Imagine this: it’s a Sunday morning, the pinnacle of sports television viewership, and Skip Bayless is on a mission. An athlete, somewhere, somehow, got into trouble. And Skip, always the provocateur, offers the solution on national television, hosted by none other than the legendary Bob Ley: no athlete should be allowed outside past 11 p.m. Seriously. He believes every contract should include this curfew because “nothing good happens at nighttime.” A few years down the line, in a sunny Manhattan studio, Alex Rodriguez and Bloomberg Originals host Jason Kelly are captivated. Laughter echoes as Stephen A. Smith recounts the infamous tale. But the story doesn’t end there—not just yet, not by a long shot.

Somewhere else in the studio in the past, Stephen A. is listening, and he can’t believe his ears. Laughter bubbles up. Come on, Skip, “How old are you?” Surely, this is a joke. Surely. But when the segment ends and Stephen A. congratulates Skip on a hilarious bit, Skip leans in, his eyes dead serious. “I’m, I’m serious… No athlete,” he intones, “should be allowed out after 11 o’clock. There’s nothing good that comes from being out after 11 o’clock at night.”

The absurdity of it all was almost too much for Stephen A. to bear. This man was either a comedic genius or genuinely off his rocker. Either way, something clicked for Smith. As he describes it to co-hosts A-Rod and Kelly: “I naturally thought nothing like him. Naturally… It wasn’t something that had to be manufactured.”

See, Stephen A. Smith is this fiery, opinionated, quintessential voice of reason within the whirlwind of sports debate. Skip Bayless IS the whirlwind. He’s the wild card, the contrarian who’ll take any position to its illogical extreme. When Skip says athletes need a bedtime, it’s ludicrous. But it’s also perfect television.

Their clashing styles weren’t just a gimmick; they exposed the delightful spectrum of sports fandom. Sometimes, we want logic and thoughtful analysis—that’s Stephen A. But sometimes? We want the absurdity, the unhinged takes that only Skip can deliver. We want to laugh with Alex Rodriguez and co. as they throw their hands up in exasperated disbelief.

This is their chemistry, the secret sauce that turned “First Take” into a sports media juggernaut. It’s a calculated clash, yes, but with authentic sparks. Skip’s “insane” moments ignite Stephen A.’s wit and counterarguments. But where did it all start?

Stephen A. tells Alex Rodriguez about the deal that made sports media history (and made Smith question his sanity)

It all started with a proposal… but not the kind you’re thinking of. Skip Bayless approached Smith with an audacious idea: a sports debate show where they’d be the stars. Smith, in a flash of brilliance or madness (depending on perspective), saw the potential. They were, as Smith puts it, “polar opposites.” But who doesn’t love a good rivalry?

Their show, “First Take,” skyrocketed on ESPN2, and success tasted sweet. Yet Smith had a bigger goal: ESPN’s flagship. It was a strategic move, he now admits, and Skip was the ticket. “Skip got to Fox,” Smith reminisces to Alex Rodriguez and Jason Kelly, “I had, uh, dreams of making sure that we transitioned from ESPN 2 to ESPN 1.”

A-Rod, no stranger to the media frenzy himself, pounces on this during the Bloomberg segment, nodding along with Kelly. “That’s probably one of the best deals you do: is getting into a partnership with Skip Bayless; fair?” With a boisterous laugh, Smith agrees, before cheekily adding, “Skip Bayless is insane, and I’m not. Yeah, let’s get that out of the way.”

And there’s the rub! As Smith regales Alex Rodriguez and co-host Jason Kelly with tales of Skip’s outlandish pronouncements (remember the infamous 11 PM athlete curfew?), it becomes clear that the secret was their dynamic. Smith was the voice of (relative) reason, the perfect foil to Skip’s madness. “That’s when I knew… If we ever paired,” Smith muses in the segment, “it’s gonna be big time!” Needless to say, he was spectacularly right.

Love them or hate them, you can’t deny their impact. Skip and Smith rewrote the rules of sports media, proving that calculated conflict makes for compelling television. So, while Smith might jokingly lament Skip’s antics, there’s a hint of a smile on his face. Because who needs a boring on-air agreement when you’ve got a feud this profitable?