For 35 seasons, “Inside the NBA” on TNT wasn’t just a basketball show—it was a phenomenon. With its blend of sharp analysis, unscripted chaos, and the kind of brotherly love that can only come from shared battles, the show became a staple of American sports culture. Now, as the legendary crew prepares to move to ESPN, Shaquille O’Neal reflects on what made the show special, why he’ll never apologize to San Antonio, and how he found his voice on television.
The End of an Era… Or the Start of a New One?
When the news broke that NBA on TNT was ending, fans and analysts alike mourned the loss of what many considered the best studio show in sports. But for Shaq, it wasn’t the end—just another chapter. “Everybody’s sad and all that,” he says, “but I turned it around and I just bring it into military style.”
Shaq, ever the pragmatist, likens his career to military service: four years in Orlando, two terms in LA, a term in Miami, and now, after twelve years at TNT, it’s time for a new base. “The four horsemen are still together,” he insists, referencing himself, Charles Barkley, Kenny Smith, and Ernie Johnson. “It’s time to go to a new army base and take the [ __ ] over.”
For Shaq, change is just part of the game. “Don’t get sad. Don’t get happy,” he jokes. “That’s showin’ sports, baby.” It’s a philosophy that’s carried him through the highest highs and lowest lows, both on and off the court.
“You Want Me to Be Soft?”
Shaq’s approach to emotion is as legendary as his dunks. “I have no emotions,” he says, only half-joking. “Wasn’t allowed to have emotions growing up.” He admits there are exceptions—when Kobe passed away, when his sister and father died—but otherwise, he keeps it all inside.
It’s a stance that’s baffled some, especially in today’s world where vulnerability is celebrated. But Shaq is unapologetic. “I’ve been very successful doing it this way. Why would I change?” he asks. “Imagine me being soft, Jason and Travis. You want me to be soft? You want me to be the diesel, baby!” His co-hosts laugh, knowing full well that the world needs Shaq to be Shaq.
The Greatest Inside the NBA Moment: “I’m Not Apologizing, San Antonio!”
When asked about his favorite moment from the show, Shaq doesn’t hesitate. It’s not a buzzer-beater or a heated debate—it’s Charles Barkley riffing on the women of San Antonio.
Charles, never one to shy away from controversy, had a running joke about San Antonio’s “big ol’ women.” The bit became infamous, drawing laughs and, eventually, the ire of the network’s higher-ups. One day, the crew was called in for an emergency meeting. “You got all the big wigs come down and it was like, ‘Charles, you know, you’re talking about the women from San Antonio. We need you to apologize.’”
Charles, ever the showman, agreed—at least until the cameras were rolling. As soon as the show started, he turned to Ernie and said, “‘If you think I’m going to apologize, you got a whole ‘nother thing coming. Hell gonna freeze. You ain’t gonna like the show. You can fire me right now. Get in my car.’” Shaq remembers, “He just went off. I was like, ‘Oh my god, this is the best thing ever.’”
That moment, Shaq says, encapsulates everything great about the show: the unpredictability, the authenticity, and the willingness to say what everyone else was thinking—even if it meant ruffling feathers. “I was in tears, man. He’s the funniest guy ever.”
Finding His Rhythm
Shaq’s journey to TV stardom wasn’t always smooth. When he joined the show in 2011, he was nervous. “I wanted to be on my Bryant Gumbel,” he admits, trying to emulate the polished, reserved style of traditional broadcasters. It didn’t work.
The show’s producer, TK, pulled Shaq aside. “You keep doing that? You’re not going to be here. We want you to be Shaq.” It was a turning point. “Fucking be Shaq,” TK insisted.
The message was clear: authenticity over polish. “Once I realized that, I was able to just be myself,” Shaq says. “Because good game, bad game, doesn’t matter. After the show, they want to hear experience. They want to hear stories and they want to hear tactics from respectable people.”
On “Inside the NBA,” experience was currency. Shaq, a four-time NBA champion; Barkley, a Hall of Famer; Kenny Smith, a two-time champion; and Ernie, the glue that held it all together. “People know we have that experience, and then we add a little fun to it, a lot of humor to it, and I think that’s what’s always made our show great.”
Brotherhood and Brilliance
What set “Inside the NBA” apart wasn’t just the basketball knowledge—it was the chemistry. The crew could argue, roast each other, and still have each other’s backs. “We’re allowed to be ourselves,” Shaq says. “That’s what makes it very, very exciting.”
There’s a humility, too. “I don’t respect people that don’t really know about this thing of ours,” Shaq says. “I will respect your opinion, but if you ain’t really been there and done that, that’s just me.”
It’s a sentiment that resonates with fans. In a world of hot takes and armchair experts, “Inside the NBA” offered something real: the perspective of people who’d lived it, lost it, and won it all.
The Next Chapter
As the crew heads to ESPN, fans wonder if the magic will follow. Shaq has no doubts. “Us four together, I’m sure we’ll be able to figure it out,” he says.
The set might change, the network might be different, but the heart of the show—its authenticity, humor, and brotherhood—will remain. And if anyone tries to make Charles Barkley apologize for a joke, well, they’d better be ready for another classic moment.
Because as Shaq says, “If you think I’m going to apologize, hell gonna freeze. You ain’t gonna like the show. You can fire me right now. Get in my car.” And that, more than anything, is why “Inside the NBA” will never be duplicated.
