Let me start by asking you this: Have you ever watched a sports entertainment company try to reinvent itself and realized it’s basically trying to solve a Rubik’s Cube while blindfolded? That’s the vibe I get when looking at WWE’s handling of Gunther. The man who made John Cena tap out in what was supposed to be Cena’s final match? Now he’s facing a SmackDown GM in a midcard bout at SummerSlam. It’s a narrative curveball so sharp, it’s practically a golf ball. And honestly? I think WWE’s creative team is trying to play catch-up with a story that’s already out of their hands.
Gunther’s rise has been one of those rare moments where the universe just handed a wrestler a script written in gold. Beating Cena wasn’t just a win—it was a cultural earthquake. It proved he could dismantle icons, which is a superpower in this business. But here’s the thing: When you shock the world, you don’t just get a standing ovation. You get a spotlight that’s impossible to dim. And yet, eight months later, Gunther is still trying to climb the ladder of credibility while WWE seems to be scrambling to figure out where to place him. Is he a main eventer? A midcard threat? A villain who’s too good to be evil? The answer feels like it’s being written in invisible ink.
AJ Styles’ recent comments on The Phenomenally Retro Podcast were fascinating, not just because he’s a legend, but because he’s someone who’s seen the inner workings of wrestling storytelling. When he said, ‘I’d rather beat myself to death in that ring than be a writer for a show,’ he wasn’t just making a joke. He was highlighting the absurdity of trying to craft compelling narratives in a business that thrives on chaos. And yet, Gunther’s arc feels like a case study in how even the best scripts can fall flat when the audience is already ahead of the plot.
What makes Gunther so compelling, in my opinion, is his role as a ‘hated heel’—a term that’s been tossed around like confetti at a parade. Roman Reigns, Seth Rollins, and CM Punk are all massive stars, but none of them have the universal disdain that Gunther commands. That’s not a coincidence. It’s a calculated risk that WWE took when they brought him in. The problem? They didn’t follow through. Gunther isn’t just a villain; he’s a force of nature. And forces of nature don’t need a script—they need a stage. Right now, it feels like WWE is giving him a dressing room instead of a coliseum.
Now, let’s talk about the SummerSlam match against Nick Aldis. On paper, it’s a clash of titans. Aldis, the ex-NWA champion turned SmackDown GM, is a man who’s spent his career in the shadows of bigger names. Gunther, on the other hand, is a man who’s already outshone the biggest names in the business. But here’s the kicker: Aldis isn’t just facing Gunther—he’s facing the embodiment of a narrative that’s been ignored for too long. If Aldis wins, it’s not just a victory; it’s a statement that WWE is finally ready to let someone else take the spotlight. If Gunther wins? Well, he’ll just be another guy who’s beaten a SmackDown GM. Which, honestly, is a far cry from making Cena tap out.
What this really suggests is that WWE is in a holding pattern with Gunther. They’ve created a monster, and now they’re trying to figure out how to contain him without losing the audience’s interest. The danger here is that Gunther’s momentum is like a hurricane—once it’s gone, it’s gone. And if WWE can’t find a way to elevate him beyond the ‘hated heel’ label, they risk turning him into a cautionary tale about how to squander a once-in-a-lifetime moment. In my view, the only way forward is for WWE to stop trying to fit Gunther into existing molds and start creating new ones. Because if they don’t, they’ll end up with a star who’s too big for the story they’ve written for him—and that’s a tragedy no amount of creative meetings can fix.
