On February 4th, I’ll be leaving SportsGrid to take a position with USA Today as their senior editor of Sports Digital Properties. I’m extremely excited about my new gig, but also sad: sad that I’ll be leaving the site I worked so hard on, sad that I’ll be leaving all of the great people in my office, and sad that I won’t get to work with Glenn, Dylan, Jordan, and Joe anymore. But I’m also sad for another reason.
For the past three years, I’ve been living a lie. It’s a dark lie.
A stinky lie.
And it’s a lie I can no longer carry with me.
I’m a human baby who knows how to use a computer.
And that’s a photo of me.
You may have seen this photo on our site before, and assumed it was a stock photograph of a surprised baby on a laptop. “Why is he surprised?” You thought. “That baby looks like he just got some bad news… maybe the baby had just been served divorce papers?”
No, people. No. That baby’s not a bad husband.
That baby’s me.
I don’t know who the person in my Twitter avatar is. A quick Google search for “Bro, Douche” gave me the offending photo, and from there, my fake online identity was birthed. As my tiny digits crafted crude, sports-related farts snark, that fake identity grew legs.
Pudgy, chunkerdoodle legs.
Eventually, an invitation was made for a television appearance. As my adorably pint-sized mind scrambled to find a way to keep the ruse afloat, I briefly thought about scrapping the whole thing. “Human babies don’t make TV appearances,” I thought. “I’ll be found out.”
But my vanity soon got the better of me, and there was only one place to go (on TV).
Unfortunately, it would mean my tangled web of babylies would only become more so.
There was, after all, one big hurdle for my diminutive babybody to clear: I’m a human baby. A human baby who knows how to use a computer, sure, but a human baby nonetheless. I couldn’t just waltz into the studio and say, “Hey guys, I’m ready to be on TV!” The TV people wouldn’t know what to do with me. Plus I can’t walk or talk yet.
Soon, though, I’d think of a solution. Just days ahead of my appearance, as I drove my rental car through Santa Monica, I came upon a pale theater major named Joaquin. Down on his luck and desperate for jerky money, an agreement was made: I paid him a handsome sum to be my television avatar, and fed him lines through an earpiece from an air-conditioned control room in southern Costa Mesa.
I hope you used that money for good, Joaquin.
The truth shall set you free, right? I’m human baby –a human baby who knows how to use a computer– and I lied to you all. I’m leaving for good, though, so you no longer have to see my byline.
My byline of baby lies.
Before I go, I need to thank my co-workers, Glenn Davis…
…and Dylan Murphy.
Glenn, you’re an amazing writer. It’s been an honor working alongside you, and you’ve been a great friend. The world is your Photoshop image, just waiting for you to put a top hat on it.
Dylan… you owe me 20 bucks. Also: those videos you do with the Xs and Os breakdowns are original, well-written, and show a surprisingly deep knowledge of the game. You’re going to be a fine sportswriter some day. (You already are, actually.)
You guys are the best co-workers –and friends– a baby could hope for. Shine bright like a diamond, you smelly lot.
I’m out, son.
Sincerely,
Dan Fogarty
(Former) Editor-in-chief, BabyGrid SportsGrid
