“Mr. WrestleMania” may have been a nickname given exclusively to Shawn Michaels, among his many others, and the real owner of the moniker probably should’ve been The Undertaker, who wrestled in a record 27 matches out of the 41 total WrestleManias in history. However, no pro-wrestler throughout my fandom as a child ever felt like a better fit for the “Showcase of the Immortals” than John Cena.
Growing up, I was sickeningly obsessed with WWE. “Raw” and “SmackDown” were watched religiously in my household, and the “WWECW” version of ECW’s weekly program was even thrown into that mix, which really shows how in the thick of things I was, because that was nothing like its original iteration.
My mother consistently questioned how she felt about me watching WWE as often as I did. This was the “Ruthless Aggression Era,” after all. While the “Attitude Era” infamously had heaps of crude or sexual humor, it never had “live sex celebrations” or AEW-levels of bloodshed like Vince McMahon was pulling out on the regular in the early aughts. All the controversial television content a teenager could ask for.
The scripted nature of professional wrestling made it difficult for my parents to justify spending their hard-earned dollars on pay-per-views. Throughout my childhood, the only events we ever purchased were both in 2004 — WrestleMania 20 and that year’s Great American Bash. (Surely you’re wondering why the random night Paul Bearer was kayfabe murdered on-screen was one of those. Look, I was a massive Eddie Guerrero fan and needed to see his rematch against JBL, OK?) But 2004 also coincided with the birth of Cena’s superstardom, which poetically kicked off with the first match of WrestleMania 20.
It was Cena vs. Big Show. At the time, the erstwhile “Giant” was an absolutely horrific character through the eyes of a 9-year-old. Cena was the fearless, edgy, cool good guy, seeking his first-ever WWE title against a seemingly impossible task, and as a kid, it was impossible not to like him. Cena was a fun, fresh face who clearly had all the attributes to ascend up the roster. The match proved it when he won by hitting Big Show with the F-U — the original name of the Attitude Adjustment before WWE went PG.
Cena pulling off that feat of strength was the type of superhero moment that’d lured people to wrestling decades earlier. From that moment on, you could feel the oncoming history we were about to witness.
Timing couldn’t have been better for Cena. His transition into WWE’s main-event scene as the ultimate good guy was inevitable and came opposite JBL’s ultimate bad guy. For me, it helped add to the Cena hype that JBL had dethroned my beloved Guerrero. JBL’s world title reign was, in hindsight, brilliant and wildly underrated — I absolutely hated him as a kid, which meant he was doing his job right. But the villainous Texan finally met his match when Cena became WWE Champion at WrestleMania 21.
It was one of those peak full-circle payoffs. The time was now.
On top of the world, “Doctor of Thuganomics” singlehandedly redesigned the WWE titles at that point, which made Cena even cooler at his height. He carried almost too much main-character energy, which ultimately meant WWE’s Batman needed to meet his Joker. Because on the night Cena won the WWE title, the foundation for a legendary rivalry was laid, as longtime mid-carder Edge escaped ladder match hell and became the very first holder of the Money In the Bank briefcase.
Any place, any time, anywhere — it didn’t matter. Edge could cash in his opportunity to challenge Cena whenever he wanted. Having never seen it done before, it was difficult to imagine when the moment might come. In the eight months that followed, “The Rated-R Superstar” made it feel entirely unknown when he’d strike — until he pulled off an unthinkable heist in early 2006, cashing in and dethroning Cena after the champion’s grueling Elimination Chamber title defense. If there was anyone who made themselves more hatable than JBL, it was Edge — and he rubbed it in our face (almost literally) by having that aforementioned “live sex celebration” on TV during the following “Raw.”
Menacing stuff.
Obviously none of it was real — Edge and his partner Lita were a despicable duo built up thanks to their real-life drama with Matt Hardy — but Cena spoiled the festivities, going on to have an incredible good vs. evil feud with his all-time best rival, leading to even more unique moments that stand still in time.
The Edge feud took Cena to another stratosphere regarding his babyface status. Several of the pairings between them could qualify as Cena’s best match — or at least, my favorite — however nothing quite beats Cena’s lone true night as his greatest heel self, and it wasn’t even the original plan.
In the summer of 2006, Cena once again found himself the center of focus for a man holding a Money In the Bank briefcase when Rob Van Dam won the honors at WrestleMania 22. That same night, Cena successfully defended his title by submitting Triple H in the WrestleMania main event. There wasn’t much higher the future “Never Seen 17” could go. He battled with the biggest and best heels in the game, and now had one of his fellow most-beloved faces to work with. Something had to give.
Unlike Edge, Van Dam cashed in his briefcase with a heads-up. No shenanigans, no tomfoolery. Van Dam declared his title challenge for ECW: One Night Stand 2006, and the hype built around the unknown Cena was getting himself into. New York’s Hammerstein Ballroom turned the WWE Champion into a nuclear heel simply by knowing Cena’s presence was in the building. Van Dam was their guy, the ECW original, and a literal sign hung across the bannister to let the world know riots would ensue should he lose.
One Night Stand’s environmental element forced Cena to adapt and play into the heel he was being treated as by the hostile crowd. It was far better than anything he did in the eventual heel turn of 2025, and it only lasted for about a half-hour. But on that night versus Van Dam, we saw Cena unleashed in one of my all-time favorite matches and a must-watch for anyone who has never seen it. It’s unlike anything you’ll ever see in wrestling — and the greatest proof there is to just how versatile and brilliant it was to watch “Big Match John” in his prime.
To top it all off in stellar storytelling fashion, Cena lost when he was speared through a table by a mystery man that turned out to be Edge. It was the ultimate bizarro world where evil was good and good was evil. “RVD” came out on top, but Edge was suddenly the hero. From then on, Cena was bulletproof, needing not a world title, but collecting a record-breaking number of them anyway just because he was that damn good and deserving of them.
Eventually, the Cena fatigue certainly hit us all. I was no exception. But to say Cena didn’t deliver some of my childhood’s most fun and memorable moments would be a lie, as is likely the case for any WWE fan of that era. From jamming out to his rap album in my room to seeing him live on a random “Raw” in Portland, Cena was not only magnetic, but also one of a kind. It was an experience you had to live through to fully understand. But even for those who did, you wouldn’t have seen him anyway.
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