This week, the first hour of The Bill Simmons Podcast opened with a straight hour of solo NBA talk. No guest, no debate, no rules. Just Simmons.
The segment was decent enough. A useful recap of the first two weeks of the NBA season for anyone who was locked into the World Series or NFL season.
It was also the exact opposite of what a podcast is supposed to be.
Last year, Simmons told Bloomberg “You can’t just be famous and have a podcast.” In 2022, he told Vox he was cutting back on big interviews because the best guests were already hosts themselves — instead favoring reactions to big sports moments with smart friends.
Recently on his own show, Simmons seems to have ignored both perspectives and started going solo more often.
From his “six pack” of sports news reactions to the NBA tiers or a eulogy for a sports legend, the beginning of The Bill Simmons Podcast is now often a famous guy doing a monologue without a guest at all.
Look across the sports podcast landscape and The Sports Guy is far from unique in this evolution.
Ryen Russillo opens every show with a monologue on football or basketball. Many of Colin Cowherd’s YouTube live reaction episodes for his podcast at The Volume are just him in a room. Nick Wright, Skip Bayless, and Stephen A. Smith are almost always the only people on camera for their shows.
These monologues may be efficient. Some result in interesting takes. Yet these segments veer far off-course from the original premise of a great podcast.
That premise — what was supposed to make a podcast unique from a reported article, an opinion column, a TV news panel, or a documentary — was conversation. Whether the voices in your head were doing an interview, debating an issue, or just goofing around, the point was the hangout. You were a fly on the wall around interesting people.
From Joe Rogan to Marc Maron to Alex Cooper to the SmartLess guys to Nightcap or New Heights, there are plenty of examples where this is still true.
So why do so many of the most prominent sports voices think we want something different?
Sure, sports radio has a few iconic solo hosts in its history. Cowherd, Jim Rome, and Rich Eisen found a sizable niche. In political media, nearly every major podcast is driven by a single host and their views.
It’s a difficult urge to fight. As podcasts have replaced columns and blogs as the dominant form of opinion journalism, it’s easy to port over a listicle or hot take into a podcast. Certainly, more people will take in your opinions through headphones or phone screens than they would reading an article in 2024.
The issue is these segments are under-produced, repetitive, and often just boring. If a Smith, Simmons, or Wright says something out there or inaccurate, don’t expect a correction. The most harebrained comments get no pushback. The audience is just getting a direct injection of the host’s brain matter.
Who is getting anything out of Bayless ranting about which presidential candidate is most similar to a World War II general? Does Russillo really need to empty the notebook on Hornets-Wizards or Jazz-Spurs every week? Wouldn’t Wright’s thoughts on social issues be more provocative if he had to go deeper and defend them in a real conversation?
This isn’t about the right or wrong takes. It’s about good content.
If you ask most sports fans, the most consistently entertaining podcasts today feature the widest array of voices. On the radio side, Dan Le Batard and Dan Patrick bounce ideas off their crews. In podcasts, try turning off Shannon Sharpe and Chad Johnson while they debate love and football, or tell me it’s not funny to hear Big Cat and PFT Commenter troll their guests.
Not only is the back-and-forth more fun, it allows someone to be the voice of the audience. That intimacy and personal touch is another part of what makes a podcast different from writing or TV.
People listen to podcasts because they are some combination of fun, smart, or chaotic. They pass the time and entertain. A veteran sports host droning on about the details of this or that sport, or getting in the weeds on a grand theory of the world, is the exact opposite of that.
For the love of good content, it’s time to stop monologuing.