The last time is now for John Cena, who battled Gunther on Saturday Night’s Main Event. Tyler Hinton predicted the possibilities of Cena’s Farewell Tour all the way back in 2024. Now, as is only fitting, he breaks the news and the hearts of fans: here’s what happened in John Cena’s final WWE match.
The lights dim to black; a shadow-masked figure appears. Symphony No.9 booms alongside boos as Gunther enters the ring as John Cena’s final opponent. Ominous, stoic, unphased by the occasion.
Cena’s music hits, we’re here. It’s the moment we’ve dreaded, the moment he’s dreaded. 23 years-worth of jubilance, despair, heroics, glory all bottled up. “Let’s go to work.”
A cocky Gunther marches round his sacred mat, exiting the ring. Attempting to silence a raucous DC, impossible. This is the last time after all.
Cena, with the weight of legacy upon his shoulders, crumbles to several gruesome chops courtesy of the Austrian terminator. He’s manhandled: beaten, battered and bruised.
Gunther swings another jet-wing like arm at Cena, this time read and caught with precision. The veteran showing experience, more importantly, showing signs of life.
Shoulder tackle…shoulder tackle, swing and a miss, back body drop. Hand in the air, tears in our eyes: “You Can’t See Me!” Five Knuckle Shuffle. Cena’s AA, attempt snuffed by Gunther, who, with a German suplex, sends Cena flying to the opposite corner of the ring, and back to the drawing board.
The Austrians game plan is simple; he wants to force Cena to do something inherently against his DNA. The opposite of what Cena preaches. Something Cena has not done for 20 years. He wants Cena to quit. Gunther’s objective is to make John Cena tap out.
Cena survives the onslaught, supported by DC’s passion, driven by his inner resilience. He wriggles away from Gunther long enough to plant the giant with an AA. Not enough.
Cena has mere seconds to enjoy his spell of dominance before being snatched into a sleeper. A suffocating Cena escapes and applies his own sleeper on Gunther, who manages to reach the bottom rope, with his left size 14, to break the hold.
Arrogance draining by the second, Gunther seeks respite on the outside. Cena, reluctant to lose precious time, charges ahead. Yet, he’s greeted by a chest-caving chop, before being violently tossed into the steel steps.
Gunther sets up the steel steps in front of the announce table. He climbs to the peak, and drinks in the hatred from the crowd. Gunther gloats too long however, as Cena has made his way up beside him. “Big Match” John hoists 250 pounds of man onto his shoulders, dropping Gunther on his back, obliterating the announce table with a thunderous AA.
Cena rolls his wounded opponent into the ring, and crawls into the cover. Not enough.
Cena desperately finds himself on the top rope. He leaps off, hitting Gunther with a leg drop. Not enough.
Cena attempts another five-knuckle shuffle, but Gunther too smart, too cunning, meets Cena halfway with a flying dropkick. Gunther mounts the top turnbuckle and looks towards Cena, who’s closer than he realised. Cena smashes Gunther with an uppercut.
Both men now teetering on the turnbuckles. Cena, inventively, positions Gunther on his shoulder, planting him with another AA, this time from height. Not enough.
Cena, drowned in frustration, overwhelmed with confusion, has nothing more to give. Gunther wraps his arms around the “never seen 17”, once again intending to incapacitate Cena with a sleeper. Cena defies, reaching his feet with Gunther on his back, back pedalling into the turnbuckles to freedom.
Freedom a short-lived luxury, as Gunther rapidly re-applies. Cena is drifting, his consciousness walking a tight rope. He battles once more to his feet, Gunther remains on his back, this time it’s the opposite turnbuckle used to grant Cena separation.
Learning from his prior complacency, Cena completes another AA. Not enough.
Retired in mind, Cena casts a glazed look down the hard cam. Almost apologetic in his eye contact. His opponent rises, and locks Cena back into a sleeper.
His complexion paling, eyes squinting to nothingness, out cold. The referee picks up his arm, it drops. The arm lifted again, it limply folds. A third time, stiff, stubborn and signature. Cena is still in this.
Gunther releases and mechanically drives his elbow into the neck of Cena. Multiple merciless, monstrous blows, each one more devastating than the last.
Gunther swallows Cena into that sleeper again. This time dropping to the ground. Engulfing Cena by wrapping his legs over his opponents near lifeless body. The odd squirm, a slight shiver, but no scramble in sight. Cena, sub/semi/un-consciously smiles, before gently tapping out.
Cena fades to defeat. A challenge to mighty to overcome. A giant fuelled all too much by hatred, for even hustle, loyalty and respect to conquer.
A courageous curtain call, in the career of a generation-transcending great. It might not have been enough tonight, but the last 23 years makes up for it. Memories cemented in the annals. Nostalgia that will never die. A hero on too many levels.
The last time has passed, Thank you John Cena.
