“It can be hard to be a Gen-Z commentator because there’s a language barrier — being raised with so much technology and intricate social-media platforms and the language used.”
Photo: Laurie Hernandez/Instagram
If we could draw your attention away from Raygun for a moment — it’s hard, we know — a rainbow that beamed down into the 2024 Summer Olympics in human form was former gymnast Laurie Hernandez, whose work as an analyst and commentator for NBC elevated the events with a decisively Gen-Z spirit. “Not to be a silly goose, but it rocked,” she says. “It was a lot more fun than I thought it might be.” Working alongside Rich Lerner to provide the network’s live daytime commentary, Hernandez, who was part of Team USA’s gold-medal squad at the 2016 Olympics, spent the past few months preparing for the gig by doing “mock runs” on Zoom and privately attending national competitions to work out her speaking tone. Once the initial nerves of “putting on a professional hat” in Paris dissipated, she realized there was equal room to maintain a sense of humor and gravitas. “The first day I worked, I started at 8 in the morning and finished at 11 at night, and we were pretty much on air the entire time,” Hernandez recalls. “When the end of the day came, I couldn’t not be myself. I was exhausted. I had no energy left to uphold anything that wasn’t me.”
Tell me how you realized you had a talent for commentating.
I kind of didn’t. NBC had a lot of faith in this working out. I don’t think I was good to start off with. It started off in Tokyo. My agent was connected with NBC during that time, and there was this understanding that if I made the Olympic team, I would go, and if I didn’t make the team, I would go and talk about gymnastics for a show called Tokyo Live. Two of the presenters from American Ninja Warrior, Matt Iseman and Akbar Gbajabiamila, also did the show, so you can imagine their energy is sky-high. These men have diaphragms for megaphones. It was so tough not making that Olympic team, but they lifted up the energy so hard. I mirrored a lot of that and chameleoned into their space. They gave me the floor to talk about things that I wanted to nerd out about. That went well, so NBC called me again to do the next national competition. But I made a lot of rookie mistakes. I’d be like, Yeah, that makes sense, I’ve literally never done this before. I still have a bit of imposter syndrome.
What were some of those rookie mistakes?
A lot of it was my own habits, like repeated phrases. There’s a way to get to the truth of what’s happening and it takes practice. There’s microphones, like ASMR microphones, built into the equipment in gymnastics. So a sound might not sound a lot when you’re competing, but to a viewer, these high-quality sounds — the bars squeaking, the tumbling of the floor, the springs under the beam — people want to listen to that as much as possible. I did a lot of work making sure, Let’s watch this routine, and unless anything big happens, great or drastic, we can just let the routine stand on its own. Then we can use the 10 to 15 seconds afterward to break down whatever I just saw. It took a lot of time to button those phrases that can convey a lot of information in a short amount of time. Being concise is key.
I enjoy interviewing Jeopardy! champions and often hear stories about the methodical preparation that goes into competing. Being an analyst isn’t the same as hitting the Alex Trebek stage, but I imagine there’s a few parallels between how you approached learning, digesting, and communicating knowledge of this sport.
I’ll always find this a little bit tough — and there’s nothing wrong with this — the generic name for a skill. Using Simone Biles as an example, I was so used to calling most skills “a triple double” as opposed to “the Biles.” Whoever does a skill first at an international competition gets the skill named after them. So a lot of times people take those last names as gymnastics jargon. I’m learning for the first time what a lot of these skills are, because I only know their generic names. But when there’s only ten seconds of explaining, if people already know the technical name for the skill, then my generic naming isn’t for you. It’s for the audience at home who has no idea what’s going on, so I’m gonna have to call it a “triple double.” I want to ensure this commentary in this sport is accessible to all audiences.
You joked that you were thrilled to be trusted with the job as a “chronically online Olympian turned drama major.” You’re the first major instance of a Gen-Z analyst at this level of competition. Did you go into this experience feeling like you needed to prove something?
You know, not necessarily. Maybe it was because I’m in drama school and being yanked out of my shell while there. By the time I went on air, I was so excited to share what I knew. Yes, there was a lot of watching other people commentate, but I wasn’t paying attention to what people like and don’t like. It was more so: Does this feel right to me, and if it doesn’t, how can I feel more like myself? There are so many hours in live television, and there comes a point where there’s no more energy. It was honestly terrifying to get so much positive feedback. I got thousands and thousands of messages of people being like, We’re watching you, girl, great work! If people didn’t like it, it’s tough to think about what that feedback might have looked like. The internet is very easy to be an unkind place.
Your term ghost deductions is now part of the gymnastics vocabulary. How did that arrive in your mind?
There are so many deductions that happen with a routine. In gymnastics, there’s a massive book called the “Code of Points” that updates every four years. It’s wild. There are arrow diagrams — this skill needs to be at this precise angle to get credit. The skills have their start values based on letters, and all of those letters are in the Code of Points. It’s truly a black hole of deductions. I’m not a judge, so I don’t know how deep it runs, but as a retired Olympian, I know enough.
On air, I don’t want to be talking through a routine and pointing out all of these deductions. There’s simply no reason to do that. I don’t want to chip down the athlete. Of course, a mistake has to be acknowledged, because that’s my job. But I don’t think it makes sense to make an unnecessary critique if it doesn’t make sense to a wide audience. So “ghost deduction” arrived in my mind. You’re not going to be able to see it, and, hell, I’m probably not gonna be able to see it. But it’s definitely there. A lot of people were like, She’s just not good enough to point out those deductions. I’m like, No, pookie, there’s literally no time!
What was the most interesting thing you observed from the booth that you decided not to offer commentary on? I’m thinking in terms of interpersonal player or team dynamics from the sidelines, or even something that unfolded at the judges’ table.
There’s a lot that doesn’t get shared. I only ever want to stay positive. Not blindly positive with golden retriever energy — I want to keep things as subjective and factual as possible — but that can make any commentary sound harsh and critical with the gymnasts. You need to be factual while uplifting the athletes at the same time. Sometimes, you just want to say, That was objectively not good. I found myself holding back a little bit in that sense, to not just be like, Damn, that was really bad. Sometimes, those gut instincts have to be reeled back in.
Go back to gymnastics school!
I think of it like this: If someone talked about me while I was on the competition floor, would I be offended? Most of the time the answer is yes. A good barometer is: Would the gymnast also agree with what I’m saying when she watches back her routine? We work with researchers up in the booth, and their job is to slide note cards of research, which could be something like, This girl last year didn’t do super-well on this event, so it might be good to acknowledge that for the gravity of the situation. There were a couple times where there was a glaring deduction, and then the researcher and I would look at each other, cock our eyebrows, and be like, Hmm. And continue on with our day.
Are you hopeful this will turn into a permanent career?
I would love to come back. If this floats their boat, I’m here. It can be hard to be a Gen-Z commentator because there’s a language barrier — being raised with so much technology and intricate social-media platforms and the language used. I’m glad I was able to appeal to so many audiences and make so many people laugh.
The situation with Jordan Chiles, judges, committees, and her bronze-medal floor routine left an upsetting question mark at the end of these Games. As someone who now has a deeper understanding of the sport, what did you make of the verdict? Was it the correct one?
I don’t know if a correct answer necessarily exists. It’s the collision of the logic of the rules and emotions of the athletes. I’d prefer to keep my opinions out of it, because with commentary, that’s what makes things messy. Submitting inquiries is common to ensure everything was accurately given credit. The competition moves fast. I’m not saying judges are faulty, but when you watch things in slow motion, of course you’re going to find something different. They’ve been doing that for decades. Does it make it right or wrong? That’s simply not my job and above my pay grade. Jordan’s inquiry got approved, her score got moved, and she won bronze. Unfortunately, we watched on live television this poor Romanian girl getting crushed because she thought the medal was hers. Countries aside, you can understand that feeling. Her hand is on her stomach and you can watch her heartbreak. It was tough to watch while we were celebrating Jordan.
I can’t imagine how Jordan is feeling. We know she’s heartbroken. All of this is on a global scale, and it’s a really messy situation. I hate to say it, but it’s very important to the International Olympic Committee that they get that medal back. A lot of people are like, I just wouldn’t give it back. I’m sure this has crossed every single athlete from decades prior before something like this happened. I teeter on “chaotic neutral” and “chaotic good,” but I’m more chaotic neutral in terms of wanting everyone to be happy. Give them all a medal for hell’s sake. It doesn’t make sense to me how it got to this.
Some other enjoyable on-air personalities during this Olympics were Snoop Dogg galavanting around Paris and Colin Jost doing the surf report in Tahiti. Who do you think has terrific, untapped potential that the Olympics should utilize for the next Games?
Oh, that’s great to think about, but I don’t have an instinctual answer. It’s hilarious that Snoop Dogg has become the USA’s mascot. This man has shown up to so many competitions. When he showed up to women’s gymnastics, you could tell Team USA caught him in the crowd and they all did a little dance together. I’m like, Is this the American spirit we’ve been waiting for? Who was the genius who thought to pair him and Martha Stewart? Snoop legit said, When is somebody gonna match my freak, and they said, We actually have an idea, have you ever heard of Martha Stewart? And they let them cook, literally and figuratively.
