When The Washington Post recently announced it would lay off hundreds of employees and eliminate its entire sports department, the reaction reached far beyond newsroom walls. Reporters protested outside the building. Readers flooded social media with criticism of the paper’s ownership. Some longtime subscribers even ended their subscriptions in protest. This moment became more than a newsroom shift. It became a reckoning about what local sports coverage has meant in Washington and what it still means to the people who live here.
For many Washingtonians, sports coverage was not just another section of the newspaper. It was part of how people experienced the life of their city. Morning scores reports and game summaries were common conversation starters. Writers who knew the teams and the community helped fans make sense of the wins and the losses. That kind of storytelling helped people feel tied to a place, even as the city continued to change.
The loss of that coverage comes at a time when access to sports is narrowing across the country. Some of the biggest moments in sports — like the Super Bowl, which set an all-time media record for peak viewing, and the Olympic Games — remain accessible to a wide audience; others now require planning, money and multiple subscriptions to tune in.
This shift is especially noticeable during holidays, when sports have traditionally served as a backdrop for gatherings of family and friends. Many fans know in advance that a game they hoped to watch will not air on their local station. The frustration is not about misunderstanding. It is about fatigue from the constant maneuvering through streaming services and subscriptions. Following a team should not feel like solving a puzzle, especially for older viewers and households that depend on basic cable or broadcast television — a position that has been defended by advocacy organizations like the National Association of Broadcasters.
At the same time, the traditional pipeline that fed local sports coverage has weakened as regional sports networks have collapsed or consolidated. These networks once partnered with local newsrooms and served as the main source of televised games for many fans. Now, as those networks disappear or restructure, teams increasingly turn to league-managed streaming platforms or national distributors that prioritize scale over neighborhood connection. What once felt locally rooted now feels distant.
Washington, for now, stands apart from much of this trend. Monumental Sports Network remains the local television home for the Capitals, Wizards and Mystics, offering regional access to games and programming. In today’s media environment, that level of continuity is valued by fans. But access even here has become more complicated. The network is no longer included on many basic cable packages and requires upgraded subscriptions for many viewers to receive it. It was also dropped from three major streaming services after negotiations broke down, forcing fans who rely on streaming platforms to find alternative apps to watch or subscribe directly to Monumental’s standalone service. What was once a straightforward local broadcast has become another example of how sports access is shifting in ways that create barriers for fans.
The Washington Nationals provide another example of how access is changing in real time. After years under a regional sports network model, the team is moving toward a league-produced local broadcast and streaming approach beginning with the 2026 season. Games will be available through select cable providers and a paid subscription option. This shift reflects a broader direction across professional sports, where access increasingly assumes reliable broadband, disposable income and comfort managing multiple digital platforms rather than one simple channel.
For many fans, radio remains the most dependable way to follow games. Nationals broadcasts continue to air on 106.7 The Fan and a network of regional affiliates, providing play-by-play coverage that does not require additional subscriptions. That reach is meaningful. According to recent Nielsen data, radio reaches more than 90% of Black adults each month, making it one of the most trusted and consistent media platforms in the country. Radio endures because it was built to be accessible to large and diverse audiences across income levels and communities. It is a reminder of what intentional access looks like.
The elimination of The Washington Post sports department sharpens the stakes of all these changes. For many readers, sports coverage was a gateway into local news and a way to feel connected to their city and community. When a major institution steps away from that role, the need does not disappear. It falls to smaller outlets with deep local ties but fewer resources.
This is where community-rooted journalism matters. Outlets like The Washington Informer, The Afro and The 51st were founded to serve audiences who are often overlooked when markets tighten and priorities change. Sports coverage is part of that mission. For these outlets to succeed, they also need access to teams, players and information that historically flowed most easily to larger organizations.
None of this is an argument against technology or innovation. New platforms have expanded how fans engage with sports. But when progress moves faster than access, the result is exclusion. The responsibility for protecting access does not rest with fans. It belongs to team leadership that sets distribution priorities, to broadcasters and platforms that negotiate exclusive rights, to funders who support journalism and to policymakers who shape the rules governing media and communications. It also belongs to readers who choose to support outlets committed to community coverage.
Sports still have the power to bring people together, particularly at a time when political and cultural divisions feel sharper than ever. Local journalism still has the power to reflect the life and vibrancy of a city. Keeping both accessible is a choice about what kind of civic life we want to sustain and who gets to be part of it.