Can Sports Journalism Survive in the Era of the Athlete?
By Josh Hersh, writing for The Columbia Journalism Review…
Todd Frazier is trying to figure out how to mute himself.
It’s January, and he’s on the set of the digital show he cohosts, in the training complex—the vibe is CrossFit gym with sports-bar decor—just behind his house in suburban New Jersey. Everywhere you look are mementos from Frazier’s long career as a power-hitting third baseman for teams including the Reds and Mets: game-worn cleats, signed lineup cards, a letter from Joe Torre (then MLB’s rules czar) fining him $750 for cursing out an umpire. (“You f-ed me three f-ing times! Now you are going to throw me out?” It’s framed in the bathroom.)
“If you move the cursor over here, you just can click this button,” a producer demonstrates, pointing to one of the monitors in front of him.
Nearly three years after his last game, Frazier is still getting used to this new role. He’s dressed like a player in the offseason—a maroon long-sleeve tee, black workout pants, and no shoes. His show, Foul Territory, features Frazier as one of a rotating cast of former players who appear a couple of times a week, mostly from their homes; the main hosts are Scott Braun, a former anchor for the MLB Network, journeyman catcher Erik Kratz, and A.J. Pierzynski, a retired catcher for the Chicago White Sox. It streams every weekday on YouTube, from 1 to 3pm.
In recent years, shows like this—hosted by athletes, some retired, many not—seem to be everywhere. Tom Brady has the Let’s Go! podcast, now in its third year. The brothers Jason and Travis Kelce, both (until Jason retired this month) active NFL players, host New Heights, where they discuss everything from their most recent games to Travis’s burgeoning relationship with Taylor Swift. (“We gotta talk about it,” Jason began, apologetically.) There’s Podcast P, with Paul George; On Base, with Mookie Betts; I Am Athlete, with Brandon Marshall; Green Light with Chris Long; Bussin’ with the Boys, with Will Compton—the list goes on.
The shows are usually simply produced. Their appeal lies in offering fans the sense of being welcomed into the private spaces where athletes talk among themselves—an amiable environment of private stories and inside jokes—without adding in too many unwanted topics or uncomfortable questions. When the basketball star Nikola Jokić, who almost never grants interviews, recently appeared on Curious Mike, a video podcast hosted by his teammate Michael Porter Jr., he praised the host for asking “the best questions since I came to the NBA.”
All the fun has drawn in huge audiences—and, inevitably, lots of money. The Kelce brothers are backed by Wave Sports and Entertainment, a growing production company that boasts three athlete-led podcasts in its portfolio. (The newest, 7pm in Brooklyn, with Carmelo Anthony, launched in November.) I Am Athlete, meanwhile, has spun itself into a fully fledged media company and “fiercely restless creative studio.” (It describes its content as a “safe place for athletes, celebrities, and entertainers to one up and share their stories in their own narratives.”) The biggest of them all, The Pat McAfee Show, hosted by the former NFL punter, was licensed last year by ESPN, at a reported $85 million valuation.
Foul Territory is one of the few digital shows that focus exclusively on Major League Baseball. “I was around current and former players all day, and we’d have the same conversation all the time: ‘Where is the Pat McAfee of baseball?’” Braun told me the first time we talked. “I think football and basketball have done an incredible job of promoting their players, but for some reason that didn’t happen with baseball.”
So far, the show’s livestreams draw a modest audience, but selected clips, chopped up and digested for social media, can bring in millions of views. They’ve made news (Lance Lynn on the White Sox clubhouse culture; Trevor May on the “phantom” injured list) and landed impressive interviews, like the time former Cy Young Award-winning pitcher Corbin Burnes appeared one day after being traded in a blockbuster deal to the Baltimore Orioles. (He video-called from his car.) Last May, the show scored its first viral moment when Mets slugger Pete Alonso told the story of the time he had to use the bathroom so badly during an at-bat that he committed to swinging for the fences—or getting out—on the first pitch. “I mistimed my pregame coffee,” he said. “If I had to run the bases, honestly, I would have gotten picked off on purpose.” (The guys now refer to the saga as the “poop homer.”) Foul Territory, Frazier says, is all about creating space for moments like that to occur. “There’s nothing really for us like this,” he said.
Braun has arrived on the set—he lives in Florida but travels constantly for the show—and is settling into his seat next to Frazier. During shows, he’s the well-informed voice of reason, keeping the conversation flowing and navigating the transitions between segments; Pierzynski, who was once voted the “most hated” player in the game, is “not afraid to ask anything,” Frazier said.
Today’s guests include Rowdy Tellez, a first baseman for the Pittsburgh Pirates, and Todd Kalas, the Astros’ play-by-play announcer. The producer retreats into his soundproof control room—a portable sauna, positioned just out of sight of the cameras.
In Braun’s and Frazier’s ears, another producer, sitting in her home on a video call, urges the guys to stop their chitchatting.
“All right, gang,” she says. “Three, two, one… and we’re live.”
For nearly as long as sports have been televised, athletes have sought to stay in the spotlight by retiring into the broadcast booth. Former players bring unique insight and direct knowledge of the things taking place in front of them—or those about to. When Tony Romo, the former Cowboys quarterback, debuted as a color commentator, on CBS in 2017, he stunned audiences by correctly predicting a number of plays based solely on the offensive and defensive formations.
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