Someday, I hope to write mildy funny things in obscurity!  Just like that no talent hack on Desipio!

July 24, 1997 was a special day in America.  The Cubs were red hot (they started a nine game losing streak that day) and headed for fifth place.  The Bears were headed for Ireland of all damned places to play a preseason football game.  Michael Jordan was still a Bull.  Lindsay Lohan was 11…and drunk off her ass.

On that day, in this little corner of Al Gore’s electronic brainchild, a talent-starved hack learned how to publish himself one of those Web page things.

It started out as a site called Balls! (I just kept waiting for Graig Nettles to sue…but come on, that dumbass can’t even spell Greg, he’s going to sue me?)  It was hosted awkwardly on a server at the University of Illinois.  Then it moved over to the now defunct Rotoball Web site.  Eventually, the site got a new name and a new location, and Americans by the millions came to ignore Desipio.com.

OK, you ask, why is it called Desipio?  Is that even a word?  Is it a name?  Why am I talking in all questions, in what appears to be “second person?”

I wanted to continue to call the site Balls!, but www.balls.com was taken.  (Now it appears to be run by someone who hates President Bush and can’t spell.)  The owners at the time wanted hundreds of thousands of dollars for the name.  I offered hundreds of thousands of lira.  A desperate Web search for something clever came up with a Latin word that loosely translated to “to make an ass of one’s self.”  Desipio.  Perfect.

Over the years the site evolved (for a while we had a news section and an entertainment section) then de-evolved back into what it is now.  We added a messageboard in 2001 that died a horrible, ignored, lonely death, then brought it back in late 2004 and work productivity at companies all over the Midwest, the country and the world has never been worse.  I’m proud of that.

We’ve seen some interesting things.  The final days of the Jordan Dynasty.  The Sammy Sosa-Rod Beck ’98 Cubs.  The joy and disaster of 2003.  The Bears went to the freakin’ Super Bowl.  We’ve gotten hate mail from Rob Neyer, a guy claiming to be Chip Caray’s former roommate, Dan McNeil, Peggy Kusinski, and Jock Florentine’s mother.

We were the first to find out that Kyle Farnsworth’s 2004 foot injury was caused by him punting a baseball in the bullpen before a game, we found out before anybody else that announcer Dave O’Brien would not be allowed out of his ESPN contract to take the Cubs’ job (because Dave O’Brien told us) and we once planted a phony Nomar Garciaparra trade rumor that ended up on WGN radio and “The Mighty XX” sports radio in San Diego within hours.

 We’ve handed out more nicknames that have actually stuck than Hawk Harrelson could shake a swizzle stick at.  We’ve had an unhealthy obsession with shitty Cubs’ catchers, from a detoxing Todd Hundley to Gabor Bako to the creation of the world famous Hank White Fan Club to our new favorite, Koyie Dolan Hill.  We turned on Michael Barrett and we’re pretty sure it was the final straw that forced Jim Hendry to trade him.  Hey, a guy can dream, right?

 We never liked Dave Wannstedt, we tried to like Dusty Baker and we love crazy old Lou Piniella.  We were the first to spot Bill Self’s toupee, we’ve been mentioned on national radio by Tony Kornheiser (and I actually heard it) and Steve Czaban (read it on his blog) and Dan LeBatard damn near got me a job writing for ESPN.com.

We’ve signed autographs with Bob Dernier for drunken Cubs Conventioners.  Many of our former posters (Kelly Dwyer, Drew Lawrence, Jake Luft, etc.) have gone on to far better journalistic careers than I have.  You bastards!  I hate you all!

We called Chad Ford a shaved possum, we stuck Rob Neyer with a Flannel Boy nickname that still gets used by his “peers” long after his column photo stopped showing his flannel.  We enjoyed the news, way too much, that Rob Goldman had been chatting up a sheriff’s department deputy who he thought was a 14 year old girl.  We wrote a piece of literature called “The Front Office” that was destined to become a hugely successful TV show, except that it wasn’t really that funny and we stopped doing it.

We hated Joe Morgan long before it was fashionable.  We’ve helped fill Barry Rozner’s increasingly infrequent columns with nonsensical onliners.  We picked a fight with Alex Kaseberg for no reason than he just wasn’t as funny as we thought he ought to be.

Our Gamecasts are still the funniest and best in all the land, and we perfected the art of posting inane things while pretending to be the players or managers or celebrities.  Everybody does it now.  But we still do that better.

We’ve spawned dozens of imitators, some of whom do a good job, most of whom do not.  They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.  They are full of crap.

It’s really been 10 years?  You have to remember what the Internet was in 1997.  It was nothing.  How did we not round up a ton of investment capital, go public, tank and go bankrupt?  How did we miss out on the dream?  They could have made a shitty Amanda Peet-Ashton Kutcher movie about US!  Oh, well.

There were times when it seemed pointless and that it all just needed to end.  But for now, the end isn’t in sight.

Thanks to you, the home reader, for allowing me to try to “entertain” you for at least part of the past decade.  Desipio’s always been a place where the readers are at least as funny as the writer.

Thanks to all of you, and those of you who have contributed over the years, like BC and Jake and John M and all the rest.

Here’s to ten more!

Well, at least two or three.