missed a moonsault and (just about) landed on his feet, allowing Gunther to immediately hit a release German suplex—only for Pat to land on his feet again and take over on offense.

Unfortunately, Pat was also given the opportunity to showcase his babyface-in-distress selling (which made John Cena’s facial expressions look subtle by way of comparison) and his “shoot-style” striking, which was barely more credible than Shane McMahon’s.

However, despite these athletic and “artistic” flourishes, this was not a recreation of the McAfee vs. Adam Cole match from NXT: Pat was not here to showcase every cool spot he’d learned training at home. He was here to take a beating, playing a doomed amateur Rocky Balboa. Michael Cole played both Mickey and Adrian at ringside, turning an already heated crowd white-hot as he left the booth to bang on the apron. It was of no avail; Pat fought valiantly but succumbed to the rear naked choke, as Gunther had promised on Raw.

It was fitting that a fan held up a “Please Return Ilja Dragunov” sign during this match as, while the match was remarkably effective and had the crowd living and dying with Pat’s struggle to survive, it is about time Gunther got back to putting on mat classics with elite wrestlers, rather than mixing it with ex-athletes and yeeters. If you were invested in Pat’s passionate promos and have enjoyed the build to this match, you will have greatly enjoyed a story well told. But if you came expecting a Gunther-level PPV performance and find Pat incredibly annoying, you will likely have hated the vast majority of this offering.

© WWE

Becky Lynch uses every trick in the book to put Lyra Valkyria over

On a card full of over-the-top drama, run-ins, distractions, RKOs out of nowhere, and surprise debuts, Becky Lynch and Lyra Valkyria showed that two good wrestlers, given the time and latitude, can deliver all the requisite drama and storytelling panache within the squared circle with no gimmicks or distractions.

The entire feud has been built around the “Becky Hogan” meme, which, while completely absurd, is a popular opinion among WWE’s least discerning and most online fans. Despite this reputation, Becky clearly structured this match to do everything in her power to make Lyra a star in one night. They flipped the script in this match and had the “rookie” haze and stretch the veteran by putting Becky in a variety of fancy and humiliating holds. They were quick to establish that Lyra could beat Becky to the punch (or more precisely the kick) every time. Lyra was the quicker, smarter, and more creative face of the future.

Becky smartly limited her offense to clobbering, taunting, and heel cut-off tactics. She undeniably sacrificed some match quality in order to ensure she did absolutely nothing to get cheered, but her plan worked a treat, with only one light “Becky” chant occurring during the match. This approach paid off in spades during the match’s crescendo as the crowd rallied behind Lyra as she made her comeback and came up with one creative counter after another to the Manhandle Slam. There was some undeniable awkwardness at times as the women scurried through fast-paced sequences, roll-ups, and near falls, but it was all in service of establishing Lyra as the better woman.

They threw in every tease and false finish in the book in an effort to convince the fans that Lyra was going to dominate but valiantly lose (much like Randy Orton in the main event), but instead, Lyra dominated, overcame every heel tactic imaginable, and—just when the sneaky heel roll-up finish looked to be on the cards—Lyra countered and secured the victory. All in all, this was a tremendous job well done and a masterclass from Becky Lynch in crowd manipulation and match structure—even if they did go ever so slightly long and miss the peak.

© WWE

Jeff Cobb debuts as Jacob Fatu retains the US Title

The WWE’s upper midcard is in rude health. Jacob Fatu, despite nominally being a heel, is incredibly over, but not at the expense of LA Knight. Despite showing every sign of being a potential flash in the pan, Knight has remained resilient in his popularity two years into his run, in no small part due to a transformation in the ring. Under the radar, Knight has turned from a middling walk-and-brawler into a workhorse delivering high-quality midcard title matches. This fatal four-way was no exception.

Everyone in this match was given ample opportunity to shine. The work was noticeably harder-hitting than anything else on the card and the pacing was fast and furious without losing any sense of focus. The insanity and intensity built throughout and peaked with a beautiful sequence where Drew McIntyre surprised Fatu with a spider German suplex from the top rope that sent Fatu flying through the air to hit a flipping senton on LA Knight. Jacob then rolled to his feet to hit the running hip attack on McIntyre before instantly hitting a suicide dive on Priest, who was recovering on the outside. That kickstarted a sequence of each wrestler hitting their finishers that sent the crowd into a frenzy.

The finish was noteworthy but probably the least dynamic portion of the match. Priest pulled the referee out of the ring to deny McIntyre a victory, no doubt helping further fuel Drew’s “Why always me?” persecution complex. The pair began brawling through the crowd, eventually leading to a South of Heaven off some production boxes through two tables (Drew took a nasty landing). This sequence seemed to foreshadow a potential double turn as Priest appeared the more heelish and bitter of the two. Back at ringside, Solo pulled Jacob to safety and, when LA Knight attacked, Jeff Cobb made his debut, clobbering Knight and crushing him against the ring post to set up Jacob’s ultimate victory.

It was clear that Jacob was not in on this plan, and they played off the tension between Cobb and Jacob, foreshadowing Jacob’s eventual babyface turn. This would put Cobb in the tough spot of debuting in a feud he is very likely to lose. It will be interesting to see whether Triple H will book the smaller Cobb as strongly as he has booked Fatu to date or if he will end up as a more muscular Tama Tonga.

Dominik Mysterio retains the IC Title with the help of El Grande Americano

The least noteworthy match on the card came in the form of Dominik Mysterio’s clash with Penta. The match was well worked in its own right (Dom even debuted a new flashy tope suicida into a DDT that popped the crowd), but the match was simply a backdrop to more Judgment Day drama. Finn hesitated when attacking Penta, causing the Judgment Day to briefly be foiled by both the referee and Penta, but it was merely a swerve. While the referee was busy with Finn and Carlito, El Grande Americano gave Penta a loaded headbutt, giving Dom the opportunity to hit a frog splash to retain. Finn has plausible deniability, the drama will roll on, and Penta has a new opponent in Chad Gable—one he can hopefully beat (but don’t hold your breath).

Final Thoughts

Putting the usual complaints to one side (the downtime and gaudy, low-rent commercial tie-ins), this was a well-structured show that was easy to watch, largely well wrestled, and which developed or concluded several key storylines. Despite being predictable on paper, there were some neat twists along the way—notably Jeff Cobb’s debut and Lyra beating Becky Lynch decisively. Ultimately, however, the quality of this show lies largely in your attachment to WWE’s current creative.

Gunther–McAfee and Orton–Cena almost entirely depended on the viewer being fully invested in over-the-top twists, turns, and personal melodrama. Personally, I did enjoy the build and the crowd in St. Louis clearly loved this show, but it is almost impossible to recommend Backlash to a neutral. Iyo Sky, Giulia, the Street Profits, and Seth Rollins have all delivered better matches on TV than most of what we saw on this PLE. So if the idea of watching Cena–Orton in 2025 or cheering for Pat McAfee fills you with dread, then you’d be well advised to skip this perfectly enjoyable but otherwise unremarkable PLE.

By David Hayter

Full Results

WWE United States Title:
Jacob Fatu (c) defeats LA Knight, Drew McIntyre and Damian Priest (18:14)

WWE Womens’ Intercontinental Title:
Lyra Valkyria (c) defeats Becky Lynch (18:43)

WWE Intercontinental Title:
Dominik Mysterio (c) defeats Penta (9:17)

Gunther defeats Pat McAfee (14:07)

Undisputed WWE Title:
John Cena (c) defeats Randy Orton (27:49)

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