“Temptation is the fire that brings up the scum of the heart.” — William Shakespeare
As I’ve grown older and more seasoned in my journey as a storyteller, I often ask myself: Why do I still watch pro wrestling? At the end of the day, it’s just sweaty men in spandex throwing worked punches. And let’s be real — wrestling has produced some of the most offensive, tone-deaf storytelling in history.
Take Fritz Von Erich, for example — the patriarch of the legendary Von Erich wrestling family. His gimmick? A literal Nazi. Brown shirt and all. To his credit, he abandoned the character when he realized there was more money in promoting his sons, but that doesn’t erase how wild and disturbing that chapter of wrestling’s past truly was.
Yet, despite all that, WWE’s Elimination Chamber event in Toronto delivered one of the most shocking moments I’ve witnessed since Darth Vader uttered, “I am your father.”
Think about Star Wars. The original trilogy is, at its heart, about a hero resisting the pull of darkness. Luke Skywalker faced temptation, yet never gave in. And in the sequel trilogy, we see that his unshakable goodness left him bitter and broken.
In many ways, John Cena is WWE’s Luke Skywalker.
For over two decades, Cena was the good guy — the face of WWE. With his jorts, his brightly colored merch (which made him a fortune), and his mantra of Hustle, Loyalty, Respect, he was the embodiment of heroism. For Millennials, he was what Hulk Hogan was to my fellow Gen X’ers.
Hogan, of course, dominated the ’80s wrestling scene. But by the early ’90s, fans had grown tired of his act. Then came July 1996. When he dropped a leg on Macho Man Randy Savage and “betrayed WCW,” as Bobby Heenan famously screamed, it changed everything.
Of course, thanks to Hogan’s backstage politicking, his villain run became bloated, self-indulgent, and overplayed. But for that one moment? It was electric.
That’s why what John Cena did at Elimination Chamber was so monumental. Fans had been begging for a Cena heel turn for years, but with this being his farewell tour, no one thought WWE would actually pull the trigger.
But damn it, they did. And for a second, I felt like a kid again.
Orchestrated by The Final Boss — The Rock — Cena turned his back on Cody Rhodes, the ultimate babyface, after Rhodes rejected The Rock’s offer to join him on the dark side and told him to go F himself. It was a betrayal straight out of a Shakespearean tragedy.
Side note: Cody’s uncensored F bomb was particularly wild.
Think about Star Wars again. Who was the real puppet master? Not Luke. Not Vader.
It was Emperor Palpatine.
And in WWE, The Final Boss is Palpatine.
Yes, wrestling can be absurd. The current Women’s U.S. Champion is Canadian and her valet is British. That same valet (an accomplished wrestler in her own right) recently dressed up like a Mountie on TV. But you know what? I find that ridiculously entertaining.
And then you have real blood feuds, like Sami Zayn and Kevin Owens — two men who are practically brothers in real life but sworn enemies on screen.
But John Cena’s fall to the dark side? That was next-level storytelling.
It just made the Road to WrestleMania 41 infinitely more compelling, and I can’t wait to see what happens next.
Stay tuned for more story reviews, and don’t forget to catch my thoughts — along with our panel’s — on the Wrasslin’ Wroundtable Podcast, dropping every Monday.
