As we come to the end of the year, I always think about one of the most amazing holiday gifts. It was on TV, yet it’s rarely discussed. It was given by Aaron Sorkin, during an episode of his show Sports Night. This was his first television show, before The West Wing, before everyone knew who he was. Maybe that’s why he wanted to make sure the little guy got noticed — the people behind the scenes that never get to take a bow.
When most people think about Aaron Sorkin, they remember the big giant speeches. The ones where characters stand up and deliver full-throated civics lectures to the audience that feels like a Shakespearian monologue in prime time.
Like that moment in The West Wing pilot when we finally meet President Bartlet — played by Martin Sheen — at the very end of the episode. He walks into a room full of bickering pundits and advisors, turns to a conservative radio host, and says:
“You want to claim this country as the moral high ground? I’ve been to your churches. I’ve heard you preach. And I know a little something about the Constitution. I know about the separation of church and state. You can’t have it both ways.”
“My name is Josiah Bartlet, and I am the President.”The West Wing pilot
The West Wing pilot
Or that time on The Newsroom when Aaron Sorkin channeled his own empathic feelings through Jeff Daniels’s mouth. The following words appear on the show The Newsroom, almost verbatim in this interview with Sorkin in Vulture.
The thing that I worry about more is the media’s bias toward fairness. Nobody uses the word lie anymore. Suddenly, everything is “a difference of opinion.” If the entire House Republican caucus were to walk onto the floor one day and say “The Earth is flat,” the headline on the New York Times the next day would read “Democrats and Republicans Can’t Agree on Shape of Earth.” I don’t believe the truth always lies in the middle. I don’t believe there are two sides to every argument. I think the facts are the center. And watching the news abandon the facts in favor of “fairness” is what’s troubling to me.
The Newsroom, S1.E2: “News Night 2.0” and Vulture
But before Aaron Sorkin became Aaron Sorkin, there was Sports Night. In the show, Sorkin was still finding his TV legs, having been more of a movie writer and playwright. It still felt like Sorkin. Whip-smart young professionals rapidly switch between pining over office break ups to empathetic speeches on the history of racism.
But unlike Sorkin’s other shows, Sports Night is quieter. Smaller. It’s not about the President governing the country or a rogue news anchor trying to redeem journalism. It’s about a team of people putting out a nightly sports program. That’s it. No global stakes. No breaking news ticker. Just a lot of talk about hockey, tennis, and what goes on behind the scenes.
In format, it was a series of 30-minute Sorkin-scripted plays. It was burdened in its early episodes by an ill-fitting laugh track. It straddled the line between sitcom and drama before “dramedy” was a widely accepted TV genre. It’s much more The American President than A Few Good Men. Many of Sorkin’s most recognizable tropes — the overlapping dialogue, the moral debates, the sudden sincerity — started here.
Because Sports Night is smaller, it can take its time. The lines from Sports Night that stick with me are much more personal and stay with me longer. Like this one:
DAN: The distance is always 100 miles between first place and second place. You know, Jackie Robinson had a brother, and he ran the 200 meters. At the Olympics, he ran it faster than anyone had ever run it before, and he still came in second.
ABBY: I didn’t know Jackie Robinson had a brother.
DAN: That’s because it was the 1936 Olympics, and the guy who came in first was Jesse Owens.
Sports Night, “The Local Weather”
I’d forgotten where I’d learned this one but it stayed with me for decades.
But my favorite Sports Night moment is hidden, like an Easter Egg. It’s in Season 1, in an Episode called “Six Southern Gentlemen of Tennessee.” It starts when one of the Sports Night anchors is a guest on The View. One of the hosts compliments his tie. He says thank you. That’s it. But when he returns to the office, he’s approached by Monica — played by Janel Moloney (yes, Donna from The West Wing). Monica works in wardrobe. She tells him, gently but firmly, that he didn’t pick the tie. Maureen, her boss, did. And he could have said her name. That little bit of acknowledgment would have meant the world.
It’s a small confrontation, but a perfect one. Monica doesn’t raise her voice. She just explains what it feels like to do invisible work — and remain invisible.
And then, in the episode’s final scene, Sports Night does the most heartfelt fourth-wall break I’ve ever seen.
Casey and Dan sit at the anchor desk and begin reading names. Not just character names—real names of the backstage cast. The people who make the show possible. Wardrobe. Hair and makeup. Script coordinators. Editors. Camera operators. Lighting. Production assistants. They thank Monica. They thank Maureen. They thank Jerome, who runs Camera Two and just wants more hockey. Many of the people’s names are in the credits, but some are not.
They do it in character, but it’s not about the characters anymore. It’s a sincere acknowledgment. An in-story thank you. A love letter to the crew—delivered right there, in prime time.
It was a quiet thank you that meant so much to the crew. No curtain call. No grandstanding. Just gratitude. And it lands harder than any Sorkin monologue ever could.
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