First Things First Nick Wright Credit: First Things First on FS1
FoxBy Brendon Kleen on

It took a while for FS1 to realize what it had in Nick Wright.

When the network plucked a Colin Cowherd-approved youngster out of Houston to host a show with Cris Carter in 2017, the odd fit made that clear. Carter was out two years later, and as First Things First cycled through hosts and time slots, Wright and his show seemed destined for the fate that so many other sports shows suffer when they don’t get investment or continuity.

After four years, FS1 tried a hail mary. The network paired Wright with a former TV producer and NBA insider from ESPN — and it stuck. Since then, Wright, Chris Broussard, Kevin Wildes, and the FTF crew have grown the audience, learned from each other to a T, and become one of the most entertaining daytime shows anywhere. In the process, they have solved the sports debate show.

Everything you think you know about a sports show on FS1 is true. They trade production value for volume. Each one features entirely too much NFL talk and a retired athlete or two you probably forgot about. The casts might as well be playing a bicoastal game of musical chairs. For whatever reason, there is almost no overlap between FS1 and the vast roster of talented game broadcasters at Fox Sports.

Against all odds, FTF flips a stale formula into a refreshing product that stands out. It doesn’t give into the confines of its network’s strategy or the ordinary routines of sports talk. Wright, Broussard, and Wildes turn debate into character development and subtly tuck the best synergy on sports television into debates that manage to always feel real. They make FTF an unpredictable joy.

You never really know if entertainers assigned to work together really get along, but the guys on FS1 are convincing. Recent FS1 hire Danny Parkins, who has guested on FTF in the past, has called FTF a “chemistry show,” and its hosts do more than just stay off each other’s nerves. They telekinetically swerve in and out of old-school sports yelling, moving between fierce arguments, and goofing around until the audience gives in to the fun.

Each host gives and takes from the other, a true case study of what it means for a show to be better than the sum of its parts. In recurring bits like Wright’s NBA “Club Superstar” or NFL quarterback tiers “Mahomes Mountain,” he gets to opine and be bold to his heart’s content — until the metronome tilts toward his cohosts. Then, it’s open season. Wildes and Broussard are an avatar for the audience, flexing between being incredulous or outright incensed at whatever insane thing Wright said in that segment — like that Caleb Williams and the Chicago Bears would make the Super Bowl.

They get their own chances to shine as well. In the “BUD List” (which stands for Broussard’s Under Duress List), Broussard gets to let loose with sports talk go-to’s like hot seats and must-wins. Every day, Wildes channels his prankster side in “Weird and Wonderful,” where he riffs through the highlights and lowlights of the previous night’s games. From the sidelines of those bits, Wright gets to let his hair down and play a different character from his typical take artist.

As with Wildes’ beloved New England Patriots, FTF only works because everyone is willing to sacrifice. Wright is the only holdover on the show and its star, but he has proven to be more humble than his fellow sports debaters. After all, the man openly states his goal on TV is to make arguments so ironclad they are literally impossible to refute. Wildes and Broussard put up with that, but they also know how to pick their spots and needle Wright back. No matter how animated he may get, Wright consistently proves he can take it just like he dishes it — unlike many of the other leading men on sports TV.

More than just sparring partners, Wildes and Broussard have mastered how to balance a big personality like Wright. Wildes was an on-camera rookie best known for “Half-Baked Ideas” on The Bill Simmons Podcast and producing TV for ESPN before joining FTF in 2020. Broussard dodged ESPN execs who wanted to make him an insider for an uncertain role at FS1 that was probably never supposed to be FTF. They both adhere to a pecking order beneath Wright without being limited by it.

When regular guests Eric Mangini or Greg Jennings join the show, they are even more rankled by Wright’s antics than his cohosts. FS1 doesn’t have the guest stable of its counterparts at the worldwide leader or even the podcast world, but FTF provides a vibe that is easy to ride. At the very least, Mangini and Jennings understand the mission is to entertain and not get in the way.

Beyond all its unique personal dynamics, FTF is just flat-out silly in the best way. Among the many props and pranks you might see when you tune into FTF are massive sub sandwiches, hip-hop squads, marching bands, and various whiteboards and banners to illustrate the Ws and Ls of the hosts and their teams. Without taking calls or reading the results of social media polls, FTF brings the alchemy of talk radio to television.

Impressively, FTF can go high just as well as it goes low. FS1 typically avoids highbrow sports topics, but FTF has clearly earned the freedom to wander into them when the moment calls for it. One example came after the Kansas City Chiefs Super Bowl parade shooting earlier this year, where FTF was broadcasting on-site. The following day, the hosts recounted their experience with real, personal perspective. Day to day, the FTF more than holds its own weighing in on the big stuff. Conversations this year on Angel Reese’s experience with social media hate or MLB’s homage to the Negro Leagues were genuine and nuanced.

Like everything on FS1, FTF‘s ratings pale against ESPN. That’s what happens when fewer people have access to your network. But more and more people watch the show each month, FS1 just extended it by a half-hour, and it does quite well in podcast and YouTube form. Sports fans listen when Wright talks, but the show appears to have a loyal following beyond the takes.

A smaller audience doesn’t mean FTF is worse than its ESPN counterparts. There are only a handful of ESPN shows that can hold a candle to FTF, and it’s not the ones hosted by guys named Stephen A. or Greeny. FTF is beating the “embrace debate” originalists at their own game, taking the baton from First Take and Undisputed by understanding what is great about that format — and what holds it back.

Most debate shows are convoluted, exhausting, and way too loud. The secret to what makes them work is that the hosts know that, too. They’re giving you what they think you want. Perhaps FTF is post-debate. It looks and walks like a debate show, but the hosts don’t allow themselves to be reduced to caricatures others spend years miming.

On FTF, the medium is not the message. Wright, Wildes, and Broussard know how to work within the confines of sports debate, but they know how to play, too. They take a kind of show that viewers recognize and twist into a balloon animal.

After years of tinkering, Wright has found a home. And FTF is onto something.

About Brendon Kleen

Brendon is a Media Commentary staff writer at Awful Announcing. He has also covered basketball and sports business at Front Office Sports, SB Nation, Uproxx and more.

View all posts by Brendon Kleen