Sports Media's Reality TV Pivot

After twenty-three years on air, ESPN’s trivia debate show Around the Horn was cancelled. It was a show that many sports fans in my age bracket (late 30s) grew up watching for many years that, alongside Pardon the Interruption, were appointment viewing. In the final episode, host Tony Reali brought in some of the journalists that were on the panel for years for one final goodbye.

Tim Cowlishaw, a columnist for the Dallas Morning News and frequent Around the Horn panelist, made some pointed comments towards ESPN in his final appearance on the show. Cowlishaw eluded that ESPN was moving towards “hiring athletes instead of journalists”, which is a true statement as we have seen the network bring on the likes of Shannon Sharpe, Cam Newton, and Udonis Haslem to analyze games this past year.

It’s not just ESPN that is doing this. Across sports media, player-run podcasts and analysis have started to replace traditional journalism—with many consumers preferring tales from the locker room as opposed to stories told from writers. This pivot in sensibilities is similar to a sea change that we saw twenty years ago in the television space during the rise of reality TV shows. Sports media in 2025 is entering its reality TV era.

The Empowerment of the Athlete

In the age of web platforms and open distribution with podcasts, blogs, and YouTube channels, there has been an avenue for independent content creators to break through, create commentary, and offer alternative sources of coverage that previous media models did not allow. That same mechanism created an opportunity for NBA and NFL players, both active and former, to tell their stories and create platforms without the filter of a journalist or reporter.

One of the pioneers of this shift is Pat McAfee, the former Indianapolis Colts punter, who has turned his YouTube show—The Pat McAfee Show—into a sports media behemoth that is now aired on ESPN daily. Others have quickly followed his lead, and now there are podcasts hosted by players like Kevin Garnett, Jeff Teague, Gilbert Arenas, Paul George, Draymond Green, and others.

Draymond Green has called his show and other athlete-led podcasts “new media”. New media as a concept is simply athletes reclaiming the narratives of sports commentary and offering insight that only those who play the games can offer. At first, that seemed to be the case—when compared to programming that was offered on ESPN and FOX Sports One.

But as time has passed, we have seen some cracks in the foundation of the idea. Player podcasts often feel like a couple of friends just hanging out, which is a good quality in certain aspects. But it also means that difficult questions will not get answered. It’s no coincidence that since making regular appearances on The Pat McAfee Show, Aaron Rodgers has become less and less available to more traditional reporting outlets—because he knows that McAfee will not ask him any difficult questions.

Much like their “old media” counterparts, new media has also resorted to the habit of era comparison. On a recent episode of his show Podcast P, Paul George took issue with the suggestion that Indiana Pacers point guard Tyrese Haliburton is on his level as a Pacers great. George remarked that he had to face LeBron James during the Miami years, while Haliburton has had to go against the current version of the New York Knicks.

In essence, what George is saying is that his road and his era (in his prime) was more difficult than what Halliburton is playing against. This is no different than debates about Michael Jordan vs LeBron James. Those on either side of the argument will use competition and style of play as a backbone of their point, ultimately losing sight of what is happening in the present. These sorts of comments make new media and old media ultimately one in the same.

Yet despite these similarities, the stories from players about what happened in the locker room during their time in the league have won out for many fans. They no longer wanted to rely on the reports of a beat reporter or inside information from a journalist. Instead, there is a desire for realism that comes with hearing it from someone that was on the court, who can make those sorts of connections. In that way, we have simply asked for the reality TV element in sports analysis.

The Reality TV Parallel

In the early 2000s, the reality TV genre emerged. Shows like Survivor, American Idol, The Amazing Race, and others became the popular shows on TV. This is notable because in the 90s, scripted shows, it can be argued, were at their peak. Seinfeld, Friends, ER, and Sex & the City were must see programs.

But with the way certain shows (like Seinfeld and The Sopranos) ended, there was a shift in audience tendencies. Suddenly there was a craving for something more relatable. A move away from a show that was written in a way that infuriated fans and presented more spontaneity—or at least perceived spontaneity.

Reality TV offered more than just a plot. There was competition, deception, and the raw display of the human condition in a controlled environment. In short, they wanted to cut out the middleman of the creative direction and get something that was unfiltered. Networks loved this, since the costs of filming and producing a reality TV show are much more efficient than a scripted one. Similarly, with networks simply signing distribution deals with former athletes on their podcast platforms, there is no longer a need to have an army of trained journalists on staff.

Viewers and consumers of sports media, just like TV fans two decades ago, have come to crave the story behind the story. A locker room testimonial from Jeff Teague is looked at as gold, because it is coming from the source. There are no notions of grandiose storytelling or big picture implications, simply what happens in the locker room. Those stories without the filter of journalistic media training are valued as authentic and without the perceived bias that comes with journalism.

Much as viewers were tired of storylines that disappointed them on scripted TV, sports fans have grown to feel that sports media was trying to push out an agenda, talking more about the idea of a sport as opposed to the actual games that were being played. And to a certain extent, they are right. Shows like ESPN’s First Take were leading their show with commentary about LeBron James’ future while the NBA Playoffs were still going on, simply because it drove ratings.

Athlete-led podcasts can rely on the fact that people will tune in because of who is speaking rather than what they’re speaking about. Someone that is tuning into “7PM in Brooklyn” is likely tuning in because they like Carmelo Anthony—and anything that is discussed is secondary. They are there for the stories with guests like JR Smith or Iman Shumpert more than hearing Carmelo breaking down defensive matchups in a playoff series.

It is firsthand experience more than just analysis, which has led many to feel that basketball and sports analysis can only come from people who played the sport professionally. It is no different than the way that people latch on to reality television contestants and personalities.

The MTV show Teen Mom is a great example of this. In its early years, it presented the viewer with a very relatable premise: teenage pregnancy. In 2022, there were 13.6 births for every 1,000 females aged 15-19 years old. This is a decrease from previous years, meaning that the premise was even more relatable when the show first launched. Between teens that became pregnant, their partners, and their family members, the relatability of a show that chronicles the lives and decisions associated with teen pregnancy is high.

As the years went on, the subjects of the show became figures that had their own dedicated supporters, gaining social media followings to keep up with their lives. Similarly, sports fans love athletes that they root for so when they enter the content space, they follow for the personality and the real locker room stories become a reason to come back.

This sort of segmentation is great for telling great stories that previously required copious amounts of research to unearth. But it comes at a cost. When a network like ESPN or FOX senses that the sensibilities of its audience have shifted, they overcorrect to adapt—leading to a black and white approach without the needed shades of gray. The result is that storytelling in sports has been devalued.

The Loss of Storytelling

A pivot to more former player-led conversations present fans with one key advantage: understanding what it was like in between the lines. Trash talk between players, dealings with front offices, and handling fame are all part of this equation. But when zooming out and engaging in broader discussions about sports and the impact of a player or team, they often fall short.

In some ways, former players are often too close to the situation to be able to competently comment on it. It could be a grudge with a former coach or covering a team that was a former rival. There will be instances when the value derived from the former player who hasn’t taken media literacy seriously is minimal.

Journalists over the years have been able to weave stories about sports that can be critical of players, organizations, coaches, etc. There is rightful concern that a former player might be inclined to always defend the player because of the fraternity of being an elite professional athlete.

Sports is also rarely just sports. There are political implications to it, and those connections require someone that isn’t afraid to lose potential brand deals and sponsorships. The combination of what a journalist can offer and what a former athlete can offer creates a great dynamic. Because you can discuss play design with in the moment reactions, and weave in big picture topics like style of play changes and how success is measured decade over decade.

To tell the full story of sports, both are required. It has never been a black and white dynamic, but that is what networks like ESPN have treated it as. They have traded nuance for access, and the long-term impact will be seen in short order. Around the Horn was one of the last vestiges of sports journalism, featuring prominent writers that were discussing the news of the day.

Those debates sparked instant analysis and connections that come from veteran writers. Instead, ESPN and others have opted for a reality TV show focusing on lived experience of the unattainable as opposed to a measured analysis of what happened. It’s the sort of decision that leads to more views on TikTok and YouTube but comes at the cost of wide-ranging analysis. The death of Around the Horn is the Ides of March moment to the world of sports journalism—a warning that signals a shift that is now inevitable.