Infinite Nets Week 18: All Star Week

Ian Scott McCormick

Ian Scott McCormick

Ian is a New Yorker, a father, a husband, a sports fan. He covers a variety of subjects but really only appreciates burgers and cola.
Ian Scott McCormick

As God is my witness, there was nothing that I could have done, honey.

It’s a short week. The Nets entered it having lost all of their rhythm with Spencer Dinwiddie, however they were getting other players back, and the break was coming. Like a fighter waiting for the bell, they knew that they were almost through with the latest hard part. The schedule hadn’t been too kind, but rather than find an oasis in their game with the wretched Chicago Bulls, they took the loss. But when they were at the nadir of their season just two months ago, they found the spark at the most unlikely time with a win over the Raptors, who are quite possibly the best non Golden State team in the association.

Brooklyn went up north, no longer on the lookout for moral victories but real ones. In the end, they found neither with a Kawhi Leonard dagger in the closing seconds to give the Raptors a two point win, but that’s what happens. He’s great.

Joe Harris in preparation for his trip to the Three Point Shootout in Charlotte later that week dropped six treys in the first half, and resisted the urge to do the Michael Jordan shrug as he jogged down the court. Maybe that’s the nature of the NBA today, where shooters shoot, and hitting six from downtown in a half isn’t exactly newsworthy, and this certainly isn’t the NBA Finals, but you’re Joe Harris. Live a little. Soak it up.

He didn’t. Which isn’t to say he’s dumb or boring. It probably means he’s a craftsman or something. I would have done the shrug. But I’m also a clown.

And then came the capper before the break. A road trip to the Mistake on the Lake, for a game in the Q, the new Factory of Sadness now that the Browns have a QB of the future and a genuinely exciting team, that also kind of employs a woman kicker. And like every New York team I’ve ever rooted for, they fell face first into the trap of a game against a garbage opponent. And make no mistake, the Cavaliers are now and forever will be a complete septic leak of a team. Once LeBron left, their fates were sealed. Unless they some how win the lottery and get to draft Zion Williamson, which is quite possible, because the Cavs are the goddamn New England Patriots when it comes to scoring #1 overall picks.

Nevertheless, the Nets continued to fall into the trap of giving up a marginally concerning lead, clawing their way back to tie, and then immediately giving up an 8-0 run. Jordan Clarkson and Marquese Chriss both had the games of their lives, and somehow tallied up 65 points. Meanwhile Jarrett Allen went 4 for 11 which should be impossible when you’re 7 feet tall and are taking the bulk of your shots from point blank range. He took a three. It didn’t go in the hoop. Funny that. I’ve seen Jarrett Allen chuck it a few times, and I have to say, I’m not a fan of the strategy. There’s a saying in the NBA: When you’re making 16% of your three point attempts, you’re missing 84% of them as well.

I went into the game wanting a statement win, and by the end was horribly disappointed when the game went to overtime. This is not “free basketball.” This is punishment. Then it went to double OT. And as you’d most likely surmised by the title of that video above, the game went to a third OT. It almost didn’t.

I didn’t even care. This is a tight game against a pathetically outmatched opponent who aren’t even playing Kevin Love and Tristan Thompson. I’d watched this game for three hours and wanted to do other things. I don’t even know what. I just didn’t want to watch this game anymore, against a team with their eyesore city edition jerseys. What the hell is that even meant to be? I’m told it’s a combination of fire and ice. What the hell does that have to do with Cleveland? Y’all just big GoT fans? Just say it’s water instead of ice and call it a tribute to the mighty Cuyahoga. In the third OT, the resident All Star went off and finally buried the Cavs in quick fashion. Fucking finally. Well, I guess I got that statement win. It wasn’t the statement I wanted them to make, but it counts in the standings.

And then I got my break. A few days away from basketball when I could go about my life. We’re moving. It’s official. We’re out on the 28th, and somebody else has already signed the lease to this place. It’s a done deal. And while I’m absolutely useless with basic things like organizing a move, my wife’s mother is world class. So she stopped by over the weekend, brought her notebook and started documenting what went in which boxes. My job was to take our two year old daughter to the playground so that she and my wife could do what they needed to do. I took the long walk to Prospect Park, possibly for the last time before the big vacate. My wife and I have very different ideas on how much leash to give our girl on the playground. So how’d that go? Well she fell on her face, and ripped open a gash in her bottom lip. I won’t show the pictures because a) I’m not some weirdo who is going to show you what my daughter’s face looks like, and b) it’s not as disturbing to look at as it was to experience in the moment. In the picture it looks like she’s got a really nasty cut. In the moment it’s a scene out of Apocalypto. My daughters fucking blood is everywhere. Over her white coat. On her wool mittens. On her sweater. As it turns out later, on my face as I tried to kiss her to calm her down. Other parents are looking at me. Nobody is saying shit, which is for the best because I really don’t need fake help in that moment. I needed to bust my ass to the hospital, which fortunately was only a three minute run away. In the end, they needed to call in the plastic surgeon because the gash was in a very sensitive location and I don’t want her to have a cleft lip for the rest of her life. My wife came to support her and to yell at me. It came time for surgery, which meant she had to leave the room while I had to hold my daughter down while the surgeon worked on her lip. If you’ve never seen how these things go down, the basically wrap your toddler in sheets so that they can’t move, forming a makeshift straight jacket, and then just do their thing. She was awake, which meant a lot of screaming “Daddy, I want to go home,” which is totally fine to hear when you absolutely, positively cannot cry, because your daughter is going through some really painful and confusing shit, and she has to believe that at least you are keeping your shit together. How does a surgeon stitch the lip of a talking child? Fuck if I know. Anyway, I hope our child’s medical insurance is top notch. I guess I’ll find out next month.

Also Joe Harris was in the Three Point Shootout

He was the last person invited, which is kind of fucked up, given that he’s 2nd in made 3 pointers, but whatever. It’s all a formality. This is about Steph Curry going back to his hometown of Charlotte to…finish 2nd in the damn event. Ha. Look at how bummed everybody is. They wanted this homecoming moment so goddamn badly. Nope. Joey Buckets takes the crown. He’s actually really good at hitting those damn 3’s.

As for the All Star game…I don’t care. It isn’t even an East vs West thing anymore. I don’t care what one random side does against the others, and I think the black and white jerseys are pretty ugly. I’m drafting this on Sunday night, so they’re playing right now. I’m going to assume somebody will win later. Congratulations to the team that won.

The Brooklyn Nets are 30-29 and in 6th place in the Eastern Conference standings.

Ian Scott McCormick
Ian Scott McCormick
Ian is a New Yorker, a father, a husband, a sports fan. He covers a variety of subjects but really only appreciates burgers and cola.
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Senor Weaselo

Joey Buckets has not gotten punched by, uh, who’s the basketball equivalent of Roughned Odor?comment image


Decilitre opened up after headbutting the a corner, how does something so small bleed so much??? He’ll have that scar for life.
Did he learn a lesson? No. no he did not.


Glad your daughter has an “I grew up tough” story before you got out of that neighborhood

Game Time Decision

Hope the little one is doing better now.
Nothing worse than not being able to do much for your kid than just be there when they don’t understand what’s going on.

For the Raptors game, I thought Leonard sat that game, could be mistaken. And because of you I watched some of the game. Thanks

yeah right

That’s one of the toughest things about being a parent. Both of my daughters had the dreaded trip to the emergency room for stitches. The real fun is when the other parents give you the hairy eyeball even when you had nothing to do with the injury. I’ve shouted a couple of them right the fuck down when they accused me of being the cause.

Game Time Decision

Both kids have had stitches. The oldest was on the wife’s watch. Split her chin open in the tub. Blood everywhere. The best part was 3 weeks later at swimming a flutter board hit her in the chin and opened it right up.
The youngest ran into her room one night and tripped. She opened up a hole on her chin. The weird part was there was no blood, just a 1/2″ long hole on her chin. Nothing like calling the wife at work to meet you at the emergency room with the insurance cards.


Glad your daughter is ok. I’ve got one niece that has broken her arm twice and tore an ACL. She’s a tough cookie. Luckily, none of that happened while I was watching her. I can’t imagine the wrath I would have incurred from the mother…


Joey buckets is rad.


Fun Fact: “Joey Buckets” what Kelvin Benjamin calls the KFC delivery driver.

King Hippo

my ex-wife and I had the same philosophical differences. Once, when she was flying to TN with our oldest daughter, I was at the grocery store with the twins, age 3. The one who insisted on walking beside the cart did a sudden change of direction and face planted onto her Happy Meal toy.

It only required one or two small stitches (bridge of her nose), but as you no doubt learned, the face bleeds like a motherfucker. I ran carrying one to the bathroom to get some paper towels, the other running behind me because no choice. The non-injured twin said “Oh, Daddy, my heart is broken.”

That was a fun fucking phone call, I assure you. But you’re no doubt getting double Russian guilt, with mother-in-law around, too.


Just say it’s water instead of ice and call it a tribute to the mighty Cuyahoga.

That’s the stuff.