When NBA Draft night rolls around, it’s supposed to be peak excitement—pros, picks, prospects, and that electric buzz only a fresh wave of talent can bring. But this year, ESPN took a detour into head-scratching territory. Two moments stand out: a face-recognition fail that had fans yelling “Who’s that?” and a cringeworthy on-air mix-up that even casual viewers noticed. And at the center of it all? The almighty Stephen A. Smith and Malika Andrews.

Picture this: Duke phenom Cooper Flagg is about to be crowned the No. 1 pick by the Mavericks. But on ESPN’s slick graphics? It wasn’t Cooper Flagg—it was Rutgers guard Ace Bailey. Then, seconds later, they slipped up again, showing Rutgers guard Dylan Harper instead. Two completely unrelated players, and not a single edit.

This wasn’t just a typo — it was like mixing up Michael Jordan with Larry Bird in Game 7. Fans were left scratching their heads and wondering how a professional broadcast could confuse athletes like that. And considering ESPN’s strong identity reputation, the error hit like a hammer, especially when it had shades of racial insensitivity given the mix of players involved. Ouch.

As if that weren’t enough, Malika Andrews blew the coverage’s credibility further by calling Washington State guard Cedric Coward by the name of Fox Sports host Colin Cowherd. Talk about bad days. Fans everywhere sat up in their seats like they’d found a glitch in the broadcast matrix. And on live TV, this isn’t just embarrassing—it’s non-negotiable.

The broadcast crew tried to move on, but viewers didn’t. Social media exploded with memes, highlights, and clips that made this a Draft night to remember for all the wrong reasons.

Fan Meltdown: Stephen A. Smith & Co. Send Viewers Over the Edge

“Having to choose between watching ABC draft coverage with Stephen A. Smith or ESPN coverage with Kendrick Perkins,” Kendrick Perkins has become the NBA media equivalent of a walking meme—offering up hot takes that land with the grace of a Shaqtin’ A Fool blooper. From declaring Nikola Jokic’s MVP win a “media agenda” to bizarre, half-baked claims about player chemistry, Perkins often leaves fans questioning if he’s watched the same game they have. His tone? Aggressively confident. His analysis? Often surface-level and recycled. Celtics fans, in particular, have taken a beef, regularly booing him at TD Garden for throwing shade at his former squad. So when fans are stuck picking between Perkins’ chaos and Stephen A. Smith’s sonic boom, it’s like choosing whether to drown in soda or ketchup—entertaining, but no one’s walking away enlightened.

“Stephen A said Jeremiah fears the second coming of Kyrie Irving…” This right here is peak Stephen A. Smith theatrics. Instead of explaining a player’s game or development curve, Smith often veers off into Marvel villain mode, inventing wild narratives like a coach fearing his own team or a rookie waking up in cold sweats over Kyrie Irving. It’s the kind of exaggerated fear-mongering that belongs on WWE promos, not ESPN Draft night. These takes dominate airtime, leaving zero room for scouting reports, fit analysis, or basic draft strategy. For a night that should be about facts and futures, SAS turns the whole thing into The Stephen A. Smith Experience—and not in a good way.

“ESPN needs to stop putting SAS on every event… knowledgeable staff exists.” There’s a graveyard of capable basketball minds being ignored while Stephen A. Smith monopolizes ESPN’s biggest stages. College analysts who tracked draft boards all season, player development insiders, team beat writers—none get airtime while Smith screams from center stage. Why? Because ESPN’s formula is simple: noise equals ratings. But that formula is wearing thin. Charles Barkley himself questioned the network’s direction, and even casual fans are starting to crave depth over decibels. By putting Stephen A. Smith on everything, from pre-game shows to NBA Draft panels, ESPN is crowding out actual experts in favor of viral rants.

“Don’t ever quote Stephen A. Smith to prove a basketball quote.” In today’s Reddit threads and basketball circles, SAS has gone from being “the voice” to being the joke. His hot takes are treated with the same seriousness as Skip Bayless’ Twitter posts—amusing, but not credible. When fans say “don’t quote Stephen A. Smith,” it’s not a diss on his career but a statement on his recent pivot to pure performance. Instead of being a basketball authority, he’s seen as an attention-seeker, draped in designer suits and decibels, chasing virality over veracity. His Draft night presence only amplified that problem, with many saying his commentary distracted from the real stories of the rookies.

“Bob Myers and Stephen A. go together like peanut butter and napalm.” This odd couple pairing was supposed to be ESPN’s dream team—former Warriors GM Bob Myers bringing insider IQ, and SAS bringing the fire. Instead, it felt more like First Take with a confused front-office translator. Myers tried injecting nuance, only to be steamrolled by Stephen A.’s nonstop shouting. The result? A segment where tension replaced analysis, and Myers looked like a man realizing mid-sentence that he should’ve stayed in the Bay. Even Barkley roasted the duo, calling it a “volume war with no winners.” When your panel’s volume is higher than their combined draft board knowledge, you’ve lost the plot.

The SAS effect—loud, sensational, larger-than-life—has its place. But the NBA Draft isn’t about drama trees; it’s about futures, fit, and franchise plans. Confusing faces and dropping names wrong isn’t just sloppy—it undermines candidate credibility, annoys viewers, and shifts focus from the athletes.

Plus, these mix-ups were avoidable. NBC’s studio segments? Stylish but substance-heavy. NBA TV analysts? Calm, knowledgeable, respectful of process. Meanwhile, ESPN’s coverage felt more like a blooper reel than a career-defining broadcast.

Mistakes happen—live TV isn’t a dress rehearsal. But major errors, combined with noisy coverage from SAS and friends, turned a marquee night into a comedic highlight reel for all the wrong reasons.

Fans aren’t just frustrated—they’re calling for smarter selections: actual analysts, accurate visuals, and thoughtful breakdowns. Because next time a top pick hits that stage, we don’t want to hear echoes of “Wrong face!” or “Who’s that again?” or worse, see the analysts playing solitaire instead of working. We want context, insight, and respect for what’s on the line—for both players and franchises.

ESPN has the faces and the access. Now it needs to show finesse. And maybe next time? Let Stephen A. Smith and Kendrick take a timeout for one night. Here’s hoping Draft 2026 rolls out smoothly—with the right names, right analysis, and no identity mix-ups on live TV.