Before you were a WNBA exec, you were a Toronto basketball fan. I seem to recall you partying during the Raptors’ 2019 championship run. I grew up enjoying the Raptors but didn’t have the means to go to games. Then superfan Nav Bhatia started letting me sit with him. I’m spoiled: I fell in love with the team watching courtside. I moved to LA in 2015 but flew back and forth during the 2019 playoffs. It was a top-five experience of my life. I could have watched Game 6 in Oakland, but I chose Jurassic Park. I thought nothing would ever top that moment—until I heard that a women’s pro team was coming to Toronto.
For a while, women’s sports were caught in a catch-22: potential owners said the market was too small, but the market couldn’t grow without people having an opportunity to watch the games. It’s about potential versus proof. Where male athletes get evaluated on potential, female athletes have to prove themselves just to get a chance.
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How does one acquire a stake in a pro sports team? I got an email from Tempo president Teresa Resch in July of 2024, then we hopped on a Zoom. In show business, you’re supposed to play hard to get. I did not. I told her, “This is the best call I’ve ever had! There’s no way I can’t be part of this!” Teresa appreciated that. We bonded over our shared loves: sports, Toronto and advancing women. Eight or nine months later, I got an email from owner Larry Tanenbaum. He said yes.
Did you celebrate? I picked up my dog, Scarbro, blasted my pump-up song, “Right Above It” by Lil Wayne featuring Drake, and we danced around my kitchen for 20 minutes.
Becoming a co-owner of a sports franchise feels particularly baller. Thank you so much for saying that. I couldn’t agree more. In 2020, I bought in to Angel City FC of the National Women’s Soccer League. That came my way via entrepreneur Alexis Ohanian, Tempo co-owner Serena Williams’s husband. But having a stake in Toronto just hits different. The city made me who I am. I have a 416 tattoo on my neck. It’s the reason I can connect with so many different cultures. Sporting events in LA don’t have the same community as Toronto.
Because we see ourselves as underdogs? We care more. We have gratitude. I was there when the Rams won the Super Bowl, and I swear, fans celebrated for maybe five minutes. In 2019, we celebrated the Raptors’ win for weeks. Torontonians would walk around saying, “We won,” not “They won.”
Spoken like a true chief hype officer. Is this a real job? The team asked me how I’d like to be involved. I’m no Serena—I don’t have excellence in sport. But I do know how to connect with audiences. I will big-up the Tempo. You should see me at Angel City FC games. I’m the loudest one there.
I’m picturing you courtside at Scotiabank Arena with a megaphone. I don’t even need a megaphone. I’m that loud.
You have more than 14 million followers. Will you try to make them Tempo fans? Definitely. My fans are global, and I plan to introduce them all to the Toronto Tempo. In 2024, I played in the NBA All-Star Celebrity Game. Months later, on my annual trip to India, I visited an all-girls school in Uttar Pradesh, and they had this cardboard cutout on display of me playing in that game. So it’s about more than sports; it’s about empowering girls.
As a branding expert, what are your thoughts on the name and logo? I absolutely love it. We’re setting the tone and pace to change the way that women and girls are treated in sport. I must also selfishly add that the colours—light blue and maroon—look great against my brown skin. Of course, you’re always going to get some people who aren’t into it.
I remember when the Raptors debuted their logo and people called it Barney the Dinosaur. Right, and now it’s beloved. In the Tempo’s case, fan feedback on the branding has been overwhelmingly positive.
You came up on YouTube in the 2010s. Was the internet a more innocent place then? It’s always been tough for people when they reach a certain level of success. I still get hurt when I read mean things about myself online, but I have a system in place. I go to therapy, and I journal almost every day. If I have a new project out, I’ll wait a week before reading any comments or reviews. You need time to form your own opinions before considering those of others.
You also hosted your own late-night show for two seasons on NBC. What were some takeaways from that experience? I learned so much on that show—how to deal with crazy schedules and be unfazed by any production. But my main takeaway was to focus on the things that fill me up. Sometimes, as a woman, you end up in situations that don’t make you happy, but you feel compelled to go through with them because someone gave you the chance.
You mentioned Teresa Resch, who is a Toronto transplant. Have you shown her your favourite haunts? We’ve only had one lunch—she picked Miku, a great sushi spot. But, when I come back to Toronto, I want a Jamaican patty. I want to go to Swiss Chalet. My first job was at a Harvey’s–Swiss Chalet combo.
There’s something magical about that dipping sauce. I actually get it shipped to LA.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
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Courtney Shea is a freelance journalist in Toronto. She started her career as an intern at Toronto Life and continues to contribute frequently to the publication, including her 2022 National Magazine Award–winning feature, “The Death Cheaters,” her regular Q&As and her recent investigation into whether Taylor Swift hung out at a Toronto dive bar (she did not). Courtney was a producer and writer on the 2022 documentary The Talented Mr. Rosenberg, based on her 2014 Toronto Life magazine feature “The Yorkville Swindler.”