Skip Bayless Is Coming Back to First Take — Again

Don’t let anyone tell you this was a one-time thing. Skip Bayless walked back onto the First Take set on May 8 for what ESPN framed as a nostalgic, one-off reunion with Stephen A. Smith — and the moment it was over, the clock started ticking on his next appearance.

The two hadn’t shared a desk in nearly a decade, not since Bayless’s final First Take appearance on June 21, 2016, two days after the Cavaliers beat the Warriors in the NBA Finals. He left for FS1 that fall to launch Skip and Shannon: Undisputed alongside Shannon Sharpe — a move that, by all accounts, did not sit well with Smith at the time. Now, ten years later, they were back in the same room, arguing about LeBron James like it was 2014.

What the Reunion Actually Looked Like

The greatest hits were all there. LeBron’s place in NBA history. The Dallas Cowboys. Tim Tebow. The degrading nicknames. Bayless and Smith settled back into their rhythms quickly, and fans on social media were clearly happy to see it — the nostalgia factor was real and immediate.

But let’s be honest about what Friday’s show actually delivered: a Temu version of their best debates. The chemistry that made First Take essential viewing in the early 2010s was built on years of daily competition, genuine friction, two guys who couldn’t stand to lose an argument because they’d be back at it again the next morning. That edge doesn’t just switch back on for a reunion special. The same dynamic plays out whenever Mike Francesa and Chris Russo get back together — they’re too happy to be in the same room to really go at each other the way they used to.

Pull up any of those original Bayless-Smith clips on YouTube and the 2026 versions simply don’t hit the same way. That’s not a knock on either of them — it’s just the nature of nostalgia television. The first time back is always warmer than it is electric.

Why the Timing Actually Makes Sense

The reunion happening now isn’t random. For most of the last decade, a Bayless return to First Take would have been genuinely complicated. For eight years, he was Smith’s direct competition, running what amounted to a First Take knockoff on FS1 with Sharpe. And when Sharpe himself joined First Take, bringing Bayless in alongside him would have been its own kind of awkward.

Then last summer, ESPN moved on from Sharpe as he dealt with a since-settled sexual assault lawsuit, and suddenly the door was open. Bayless had already left FS1 in 2024 after eight years — he’d signed a four-year extension in 2021 but ultimately walked away. He’s been hosting a weekly podcast, The Skip Bayless Show, and co-hosting a show for Underdog. The two had already reconnected publicly — appearing together on Bayless’s podcast in 2025 and photographed side by side in November of that year. The pieces were in place.

When Bayless first left FS1 in 2024, ESPN had shut down any talk of a return. Clearly, that position evolved.

The Mad Dog Blueprint

Here’s the thing about one-off appearances on First Take: they have a way of becoming something more. Chris Russo’s first cameo was also framed as a one-time deal. He generated enough buzz that he was welcomed back, then welcomed back again, and eventually handed a weekly chair. Smith and Bayless were far too warm and comfortable with each other on Friday for this to genuinely be a handshake-and-goodbye situation.

ESPN and Smith aren’t going to lose sleep over whether you thought the reunion lived up to the hype. They’re going to look at the ratings. They’re going to look at what happened on social media. And by those metrics, Bayless and Smith together — even a slightly defanged version — still move the needle in a way that most sports television simply doesn’t.

The rubbernecking appeal fades fast if they’re together five days a week. But in doses — say, when the NFL season kicks off and Bayless has Cowboys takes to dispense — it works. Smith gets that particular energy he still clearly enjoys when he’s in a real screaming match. Bayless gets the exposure that his podcast and digital ventures can’t quite replicate. And ESPN gets the social media moment machine it’s been chasing since the format peaked.

Everyone in sports media complains that Bayless and Smith spawned a generation of hot-take artists who can’t quite pull it off the way they did. The solution, apparently, is just to bring back the originators. And now that the pleasantries are out of the way and the nostalgia itch has been properly scratched, the next time Bayless shows up, the gloves might actually come off.

There will be a next time. Count on it.