Doris Burke is thinking about retirement. It’s not in the immediate sense—she just signed a multi-year extension to her contract with ESPN—but ahead of her is an exciting future that has all to do with the women entering her field, newer names in sports broadcasting who may face fewer hurdles because of the legacy she’s creating. The latest example was in July 2024, at the NBA Finals, when Burke called the game on ESPN and became the first woman to serve as a television analyst for any major American men’s sports championship event. 

A true trailblazer, Burke began her career as a star player for Providence College, followed by several years of coaching. But when an opportunity arrived years later to announce the Providence women's basketball games on the radio, Burke took it. “My high school teammate swore that one time after watching Dick Vitale, I said, ‘Someday I'm going to work with that man,’ she recalls.

Who can say if she manifested the career that would follow—becoming one of the most prominent voices of the NBA since the ‘90s, WNBA since its inaugural ‘97 season, and, yes, eventually working alongside Vitale among many other industry leaders—but Burke’s laser focus and dedication to preparation are certainly the source of her success. Even on the evening of last year’s historic moment, Burke—dressed in Argent—mainly spoke of her task at hand, reporting on the athletes in front of her.

Even today, this monumental career moment—among others—proves to be a challenge for Burke to acknowledge. She says the weight of being “the first” can feel overwhelming and, as far as she’s concerned, there’s still another game and so much more work to be done. 

The house my parents bought was right next to a park and a basketball court, and that's how I picked up the game and fell in love immediately. I could dribble around and shoot at this rim, and didn't need anybody but myself to do it. I would spend hours frittering away…I lived between the four lines of that court. 

The other thing I did was watch basketball. Every Saturday or Sunday during basketball season, I was in front of the TV watching some of my favorite announcers, never dreaming for an instant that I would be amongst them. I remember the trio of Dick Enberg, Billy Packer, and Al McGuire. They were a great announcing team, but my favorite was Al McGuire. He had all these funny sayings, and there was just a color and savoir faire about what he did. I remember falling in love with him.

I remember the very first game I announced on the radio, and thank God no one was listening—this was Providence College women's basketball on local radio in the 1990s. I was trying to get “free throw” out of my mouth, but I was nervous and for some reason I could not enunciate the word “free.” As soon as it was over, the coach then listened back and was like, “Whoa, you've got some skill here. You're picking up on all the pertinent execution by the teams, strategies, and player tendencies.” 

Then, through the mid-’90s—and especially in 1997 with the formation of the WNBA—coverage exposure of women's basketball, both collegiately and professionally, began to mushroom and grow. Institutions began to take Title IX seriously and were trying their best to make sure that women were getting their due. I cannot say how big a piece that was to my growth as an analyst because—between the 30-35 games I would do in the wintertime on women's college basketball and then the 30-35 I might do in the WNBA—for the first time a woman could make a living between those two seasons as a color analyst. I am the beneficiary of extraordinarily good timing.

I have never wanted to be an opinionist. And very often, especially in modern television and the era of hot-take culture, there is an environment where you have to or you should want to have an opinion. That is not a strength of mine. My strength lies in being a basketball analyst, meaning I break down the game. 

I always tell young women to be aware of their strengths. The best teams do an incredible job of highlighting their strengths, but they also mask their weaknesses. They don't put themselves in a position to be exposed. I'm not telling you that you shouldn't be an intrepid spirit; you should be an intrepid spirit. You have to be willing to sometimes step out on a ledge that scares you, but there is a difference between doing that and understanding what is so uncomfortable that you don’t want to go there.

I had two constraints when I first started in the business. The first was economic: I was a young married woman, raising two children, and not making a ton of money. The second constraint was that I was sitting next to men who were always in a blue blazer and a power tie. And so within those two constraints, I wore out the two blue blazers I owned. I alternated between the two.

A seminal moment in my career was in the mid-2000s. I was a sideline reporter for the ACC, and I'm speaking with a producer. I am bemoaning the fact that I'm not getting the best games on ESPN. And this man looked me in the eyes and said, “Do you want a real answer or do you want a bullshit answer?” He said, “You are right that your skills are worthy of better games, but you need to change your look. You need to soften your appearance. You need to take your hair out of the ponytail you wear every single day, and you need to change out that damn blue blazer.” And that is exactly what I did.

I felt established enough that I could soften my look. And this is the beauty, to me, of Argent and working with stylists: You can now combine strength and femininity in your clothing. The first time I met with Leon Gray, the stylist I work with, I told him I needed to project an air of confidence, competence, and strength, but I also would like to look pretty. I needed to manage this delicate balance between strength and femininity. And you can do that. It is absolutely possible to do that.

I have been a big believer that your success is about preparation. How prepared am I? What am I offering the viewer in terms of knowledge and insight? But the fact of the matter is that television—and more broadly, life—is a visual medium. We all, on sight, form an initial opinion of everyone, fair or unfair. It's not only the clothing that I have on. It is the tone of my voice, it is my posture. 

And I will tell you unequivocally: I regret not hiring a stylist 15 years ago, because my life is so much easier now that I have someone with an eye and a level of professionalism and capability. I believe I am a terrific basketball analyst, but I would not try to color or cut my hair—that's not my profession. Clothing is not my profession. But what I notice is that when I have a fabulous suit on, I feel totally different [at work]. I hold my shoulders up higher. I'm ready to look at that camera. I know I look good, and I know what's going to come out of my mouth comes from an informed place. And those are incredibly powerful things.

Last year, when I was breaking through to that moment, I consciously tried to keep it out of my mind that I was going to be the first woman. We've made extraordinary strides culturally in society, but there's still a lot more work to do. And I thought, to be honest with you, if I let that thought cross over into my consciousness, it would weigh so heavily that I would lose sight of what I was doing. I felt pressure last year that I had never felt before. And in that moment, I elevated my preparation. I think at some point, I'll be able to think about crossing those barriers, but not now.

The thing that excites me the most about this next generation of female announcers in sports—like Candace Parker and Malika Andrews in the NBA and Mina Kimes in the NFL—is that these women are smart, know their information, and deliver it with a level of presence, confidence, and belief at such a young age that I am an in absolute awe of. When I consider their future—because, at some point, I will retire—I cannot wait to watch this next generation. I don't know how to describe it other than this unshakable belief that they belong. At their age, I would've loved to have had that kind of confidence. And it means that the women behind them will have more and more confidence and will not accept anything less than equality.