Tag, You're It

Céline Dion. I can’t get her out of my head.

My all-time favorite church here in Brentwood, CA sang Céline Dion’s “Ashes” last week. You heard that right— a Catholic Church singing Céline Dion.

Only in LA.

I was enthralled for two reasons:

1. Karla, the beloved brunette with an uncanny resemblance to Vanessa Hudgens took the lead.

2. Céline’s lyrics were right on the money.

I’ll give you a taste:

“'Cause I've been shaking

I've been bending backwards till I'm broke

Watching all these dreams go up in smoke

Let beauty come out of ashes

Let beauty come out of ashes

And when I pray to God all I ask is

Can beauty come out of ashes?”

My friend Kari gave me a book called “Humility” for my birthday. Some present, huh?? Not only was it a book… it was a book titled “Humility.” Was she trying to tell me something..?

The answer was yes. Yes, she was.

My role in the game of basketball is no longer that of "player." As much as I loved the game, I’ve always been a little more focused on my name…

I wanted to make sure my make-up looked just right, my knee sleeve was as white as my freshly Crest-white stripped teeth, and that a show was coming for the people who paid for one.

So yeah, I needed to read the book.

It's okay to love to perform and prepare your best-self, but there is a fine line that shouldn't be crossed. Is this all for you and your own personal gain? Or are you using the gifts God gave you to bring joy to others?

I’ve been in LA for four years now. I spent my first year post-grad broadcasting UCLA games, and this past year I’ve been managing bands at a record label. It has been nothing short of incredible. But if I'm being honest, I miss the rush of being in front of a camera. Working at a record label in LA with top-notch bands (yeah you, Rembrandts) is downright cool, but there is that little mustard seed inside of me that wants to sprout. It wants to be back on stage.

Join the club, right?

Not many want to sit at a desk all day. But as of late, I have felt that as each day passes I am missing out on my calling. I truly believe God gives us all unique gifts, and it's our job to use those gifts to spread His name. As much as I love the camera, I knew broadcasting wasn't where I was supposed to be... at least not yet. I knew I needed to take the record label job. That's where God wanted me next. Perhaps, it was just a stepping stone. It was an offer that allowed me to stay in LA and take the time to figure out my priorities.

I had a lot of questions.

And God had all of the answers...

Wrapped up in one... soon-to-be hit tv show... coming this fall...

UlLTIMATE TAG.

Yup. Tag. God answered my life's biggest questions... through tag.

I found it very fitting.

In typical, Nicole-like fashion, I received a text one day from one of my former UCLA staff members.

It read,

“Hi Debbie, I am hoping you might be able to help me - I am the Supervising Producer of a new prime-time sports competition series coming to Fox Network called Ultimate Tag. I am looking for a recurring star athlete cast for Los Angeles and would love a female basketball player who has a great personality. It is going to be recorded as live in front of a 600 strong audience with the atmosphere and set design not dissimilar to the Ninja Warrior experience… anyway, I just had one superhero star athlete female cast member drop out due to a knee injury and would love to replace her with someone with a basketball background.”

I texted back two words, “HECK YES.”

Now, let me tell you the story of what exactly I was walking into…

I had to go through a series of Skype interviews before I showed up at some warehouse in San Bernardino for what is known as “Games Testing.”

Imagine being asked to be a contestant on Ninja Warrior… and you can’t even do a pull-up.

The moment I walked into the warehouse and laid eyes on the obstacle course that was laid out in front of me I almost turned right back around and left right then and there.

But this was for Fox Network. This was for a prime-time tv series. This was for FAME.

Your hosts: JJ, TJ, and Derek Watt

I swallowed my fears and tied my shoes tight. 

Ramps. Warped walls. Trampolines, oh my.

A booming voice woke me up from my angst, “Who here has never been on our tramps before? I advise testing them out before we begin.”

“Crap, that’s me.”

Exactly all of the machinery that my father had advised me to stay away from my entire life to protect my basketball future was set before me in a warehouse.

I took one hard bounce off that trampoline and said, “Nu-uh.”

It wasn’t just the trampoline. It was the fact that I was supposed to use that very trampoline to catapult myself onto a pad located roughly 10 feet below me and 10 feet away from me in order to hit the magic button.

Everything within me screamed "no." Everyone around me screamed, “GO!”

And there I went. Flailing through the air. Picture a squirrel. A squirrel flying mid-air from one tree branch to the next, but replace that squirrel with a vision of a 6’1” amazon woman.

Mid-air I took a gander to my left. My fellow trampolinist was mid-front flip. I whipped my head to the right, another trampolinist mid-double backflip. And then me. On the center tramp, looking like a flying squirrel, just hoping to make the pad at all.

WHAP.

I MADE IT. Not graceful, not pretty, but safe. Or so I thought. My foot was contorted in one of the pad creases.

Holy cow the pain.

I now knew why my father advised me to never do these things while I was still playing basketball. 

It throbbed, but I couldn’t give up quite yet. Plus, I always exaggerate. I was fine. Kinda.

A few minutes later, the booming voice came back.

“Okay, everyone, gather ’round.”

I looked around me. I was the tallest by a landslide. These guys were all super freaky ripped and flexible and bouncy and with one glance I knew I didn’t belong.

The booming voice belonged to a man named Ryan. So I’ll refer to him as Ryan from now on.

Ryan described the course to us, told us the rules of the game, and strapped some helmets on to the first few contestants who were slated to start off the testing. 

At that moment, I spotted Dana. Dana was the lady who reached out to Debbie who asked me to be there in the first place.

She came jotting over and gave me a big hug.

“Now Nicole, I understand you might be freaked out right now. These guys are all professional stunt doubles and Parkour members. I don’t expect you to do what they do. We asked you here because you offer us something different.”

Dana, I wish you would have told me that 5 minutes earlier before I smashed my foot on a trampoline launch.

Regardless, that made me breathe a little easier.

A few minutes later, my name was called.

Time to shine.

And by that, I meant, “PLEASE DON’T HURT YOURSELF.”

My foot was in agony. I really jacked it up. But PRIME-TIME. FAME. FOX NETWORK.

SUCK IT UP, KORNET.

I thought I was going to cry. Honestly, I might have cried. It was all a blur.

That didn’t stop me, though. I came to test and testing I did. I tried to camouflage my gimp as best I could, but the 12 other contestants were literally flying off the walls and performing the coolest mid-air stunts I had ever seen that my baby gimp was the least of the producers’ worries.

Again, I was going against professional stunt doubles, Parkour members, and “tricksters” as they deemed themselves. I am a has-been women’s basketball player two years removed.

After testing, I had to call the squad.

Lindsey was first.

“The only way I make it on to that show is if they are looking for someone who is the opposite of what they’re looking for. Because that is exactly who I am.”

These crazy cats were flying off barriers. Flipping off walls. Catapulting themselves from platform to platform. I stayed on the ground, kept my two little feet on planet earth, and tried to tag like I’ve never tagged before.

It was a lot of fun. But after that day, I knew I wasn’t getting a callback. I was just proud of myself for giving it a whirl at all.

A week passed. No text. No email. Nada.

In showbiz, if you’re not getting a callback day of or next day, you’re probably not who they’re looking for…

The next day Dana’s number flashed on my screen. She was calling me.

“Hey Nicole, as you probably know, casting can be about a million different things. How many blondes do we have… what ethnicities are shown… how tall… how short.”

I wanted to interrupt her right then and there, “It’s okay, Dana. I know I sucked. Just cut me already.”

“Nicole, unfortunately, you will not be one of the members featured on the show…

Knew it.

“BUT we loved your personality so much that we decided to create a new role for you.”

My heart skipped a beat.

Is she asking me to be the host?? Could I be a commentator? What on earth are they going to ask of me??

“Nicole, would you like to be the referee?”

Humility, Nicole. Embrace humility.

Laugh with me, folks.

The ref.

For tag.

A show about tag. And they want me to be the ref.

I took a deep breath, and replied in two words…

“HECK YES.”

I chuckled in my head. The referee. THE REFEREE. 

Guys, you’re talking to the FIRST EVER ULTIMATE TAG REFEREE for Fox Network.

(Zoey was the second).

There will be three referees in total and we will appear on all ten episodes of the show. And SAG wages aren’t too shabby when you get a pay-per-appearance rate!

We'll be filming on the Warner Bros. lot for three weeks.

Just look at that 'fit.

Sometimes in life, you aren’t born to be the main act, but that doesn’t mean your role is any less important.

Refs are people too.

Céline Dion begged the question...

"Can beauty come out of ashes?"

And I, Nicole Kornet, am here to answer it.

Sometimes we won’t get the role we’ve always wanted. Sometimes we'll be the one watching from the stands. Sometimes we'll feel like we're stuck in limbo while everyone else is living their dream. But each person has a choice. No matter what, and no matter where we are in life, we have the choice to use the gifts God has given us in a way that spreads joy to others. If you embrace humility, live as Jesus taught, and serve (wave the flag), rather than be served, God will open the doors for you when the time is right.

If we do that beauty is all that can come out of ashes.

At the end of the day, we all need each other. We can't do everything ourselves. God gives us all different gifts for that very reason.

Every Jordan needs a Pippen.

Every J.J. needs a T.J.

And every Ultimate Tagger needs a woman in stripes.