The Champ is… Gone? John Cena’s Final Curtain Call Was Everything It Needed To Be (And More)

It feels weird typing this. Like, legitimately strange. For over two decades, John Cena has been the North Star of the WWE Universe. Whether you were screaming “Let’s Go Cena!” or gleefully shouting “Cena Sucks!” until your lungs burned, he was the guy. He was the franchise. And Saturday night at the Capital One Arena in D.C., the unthinkable happened. The music stopped. The jorts were retired. The curtain finally fell.

He went out on his shield in the most spectacular, heartbreaking, and perfect way possible.

If you’ve watched wrestling for more than five minutes, you know the tradition. You go out on your back. You stare at the lights so the next guy can shine. It’s the “time-honored tradition,” as the suits like to say. But watching Cena, the man who kicked out of everything short of a nuclear blast—actually tap out? That hits different. It’s like watching Superman realize he left his cape at the dry cleaners.

The Ring General vs. The G.O.A.T.

Let’s talk about the main event. Gunther vs. Cena. This wasn’t just a match; it was a changing of the guard performed with the subtlety of a chop to the chest.

Gunther, who has now retired both Goldberg and Cena (talk about a resume builder), played his role to perfection. He was the immovable object to Cena’s unstoppable force—except this time, the force stopped. The match was a masterclass in storytelling. We saw the “Greatest of All Time” dig deep into that bag of tricks one last time. We got the Five-Knuckle Shuffle, we got the AA through the announce table (because what’s a retirement match without destroying some furniture?), and we got those agonizing moments where Cena fought out of the sleeper hold.

The crowd? Electric. They went through the full grieving process in about 25 minutes: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and finally, acceptance. Hearing “Don’t Give Up” chants morph into a respectful silence as Cena tapped out was unparalleled theater. It was the first time he’s tapped since 2005. Let that sink in.

The Kids Are Alright (Actually, They’re Better Than Alright)

Cena made sure his final night wasn’t just about the past; it was a neon-sign advertisement for the future. The undercard was stacked with young talent who clearly got the memo: Do not mess this up.

Let’s talk about Oba Femi. If you built a wrestler in a lab and gave him the charisma of a movie star, you’d get this guy. His match against Cody Rhodes might have ended in a disqualification (thanks, Drew McIntyre), but Femi looked like he belonged in the main event yesterday. The guy is 6-foot-6, moves like a cruiserweight, and hits like a freight train. When he gets the full-time call-up, everyone else better watch out.

Then there was Sol Ruca. She pulled off a win against Bayley that felt like a genuine “star is born” moment. Ruca’s offense is so athletic it almost defies physics—her cartwheel DDT is a thing of beauty. Beating a veteran like Bayley on a stage like this? That’s a rocket strap if I’ve ever seen one.

And don’t sleep on the tag match. AJ Styles and Dragon Lee vs. Je’Von Evans and Leon Slater was basically a highlight reel on fast-forward. Styles, who is inching toward his own retirement, still moves like he’s 25. But the young guns, Evans and Slater, showed zero fear.

A Farewell Fit For a King

But back to the main man. The post-match scene was where the reality set in. We saw the legends, Angle, Michaels, Punk, and Rhodes, come out to pay their respects. We saw Triple H point to the tribute video that probably made grown men cry in their living rooms.

Then, Cena did the thing. He took off the armbands. He took off the shoes. He left them in the ring. A simple gesture that screams, “I’m done. I gave you everything.”

Cena’s career has been a rollercoaster. He went from the Doctor of Thuganomics to the face of the PG era, from the most hated man in the arena to the undisputed sentimental favorite. He carried the company through transitions, weathered every storm, and showed up with a smile every single time.

Saturday night wasn’t just a wrestling match; it was a thank you card. Thank you for the Make-A-Wish visits. Thank you for the raps. Thank you for the hustle, the loyalty, and yes, even the respect.

The “Last Time” is now. And while the WWE will move on, because the show always goes on, it is going to feel a little emptier without Big Match John.