True Story Of WWE's Summer of Punk

On June 27, 2011, ardent WWE fans believed the organisation was on the brink of a major creative breakthrough. After more than three years of trotting out a sanitised, advertiser-friendly product with painfully simplistic caricatures, cult favourite CM Punk sat down on the entrance stage, stared through the constructed facade, and began firing off one jagged truth after another.

Though he'd been on WWE's main roster for five years, and had already held several world titles, *this* moment felt like Punk's ascension into WWE's tier of immortals. It's a moment that lives on in wrestling legend as an unforgettable, "Where were you when..." occurrence. Yet, the momentum that was created by this watershed incident failed to usher in positive change. The "pipe bomb" was hardly a dud, but the explosion was noticeably contained.

This is the true story of WWE’s Summer of Punk. 

WWE in the first half of 2011 wasn't exactly the shining beacon of pro wrestling idealised. Outside of The Rock making a grand return to reclaim the dormant mantle of "Most Electrifying Man in Sports Entertainment", so much of WWE just felt so plain and stale, not to mention underwhelming. Some of that was out of WWE's hands, like Edge's sudden retirement due to spinal issues, and the just-debuted Kharma having to step away due to pregnancy. Conscious choices by those in control continued to pluck at the nerves of the audience, however. 

WrestleMania 27 was, by and large, a critical flop, due to a poor WWE Title match between John Cena and The Miz, and arguably the worst WrestleMania match ever between Jerry Lawler vs. Michael Cole. The Cole/Lawler feud, on top of Cole's insufferable pro-heel commentary, was imbued with a special kind of go-away heat. 

Following WWE’s biggest show of the year, Christian’s emotional run to claim the World Heavyweight Title vacated by his best friend Edge was low-bridged by another Randy Orton push, a frustrating reinforcement of business as usual.

Inbound lucha icon Sin Cara, meanwhile, failed to dazzle on the level of a Rey Mysterio, and his botch-laden matches (along with reported poor attitude) made all of that hype a waste. Factions like The Nexus and The Corre barely made traction, while the women's division was relegated to blink-and-you-miss-them TV matches. There was also the bad comedy, and the general mouldiness of a product fixated on carrying out the "same old, same old".

Then there was John Cena, the old reliable in more than one sense. To WWE, its associated charities, and many of the company's school-age fans, Cena was the reliable face of the company, the true blue superhero that carried this era the way Hogan did the 1980s. To Cena's detractors, though, the overly enthusiastic, absurdly costumed, utterly invincible WWE star was the embodiment of a company they'd grown to resent.

The Attitude and Ruthless Aggression kids and young adults were ageing, but the firmly PG WWE wasn't ageing with them. Cena had been booed out of arenas by the more vocal fans for close to six years, and yet he was the most marketable full-time star under the company's roof. Quite the paradox.

For a variety of reasons, Cena was the most polarising top guy that had ever reached the WWE apex. For those who loathed John Cena's disinfected, technicolour WWE, they craved an antidote, and one was readily available.

From the time CM Punk arrived on the WWE main roster in 2006, he was an affront to the status quo. Just his existence in WWE canon, as a non-roided, non-heavyweight indy standout felt divergent - especially since his name and central character remained in tact.

To anyone at least a bit jaded by WWE's stranglehold on North American wrestling (and how their product was meted out), Punk's presence on the ECW brand felt like a positive infiltration. Punk being on ECW was quite apropos: even as WWE stripped away the corrosive flavour that made ECW a true alternative, a unique and self-made cult favourite like Punk remained the realest, most authentic part of the once-hip brand.

In other words, a lot of fans came to view Punk as a different sort of "old reliable" - when wrestling sucked, Punk didn’t. For close to five years, Punk managed to shine, even when he wasn't standing beneath the primary spotlight. Whether he was getting the loudest cheers on a Survivor Series team filled with more established names, or reigning supreme as ECW Champion, or smugly extolling the virtues of straight-edge pride, Punk acted as an avatar for a considerable portion of the WWE audience.

He sometimes felt like the lone human in a sea of artificial cliches. For that reason, Punk was usually the most relatable inhabitant in the entire WWE "universe", and he represented the fans whose tastes weren't always being met. In other words, he was the “voice of the voiceless.” 

For the first half of 2011, Punk was situated as a heel, leading a less-potent version of The Nexus, and eating the pin from Randy Orton in some high-profile matches. Not the most rewarding phase of Punk's career, but he could easily be reheated at the drop of a hat, with little damage to his credibility.

Good thing, too, because on June 20, 2011, Punk became the focal point of one of WWE's most ambitious storylines in a long time.

After having defeated reigning champion John Cena in a non-title match the previous week, as well as Rey Mysterio at the Capitol Punishment pay-per-view, Punk demanded a championship match, and threatened to hijack the show if his demand wasn't met. What he got was an official number-one contender's bout pitting him against Mysterio and Alberto Del Rio for that night. Punk ended up victorious after pinning Del Rio, but the fact that he'd earned a title shot wasn't the biggest story.

The bigger story was that CM Punk was leaving WWE.

While the whole thing worked out for the angle, there was a lot of truth to it. On his infamous Art of Wrestling podcast appearance with Colt Cabana in 2014, Punk admitted that he legitimately planned on leaving in the Summer of 2011 at the expiration of his contract, due to burnout and general dissatisfaction. At the time, WWE creative was under the impression that Punk actually *was* finishing up after Money in the Bank.

As the woven story went, a spiteful Punk vowed to win the WWE Championship at the pay-per-view, in his native Chicago, and then leave the company with their top prize.

Longtime Ring of Honor fans knew the parallel, as in 2005, Punk won their championship on what was supposed to be his last night in ROH before jumping to WWE. A feel-good moment turned dark when Punk (a sworn hero at the time of his victory) announced his intentions to bring their championship to WWE. This led to some tense title defences after the fact, and a devilish angle in which Punk signed his WWE contract on top of the ROH belt.

In CM Punk's pre-WWE highlight reel, his best character work is visible in those vivid scenes. The question was, would the WWE version stir up similar shock and intrigue? We’d find out one week later.

On the June 27 episode of Raw in Las Vegas, the show closed with John Cena battling R-Truth in a non-title Table Match. Punk played a hand in costing Cena the match, which set the stage for Punk to deliver what is arguably his piece de resistance.

As Cena lay amid the ruins of a shattered table, Punk sat down on the entrance stage, wearing a Stone Cold t-shirt. Fifteen years earlier, at the 1996 King of the Ring, Steve Austin subverted scripture when he spat out his oft-imitated "Austin 3:16" promo, the launching pad for the Rattlesnake's ultimate rise.

Now it was Punk's turn to deliver an era-defining promo. With the mic in hand, Punk spoke calmly to the wincing WWE Champion, first about the long line of corporate ass-kissers that Cena had become a part of. Then he name-dropped Paul Heyman and Brock Lesnar, at a time when neither man was part of WWE. A cheeky nod to the breaking of the "fourth wall" was an explicit hint that Punk was getting ready to "go there."

In what became known in wrestling vernacular as the "pipe bomb", Punk lambasted everything from part-time Rock headlining WrestleMania, to disingenuous fans, to restrictions on career advancement within WWE, to the overall sorry state of the once-thriving promotion. He even took time to insult the McMahon family personally, believing them to be blind and incompetent.

The response in the arena was mixed, but there were many vociferous cheers, signalling a lack of consensus endorsement towards the organisation those fans were patronising. Punk did take time to chastise those cheering fans, who he assumed would continue pouring money into WWE, in spite of him leaving under any acrimonious circumstances.

Ultimately, Punk's mic cut off after nearly five uninterrupted minutes. While Punk belligerently yelled about the attempt at silencing him, the show abruptly faded to black, without the appearance of a copyright bug on screen.

The promo went on for far too long for it to be anything but a constructed and approved storyline. That didn't stop some from believing that Punk's speech was a legitimate shoot, however. Meanwhile, others understood that it was a work but that didn't stop them from being intrigued. That was the brilliance of the promo; those who believed thought they were witnessing history and those who knew it was a work *knew* they were witnessing history.

The WWE of 2011 just didn't run angles like this. There was nothing safe, ironic, cutesy, or cliched about Punk venting understandable frustrations against the company in the manner that he did. If WWE had become a sugary, inoffensive 1980s sitcom, the "pipe bomb" was a stark departure from the ending freeze frame of everybody mid-laugh.

The intrigue was high for when the other shoe dropped. The following week's Raw was taped the same night as the "pipe bomb", due to WWE embarking on a tour of Australia shortly after. Punk did not appear as part of the card, due to being "suspended" for his caustic remarks during the promo. To go along with the suspension, Punk was removed from the title match at Money in the Bank.

The story continued with Cena lobbying for WWE to reinstate Punk, arguing that the championship was worthless if he couldn't defend it against a worthy contender like Punk. Cena figuratively backed McMahon into a corner, and even handed him the belt in disgust before McMahon finally acquiesced. Though he feared losing the WWE Title to another promotion, he agreed to reinstate Punk and the title match, but with an added bit of drama - if Cena lost the belt, then Cena would be fired.

The go-home segment on the July 11 episode of Raw saw Punk and McMahon take part in an in-ring contract negotiation, in which Punk tried to see how far he could push his desperate boss. Before the "pipe bomb" speech was delivered two weeks earlier, Punk was unambiguously a heel. But Punk's tirade struck enough of a chord, displaying enough brutal honesty that fans viewed him more and more as the most sincere voice in a rigged cartoon. It was hard to boo Punk for plainly telling it the way it was.

That's why it was a bit disheartening to see Punk play "selfish heel" during his segment with Vince. While Punk was still getting plenty of cheers for his skewering of the boss, his scripted contract demands were lavish and ego-driven, though the appeal for WWE ice cream bars was one most could agree on. Eventually, Punk ran off like the analogical "scolded dog" when Cena struck him in the head during a show-ending spat. Not exactly Austin 3:16 stalking a gun-toting Brian Pillman.

At the time of the go-home Raw, however, it appeared Punk had not yet inked a new deal with WWE. Ultimately, though, Punk did sign a three-year contract to stay, which he says he, "talked [himself] into". Punk claims he didn't sign his new deal until midway through the pay-per-view. Whatever the case may be, perhaps having Punk show off decidedly un-babyface characteristics on the July 11 Raw was the smartest play for the company, regardless of crowd response.

None of that mattered once WWE hit up Chicago on July 17, because to the Chi-town faithful, there was no bigger star on planet Earth than CM Punk. Feverish noise filled the air in anticipation of the main event, and when "This Fire Burns" blared, the roof nearly blew off the Allstate Arena. The man cast as a WWE traitor received a hometown welcome like few before it, in spite of the story, or perhaps even because of it.

The 33-minute title match had everything, from nifty wrestling and counters, to big spots, to tense near falls, to an even more tense tease of a screwjob. On a night when men fell from ladders ad nauseam, the real high drama came from the most well-defined characters.

In the end, the line-walking Cena prevented John Laurinaitis from screwing Punk over, refusing to take the tainted victory. It proved to be his undoing as Punk "thanked" him for his generosity by immediately blasting him to hell with the GTS. One three count later, and Punk had conquered the world.

And there was no, "Yes, but..." on this night. An attempt to dispatch a briefcase-wielding Del Rio to fell the new champion didn't work, and a jubilant Punk simply left the arena in his wake, getting cheered all the while. The final images of Money in the Bank were of a disconsolate McMahon, and a triumphant antihero, venturing off into the sunset.

Largely on the strength of the main event, but with an impressive undercard nonetheless, the 2011 Money in the Bank is often ranked among the greatest pay-per-views in WWE history, and is considered the best non-Big Four event in the company's annals. Both Dave Meltzer and Wade Keller awarded Punk vs. Cena five stars, and many fans arrived at that same conclusion. The pay-per-view did 195,000 buys, up 18 per cent from the previous year's Money in the Bank.

So many questions lingered in the fallout of such a monumental night. What would Punk do next? When would he show up again? Where might he go? What will WWE do without a champion? What will become of Cena?

The next night on Raw, Punk's name became verboten in WWE, so sayeth McMahon. He ordered a tournament to crown a new champion in Punk's place, before getting ready to deal with the man who let him down in Cena.

Before Vince could fire Cena, though, Triple H magically swooped in. Speaking on behalf of the invisible board of directors, Triple H informed his father-in-law that he was being relieved of his duties as overseer of operations, due to his recent spate of rash decision-making. 

That same week, Punk kept up appearances away from WWE, showing up at a baseball game pitting his Chicago Cubs against the Philadelphia Phillies, hassling Triple H at San Diego Comic-Con, and even appearing at an AAW event to endorse inspirational wrestler Gregory Iron.

As for Cena, eight nights after losing the WWE Title in one of the most historic matches in WWE history, he was champion again. Rey Mysterio opened the July 25 Raw by winning the tournament to crown a new titleholder, only to be immediately challenged by Big Match John. That same night, Cena defeated a man who'd already wrestled a latently-gruelling match to heroically become champion once more.

Then Cena's celebration was short-lived - because the sudden playing of "Cult of Personality" heralded the arrival of CM Punk, with the genuine WWE Title. The two then took turns raising their belts to different crowd responses. All of these big moments crammed into just eight days, mind you.

Punk explained that he returned in order to inflict further change upon the corrupt and unjust WWE, and with Vince out of the picture, the iconoclast had already brought down one obstructive pillar.

With Vince gone, Triple H assumed the role of headstrong suit, and this is where good faith seemed to slowly dissipate. Wrestlers of all walks who matched up with the influential Paul Levesque had a tendency to get low-bridged and short-changed, and that was the last thing that a hot act like CM Punk needed.

A Punk-Cena rematch was made for SummerSlam as a unification bout, with Triple H inserted as the guest referee. After the smash hit that was Money in the Bank, Triple H's looming shadow cast doubts that WWE was going to keep the rollicking momentum going.

To the surprise of quite a few, Punk ended up winning the SummerSlam match, after Triple H missed Cena's foot on the bottom rope during the deciding pinfall. Punk won again, but absent was the cathartic exultation of his triumph in Chicago.

Also absent was the night ending with Punk as the top guy. Out of the blue, Punk was jumped by Kevin Nash during the show-ending celebration, and left lying following a Jackknife powerbomb. One Del Rio cash-in later, and the unified titles were no longer in Punk's mitts.

This led to a bizarre mystery in which Nash claimed to have received a text from Triple H, ordering him to jump the winner of the main event, regardless of who it was. Triple H denied sending the text, but it hardly mattered.

The angle degenerated into a muddled mess, with Nash struggling to make his stilted, scripted dialogue work, and the momentum of Punk's star turn slowly fizzling. It seemed for all the world that Punk was saddled with a side mission, especially once Cena defeated Punk in a number one contender's match, following a Nash distraction.

Punk was stuck with Nash and Triple H, while Cena chased champion Del Rio. Somehow, watching Punk make "old man" and "constantly injured" jokes about 52-year-old "Big Sexy" wasn't as salacious or interesting as seeing Punk take on the WWE status quo.

Punk was supposed to wrestle Nash at September's Night of Champions, as a payoff to the month-long animosity. Instead, after weeks and weeks of Nash getting the physical upper hand on Punk, Nash was unable to gain medical clearance for the match.

To write Nash out, Triple H fired him, after it was revealed that Nash snuck into HHH's office at SummerSlam and sent the damning text himself. Then Triple H slugged Nash, inflicting more damage on his Kliq brother in one try than Punk managed in three weeks.

The match for Night of Champions suddenly pivoted to Punk vs. Triple H, which Punk lost following multiple Pedigrees, and an excessive amount of interference from Nash, The Miz, R-Truth, and John Laurinaitis. Punk still lost to a 42-year-old part-timer who wasn't being counted on to infuse the main event with fresh blood.

As the so-called "Summer of Punk" gave way to the "Autumn of Punk" (more aptly, the "Fall of Punk"), the talk of the summer was taking the fall in a triple threat Hell in a Cell match for the WWE Championship against Alberto Del Rio and John Cena. Punk was later seen buddying up to Triple H on the first Raw following the infamous roster walkout, all too happy to wear Triple H's blazer and do commentary.

As if the "blazer" moment wasn't inane enough, Triple H noted that the commentary table was all set up for Punk to do one of his little pipe bombs, thus taking one of the highlights of the year, and casually dismissing the historic moment as a silly little quirk that sometimes rears itself.

Punk went on to team with Triple H at Vengeance against R-Truth and The Miz. Once more, it was Punk who took the fall.

In what felt like a bone being thrown, Punk regained the WWE Title a month later, defeating Alberto Del Rio inside Madison Square Garden at Survivor Series (complete with a feelgood Howard Finkel cameo). Though he'd go on to reign with the gold for 14 months, he only main-evented five of the next 14 pay-per-views, often playing second fiddle to whatever Cena or a returning Brock Lesnar were doing that month.

At no point during Punk's mammoth reign (during which he suddenly turned heel, against most fan wishes) did Punk recapture the lightning of the "pipe bomb", the million-dollar moment that blurred lines and shook fans from their tempered expectations.

While Punk kicked off what was ultimately the world's longest lame-duck reign, it was Triple H that vanquished Nash at the 2011 TLC, closing the book on one of the most lacklustre "legend" returns of the modern era.

Punk admitted in that Art of Wrestling interview that the day he walked out of WWE in 2014, he told Triple H: "I seriously resent you for not putting me over three years ago when you should have. That would have been best for business but you had to f*cking come in and squash it. And then I had to lose to f*cking Truth and Miz. It didn't make any business sense then, it doesn't make any business sense now."

Jim Ross even spoke up in 2019, saying that Triple H was fixated on the fact that Punk supposedly didn't have the look of a champion, owing to his leaner body. Amid his incredulous recollection of Paul Levesque's reported knocks on Punk's appearance, Ross said, "Wait a minute, where are we here? What are we doing? The crowd is telling you, this guy’s over."

When viewing that "Summer of Punk" through a wider lens, it's all pretty mystifying. WWE was handed a headline-grabbing star in the prime of his life, and with the necessary eloquence to be relatable in greater media. They managed to snuff out all of the momentum in just a few months.

Even something ground-shaking like CM Punk taking the machine to task wasn't immune to regression toward an all-too-familiar mean, especially an accelerated regression.

In 2011, the "Summer of Punk" was gearing up to be the season of seasons. Instead, like so much in an unchallenged WWE, the idea was far more romantic than the finished product.