The Unfinished Story
On a chilly night in early 2022, Cody Rhodes walked out of All Elite Wrestling for the final time. For three years he had been its heart—an Executive Vice President, a top star, a man carrying the weight of his family’s legacy into a new era of wrestling. But as he packed his bags, it wasn’t anger or betrayal etched on his face. It was something more complicated: the quiet recognition that he and AEW had grown apart.
Cody’s exit stunned fans. This was the man who helped launch the company, who cut impassioned promos about changing wrestling forever, who carried the TNT Championship like it was a world title. And yet, just three years after the company’s founding, he was gone—back to WWE, the machine he once sought to rival.
For Tony Khan, AEW’s founder and president, the departure was a wound that has never fully healed. For the industry, it left an open question: can these two men, who once trusted each other enough to build a revolution, ever reconcile?
Why Cody Walked Away
Cody Rhodes’ departure wasn’t about wins or losses. It was about identity.
Fans wanted him to turn heel. They booed him relentlessly, demanded the dark turn that has become wrestling’s standard trope. But Cody resisted. “AEW fans wanted me to turn heel so badly,” he told Ariel Helwani. “So what’s the most heelish thing I could do? Not turn heel. And in doing so, I became the biggest heel in the company.”
His refusal was noble but costly. The hero he wanted to be—especially for his young daughter—became a villain to AEW’s crowd.
At Full Gear 2019, Cody had taken himself out of the world title picture forever with a stipulation loss to Chris Jericho. It was a gesture meant to elevate others, but in practice, it locked him out of AEW’s most meaningful stories. Without the chase for the world championship, Cody’s ceiling grew lower by the month.
Then came the TNT Championship. Cody defended it proudly, producing weekly show-stealers, but soon realized he was being cast as a gatekeeper. “I didn’t want to be a gatekeeper,” he admitted later. “Every time someone new came in from WWE, I didn’t want to be the guy who had to put them over. That’s not what I wanted for myself—or for AEW.”
As one of AEW’s Executive Vice Presidents, Cody also found himself buried in corporate responsibilities—creative, recruitment, locker room disputes. What once excited him became a burden. He longed to perform without distraction, to chase the dream his father Dusty never achieved: the WWE Championship.
And so, when the opportunity came, he walked.
Tony Khan’s Evolution
Tony Khan was everything Cody wasn’t: impulsive, fiery, unfiltered. In AEW’s early days, his Twitter account became a battleground. He threw barbs at WWE, mocked competitors during press calls, leaned into the tribal “war” that made AEW feel electric.
But the years taught him restraint. By 2024, the outbursts were gone. The social media shots dried up. He chose silence over spectacle, and strategy over swagger.
“It feels like the best year ever in AEW,” Khan said in 2025. “A great time to work here… a fun place to work.”
And the numbers backed him up. Collision viewership jumped 25% after HBO Max simulcasts. Dynamite ticked up by 6.5%. AEW began to feel less like the wild upstart and more like a maturing company.
That didn’t stop WWE from fighting dirty. The company counter-programmed AEW pay-per-views, signed away stars like Jade Cargill and Ricky Starks, and even bolstered TNA to turn up the pressure. At Double or Nothing 2025, Khan didn’t hide his frustration: “It reminds me of how Jim Crockett Promotions was treated in the ’80s. But this is going to end a lot differently.”
It was a glimpse of the old Tony—passionate, defiant—but tempered by growth.
The Industry They Now Occupy
Today, WWE is as strong as it has ever been, with nearly 70 years of infrastructure, global media deals, and merchandising muscle behind it. AEW, six years old, is still fighting for those footholds—overseas TV deals, licensing partners, a permanent cultural identity.
And in the middle of this tug-of-war is Cody Rhodes, AEW’s founding father turned WWE’s most important babyface. It is a paradox he cannot escape: he thrives in the very system intent on destabilizing the company he helped build.
Why Their Reconciliation Matters
A reunion between Cody and Tony doesn’t have to be a headline. It doesn’t even have to be public. But it matters.
For Cody, it would be closure—a way to honor the work he put into AEW without bitterness. For Tony, it would be humility—an acknowledgment that he can repair relationships as well as build them. For wrestling fans, it would be a rare sign that competition doesn’t have to breed contempt.
AEW was founded to give wrestlers a platform, to let them provide for their families and create art on their own terms. Cody embodied that spirit. WWE, meanwhile, has worked to erode AEW’s foundation. Cody’s reconciliation with Tony would remind everyone that AEW’s legacy is not just about ratings or arenas—it’s about the lives it touched.
In a wrestling world dominated by tribalism, a handshake—or even a private phone call—would send a powerful message: bridges don’t have to stay burned.
The Bigger Picture
History is filled with wrestling reconciliations: Bret Hart returning to WWE after Montreal, Ultimate Warrior making peace with Vince McMahon before his passing, Hulk Hogan stepping back into the fold after years of exile. Each moment mattered not just for the people involved, but for fans who carried those scars.
Cody Rhodes and Tony Khan have a chance to write their own chapter in that history. Not as bookers and performers, not as employer and employee—but as men who once built something extraordinary together.
Closing Reflection
Wrestling is built on spectacle, but its soul comes from the relationships behind it. Cody Rhodes wanted to be more than a gatekeeper. Tony Khan wanted to be more than a loud billionaire fan. Together, they created an alternative that gave wrestlers dignity and fans hope.
Today, one leads WWE’s future and the other steers AEW’s survival. Their paths may never converge again in business. But if they find reconciliation—even quietly—it will be proof that wrestling doesn’t have to be defined by grudges.
Because in the end, the industry doesn’t need another war. It needs a bridge. And the bridge between Cody Rhodes and Tony Khan still waits to be rebuilt.
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