We’re witnessing the end of an era and perhaps the beginning of another. The traditional sports telecast, once the hallowed perch where voices like Vin Scully and Harry Kalas painted summers in living color, is being unseated. Not by better microphones or smarter analysts, but by the app icon on your phone.
Two seismic stories this week underline this shift. First, nine Major League Baseball teams have terminated their contracts with the FanDuel Sports Network (formerly regional RSNs operated by Main Street Sports Group), effectively ending a broadcast model that tethered local teams to traditional pay-TV channels. Second, FIFA has named TikTok as its first-ever “Preferred Platform” for 2026 World Cup content, building a dedicated in-app hub where fans can watch clips, highlights, and potentially even live segments of matches.
These are not isolated headlines. They are chapters in the same story. The familiar grid of broadcast schedules and linear rights deals is giving way to streams of short-form engagement and direct-to-consumer access. The center of gravity is shifting from network affiliates and cable bundles to mobile devices, social platforms, and on-demand apps.
Which brings us back to a visionary whose name should be part of this conversation: Ed Snider. In 1976, Snider launched PRISM in the Philadelphia area. It was the nation’s first 24-hour regional cable network, combining sports and movies, long before RSNs were ubiquitous in the media economy. That hybrid of live sports and entertainment straight into people’s homes was revolutionary. It was about bringing the arena to the living room. It foreshadowed today’s world, where fans want content now, everywhere, and on their terms.
Back then, the technology was coaxial cable and set-top boxes. Today, it is 5G, processors in your pocket, and AI-curated highlights that appear the moment you unlock your phone. The venue has changed, from The Spectrum’s broadcast booth to your notification bar, but the impulse is the same: to get closer to the game.
Yes, losing traditional broadcast contracts feels like turning off the lights in a familiar stadium. But maybe that is okay. Maybe this is the next evolution of Snider’s original vision, where the grandstand does not stay in one place but lives in your hand, updating every second with real-time highlights, personality-driven clips, creator reactions, and interactive engagement.
We are not abandoning the booth. We are transforming it. Instead of sitting in a fixed box overlooking the field, the voice of the game now travels with you, in 15-second bursts, in interactive hubs, in community feeds that never sleep. The broadcast booth is not gone. It has been democratized, mobilized, and personalized.
And maybe that is exactly where it was always headed.