‘Inside the NBA' was perfect. Now let it rest in peace.

Washington Post

07-06-2025

It felt as if viewers attended a six-game wake for the 'Inside the NBA' brand last week. The final run at times seemed more like a long farewell to Ernie, Chuck, Shaq and Kenny than a showcase for the Eastern Conference finals. Still, someone must have cracked open the lid to the coffin, because its presence lives on. Which explains how, on Thursday night, Shaquille O'Neal could crash the set of ESPN/ABC's 'NBA Countdown' in Oklahoma City before Game 1 of the NBA Finals.
'Hello, Malika. Hello, Bob,' Shaq said in his baritone murmur to half of the crew. Then he gave his handheld microphone to Stephen A. Smith: 'Hold this,' he said, and pretended to throw body blows at former nemesis Kendrick Perkins. Through the surprised — and likely relieved — cackles from the personalities on set, viewers couldn't exactly make out what Perkins was yelling over his own laughter.
Shaq's cameo caught everyone off guard and provided the most pure and authentic moment of ESPN's pregame programming. It happened live on air, of course, and reminded basketball fans of the kind of unscripted chaos that TNT had perfected over the decades.
But, please, let it die already.
The show and its concept worked for that four-man crew. Nobody plays the straight man quite like Ernie Johnson. No former athlete tells the truth as savagely as Charles Barkley. No analyst has the chops to play along with the gags but also provide a measure of sobriety like Kenny 'The Jet' Smith. And there is no showman like Shaq.
They turned game nights into comedy hour with a side of NBA, and we ate up our sweet dessert every Thursday. But thanks in part to those years of treats, sports broadcasting too often now just wants to feed viewers the gooey stuff.
For the French Open, TNT has rolled out the 'MacZone' with brothers John and Patrick McEnroe, offering a hint of the 'ManningCast' with Peyton and Eli but also a needy attempt to re-create 'Inside' on red clay. With John McEnroe playing the role of a country club version of Charles Barkley, 'MacZone' has produced a mixed bag. Some viewers clearly love the brotherly banter. Others would prefer their tennis commentary with a bit more, say, tennis (and less musing about the New York Knicks, John's favorite NBA team).
In another obvious 'Inside' effort, 'NHL on TNT' feels desperate at times to create buzzy moments, with former player Paul Bissonnette as equal parts jester and analyst. Some of the biggest 'Inside' imitators are found on NBA podcasts because it seems the majority of the empty calories in sports props up the NBA conversation.
It's not just that the discourse feels negative rather than celebratory, a complaint among some current players. The talk is often so shallow. How this guy couldn't play in the golden age of ball. Or that guy needs to step up and score 30 a night. Maybe the average NBA fan has a weak palate for substance, explaining why the most popular podcasts feature ex-pros offering little about the NBA game, just spoonfuls of dated takes and sophomoric jokes.
Or perhaps, the success of 'Inside' has influenced sports broadcasting too much.
'Inside' was gold. But the show was intended as entertainment, not education about the game. Perkins, a former player and now a paid analyst for one of the league's broadcast partners, even called out 'Inside the NBA' for its casualness around the league it covers.
'Obviously they don't watch basketball,' Perkins said back in April. Those fighting words continued a rivalry between himself and Shaq and Charles. However, with the 'Inside' format moving to ESPN, they're kissing and making up in public.
But Perkins's opinion, shared only a few months ago, rang with truth. 'Inside' pulled off the irreverence and even ignorance because of the co-stars and their unmatched chemistry. In the wrong hands, however, we're left with former jocks just spilling tea from their glory days or mispronouncing the names of the current somebodies. And yet that hasn't stopped analysts or the networks they work for from trying to reproduce the inimitable and creating bad dupes that feel like Guccis found at a flea market.
During ABC's pregame show, Stephen A. Smith set the scene for viewers, explaining the teams in the most rudimentary fashion for the viewers who might not have known that the Oklahoma City Thunder remained in existence after Kevin Durant left. Then, still near the top of the telecast, the talk shifted to what makes a superstar. Nothing on Tyrese Haliburton and the zombie Indiana Pacers who keep coming back from double-digit deficits (which would have been a prelude for things to come in that exciting Game 1), nor a deeper dive into Shai Gilgeous-Alexander's MVP season. Just more fluff about a topic that matters only to the talking heads who need to fill segments with … something.
'Countdown' waited until its final segment to show clips explaining how Gilgeous-Alexander creates separation for his midrange scoring — about six minutes before the show went off the air. That was followed by the news that the Thunder was moving Cason Wallace into the starting lineup — like, real actual news. Bob Myers, the former Golden State Warriors executive who rarely looks comfortable in ESPN's contrived attempt at on-set chemistry, tried explaining why he didn't like this adjustment, made before the teams even played one minute of the Finals. He was cut off by Perkins because there needed to be a fake debate — and for all the criticism, the 'Inside' arguments never felt contrived.
'Let me ask you this: Is Cason Wallace a setback? Absolutely not,' Perkins said.
Perkins must have studied at the College of Chuck because he spends most segments trying to sound like the most resolute — and provocative — person on set. Although Perkins clearly does watch NBA basketball, his analysis can be overshadowed by his hot takes. During the Western Conference finals, Perkins gave Minnesota Timberwolves star Anthony Edwards unsolicited advice about his personal life, claiming he needed to find a wife and settle down as a family man to become the face of the league. The statement went as viral as he intended.
Charles would cross the line — and often — but he could get away with it. Why? Because his show was about having fun — old NBA veterans respecting the game just enough but never taking it or themselves too seriously. That was their pattern, and it worked.
With the 'Inside' crew, the audience knew what it was getting. Forget game analysis; we watched the most influential basketball show on television for the laughs. We didn't tune in to soak up Kenny's halftime analysis. We wanted to see whether Shaq would spin around and race Kenny to the big screen. We watched to find out whether Charles would finally know what team Garrett Temple plays for and to laugh along with him as the butt of the joke. There will never be another 'Inside,' and sports broadcasting should stop trying to create the next one.