Charles Barkley strides into an Atlanta studio. He takes his spot flanked by two other former players (Shaquille O’Neal and Kenny Smith) and the ideal host/substitute teacher (Ernie Johnson). And then, Barkley spends hours letting loose on all manner of topics, from NBA players carrying guns, to his deep annoyance with the Lakers, to the curious disproportion between cute babies and ugly people. For 23 years now—far longer than his playing career and, he notes, far more remunerative—Barkley has been a sort of power forward on Inside the NBA.
The show is unscripted. It’s irreverent. It, reliably, careens off the rails, going to commercial with the panelists still arguing. And it ranks among television’s great watches. Not sports watches; watches watches. Barkley won’t cop to it, but he is the star, the guy who makes it work. Like basketball players who get airborne without knowing precisely what they will do with the ball before they land, Barkley often starts talking without a clear plan of where his sentences are heading. But then, he pulls off the rarest move in polarized modern-day America: He leaves audiences nodding in agreement, or smiling in disagreement.
Cary Edmondson/USA TODAY SportsRating