Beyond Infinite Nets Game 85: Lost in a Cloud

I make bad decisions. Not the truly crippling ones like trying heroin or leaving my wife and child for a stranger who smiled at me on the train, but the kind of self defeating ones. I have a responsibility. For the remainder of the Nets season, what could now be

Infinite Nets Game 81: Tickets Punched

In the end, all the anxiety and melodrama were in vain. For what seems like forever, I've spent the end of this season, cursing the way things would ultimately shake out, but that's over. Neurosis is obsolete. Pity is undeserved. The Brooklyn Nets are in the playoffs. The long fear

Infinite Nets Game 80: The Antepenultimate Smoke

Have you ever considered what it takes to be a talking head? Think about Skip Bayless, and his entire livelihood. For the past 16 years, the man has woken up, compelled to craft the exact same sports arguments. It's not so much a retelling and understanding about the previous night's

Infinite Nets Game 79: Four Cigarettes To Go

How did I do this every night before? Remember that? I did these after every game. That was poorly conceived. Granted, that's how you become a #thing but still, how does anybody talk this much about basketball. Are there new insights? For one team? Every single game? Frankly, I'm surprised

Infinite Nets Week Week 23: Fading I can no longer speak about this team with any level of intelligence. That is both a combination of several factors. One is that I feel as though I've felt every emotion, and said everything that could be said from my perspective, as this team has fluctuated in between sloppy

Infinite Nets Week 22: The Playoffs Begin

Not officially I'm hitting the wall. I'd cruised though the winter, happy to have something to keep myself occupied through those cold, black nights. Sure the Nets games largely coincide with my rambunctious daughter's waning moments, rendering me into both an inattentive fan and father. That putrid combination of giving both

Infinite Nets Week 21: Brain Melt

If you can't stand the heat, shut the fuck up When I was 23 years old, I'd moved to Florida with vague ambitions. The 2004 vote was coming up, and I'd doubtlessly join the cause to help the Democrats take back the election. But mostly, I was just going to blow