Taco Tuesday

August 20, 2019

Anyone who deems themselves a shooter needs to be put to the test. After a few days on set, LeBron begged the question: Who was the best shooter in the gym? And could they take down The King?

LeBron had his own private court that Warner Bros. created for him, and he invited us all to shoot one morning. The catch: call times were at 7am... so we were looking at a 5am alarm in order to do so.

We couldn't wait til 5am the next day. People were already chirping. LeBron looked over at the Goon Squad and asked who the best shooter on the team was. Everyone looked at me.

The day wore on, business as usual, until LeBron got up to shoot a particular scene. He was shooting around and waiting for the director to get settled.

He called out my name. 

“Alright Kornet. It’s go time.”

I looked up, and smiled. Oh boy. I hadn’t touched a ball since I graduated, but here goes nothin. 

The first game was simple— five shots from five spots. He won three games, I won two. He got me.

The next game we decided to up the ante. We had to make each shot from each spot in a row to advance to the next spot, and if you didn't... you went back a spot. 

That was confusing. Let me break it down for you:

From the baseline you had to make your first shot to advance.

From the wing, you had to make two in a row to advance.

From the top of the key, you had to make three in a row to advance.

From the opposite wing, you had to make four in a row to advance.

From the opposite baseline, you had to make all five in a row to win.

If you miss any shot at all, you immediately go back to your last spot.

LeBron got off to a hot start and made it all the way to the top of the key, until he missed his last shot and went 3 for 4.

My turn.

I missed the first shot.

His turn.

He went two for three.

Time to work my way back.

Swish.

Swish. Swish.

Swish. Swish. Swish.

He's in my ear. Side by side with the big fella.

I miss.

Back to Bron.

He makes his way to the opposite wing. 3 out of 4.

Okay, Kornet. Focus.

I make three in a row.

On to the wing!

I make one, then two, and then the Second AD comes over.

"Alright, guys, let's clear the court. We need to get rolling."

"No, no, no. She’s feeling it right now. Give us a few more minutes," replied LeBron.

I make the third shot, and then the fourth.

Last spot. Five more and I take the crown.

I make the first one. Net the second one. Hold the follow through on the third, turn to LeBron and look him dead in the eyes...

"Did that go in?”

It rattles in and he retorts back, “Ooh you were scared, though, huh??”

I square up for the fifth and final shot. As soon as it left my hand I took off straight to center court Steph Curry style.

Cash.

Everyone went nuts.

All one hundred supervillain extras stampede the court. The cast, crew and anyone with legs came running towards me with arms open wide.

LeBron, too, gave credit where credit was due, and dapped me up. 

"12 in a row, not bad."

One of the prop guys pulled me aside and handed me the coveted silver ball.

“Keep it.”

"And get him to sign it too!"

"Woah, woahhhh woahhhh," clapped back LeBron. "The series is even now. She's not getting a signature until she truly tops me."

As soon as we wrapped at 8pm, LeBron challenged me again. He was in his flip flops, until I started feeling it. The flip flops came off, and the laces came on.

We probably went back and forth for 45 minutes and shot 100 shots going 90 for 100 from 3. Neither of us hardly missed.

Until I didn't.

And beat him again.

Just for kicks, we decided to do another round. This time off the dribble.

(I won that one too).

Before we left, LeBron told me we had to end on a make. I tossed up an NBA three from the wing. 

Cash.

The basketball gods were with me that evening.

As we were making our way back to our trailers, LeBron snagged the ball from me, and finally signed it.

As I was making my way to base camp, I was getting congrats from left and right from people on different stages who weren't even a part of the Space Jam production.

LeBron's bodyguard saw me and let out an “Oooo girl, you earned that signature!”

LeBron heard all of the hoopla from his trailer, peeped his head out, and yelled out for me to come in.

“So you out there boastin’???”

I walked in, took a seat on his couch, crossed my legs, and said with a smile on my face, "Just wait til I can post about it."

Space Jam 2

Trash talk. It’s never been my favorite, but thanks to Frank Kornet I knew how to turn it on when needed.

It was needed.

I booked a voice-over gig for the new NBA Live and Madden video games.

A weekend full of trash talk and pick-up games back at the Warner Bros. lot with fellow athletes. There I met an actor who, arguably, changed my life.

Meet Sheldon Bailey.

He played basketball at Miami, moved to LA, found a talent agency, began booking Nike commercials and was recently cast in two tv shows, one on Nickelodeon and the other on HBO. Welcome to LA.

His claim to fame? He's LeBron James’ body double.

He reminded me of myself. Minus the 6'8" frame and big, burly, man muscles. He was the type of guy who was always the first to raise his hand to read aloud in class, loved theatre growing up, was an athlete, and knew in his heart of hearts that the entertainment industry was where he wanted to be.

He asked about my background too. I told him about Ultimate Tag, but as far as experience on set goes, I was a full-time project manager at a record label. Not an actress.

He asked for my number and told me that he’d be more than happy to connect me with a few people.

The very next day I got a text from Sheldon.

“They are auditioning women’s basketball players to double some WNBA stars for Space Jam 2 at 1pm in North Hollywood. This is a call back, but I spoke to the casting director about you and he said that you can audition if you're available. Are you?”

I don’t think I blinked for two minutes. I kept rereading what he had written.

“SPACE JAM 2???”

But then I remembered…

1pm. I had to be on set for Tag at 1pm. I couldn't be at two places at once.

But for some reason, I knew I had to get there. I had to make this audition.

I showed up to the North Hollywood Rec Center at 12:00pm to look for a casting director I had never seen before and introduce myself. Maybe if I gave him a glimpse and sank a few J's for him I'd be able to give him just enough before I had to bail for Tag.

“Are you here for Space Jam?” a voice echoed from behind.

I turned around, “Yes, I am.”

“We’re not opening the doors til 1, but you’re in the right place.”

“Not till 1? I’m currently in this other show at Warner Bros. and I have to be THERE at 1. I was hoping to sneak in real quick beforehand.”

“Do you know Mike Fisher? He’s the casting director and will be here in about 30 minutes. I would try to wait for him if you could.”

Alright, sounds like this Mike guy is my only chance.

12:50pm rolled around. I was getting anxious. It was the first day of shoot blocking at Tag. I had to be there.

The door finally opened. A dashing 50-year-old man entered.

Mike.

I ran over to him. “Hi, Mike. My name is Nicole Kornet and…”

“Oh, I know who you are. Go tell that lady that I just added you. You’re not on the roster yet.”

“Is there any way I could shoot for you now? I have to be at Warner Bros. in 10 minutes for another show I’m on…”

“Nicole, if I were you, I’d stick around. You’re exactly the type of person we’re looking for in this role. The directors and producers will be here in about 15-20 minutes. And if you get this part, you’ll be making a lot more than whatever you’re making at Tag...”

Oh boy.

I had to wait. I couldn’t miss this.

I emailed my supervisor at Tag. A little white lie had to do…

“Running late from a dentist appointment. Will be there in an hour.”

(Sorry Kristi. Had to).

I walked over to sign my name in. 

Under each NBA and WNBA cast member, there was a list of about 6-7 actors with headshots, fast facts, and contact info.

The woman told me to just scribble my name down in the corner under the Diana Taurasi group.

I chuckled.

“This is an official callback,” I thought to myself. These people have headshots and resumes and I have a chicken-scratch name tag plugged in the margin.

When I gazed at the paper once more I noticed that the Diana Taurasi group had a 2:15pm time stamp next to the name. 

Uh-oh. It just turned 1pm, Tag has started, and my audition wasn’t for another hour. 

I didn’t know what to do. I really wanted this, but I had already signed another contract. I was supposed to be at Warner Bros. an hour ago.

There was only one thing that made sense at that moment — call mom.

I called her and told her my predicament. She wasn’t much help.

“Don’t lie, but don’t go. Follow your heart, but don’t miss your obligation.”

C’MON MOM. I NEED CLARITY.

I decided to stay. TV show call times say one thing but mean another. Plus, I’m an on-air referee. I’m not the MAIN talent. I could be an hour…or two…late.

One by one they called the groups up.

Before each group of six athletes started their basketball audition, they went one-by-one in front of all the producers and directors and slated their names, weight, height, position, and then babbled on and on about their biggest basketball accomplishments.

I couldn’t stop looking at the clock. I needed to be at Tag...

FINALLY, the Diana Taurasi group was called.

One by one, Diana Taurasi look-a-likes rose from the stands. If the real Diana Taurasi was in the gym that day I wouldn’t have been able to pick her out because these girls were spitting images. 

6’0” feet. 160lbs. Dark hair. Tight buns.

And there I was. A long-haired girl with a loose, flowing ponytail of platinum blonde.

They called out the names of the six girls, but didn’t say mine. I sheepishly walked over anyways and told the guy I was supposed to be in this group too. He peered at the paper once more, looked past all the headshots, and found my chicken-scratch in the margin: “Nicole Kornet (added)".

I chuckled again.

“Oh yeah! I see you here! You’re in this group, too."

He told me I would be the last to introduce myself after all the other girls went.

Fine with me!

The first girl stepped up. 

Then the next, and so on and so forth.

Each girl copied the next.

"Athlete. High school MVP. Played at so and so college."

All the while, something inside of me was bubbling inside. For missing 9 out of 10 shots in my shooting tryout, I was surprisingly confident. Finally, they got to the end of the line. My turn.

I decided to go a different route. Thanks to the credibility that a name like UCLA holds, I felt as though I garnered enough experience basketball-wise to make this interview process a little more fun.

“Hi, my name is Nicole Kornet and I played basketball at UCLA. I come from an athletic family. I'm not even the best one in that family anymore. My little brother is on the Knicks and my dad played for the Bucks. I got my first scholarship offer in 8th grade from Kansas. But my claim-to-fame was beating Russell Westbrook in PIG last summer.”

Everyone laughed.

The next day I got a call from Mike Fisher. The dashing Mike Fisher.

He told me that I was going to be a principle character in a major motion picture.

He told me I was going to be the White Mamba.