It’s no secret that Bright Orange Seats loves its daily intake of Deadspin posts. Over the years, we’ve grown fond of the sarcastic — sometimes whiny — tone that Mr. Will Leitch brings to the table week in and week out. You’ll understand then, why this is a day of great sadness around these parts, as Leitch rides off into the sunset after his days as editor of Deadspin come to an end somewhere around 5:00pm EST today. And while the website and it’s assortment of fine writers did a hell of a job roasting their fearless leader yesterday, we’d be remiss if we didn’t offer a few words of our own in memory of one, William H. Leitch. (We like to think his middle name is Herbert.) What follows, is a Bright Orange Eulogy: (Best viewed with “Spirit in the Sky” playing in the background. Go ahead. Set it up. We’ll wait…)

In June of 1999, I graduated high school and was under the impression that my life would be forever changed. It was the same feeling I had gotten after I kissed a girl for the first time, landed my first real, full-time job, beaten Super Mario Bros. and slept with my first 10. (Ok, she was a 6. But with the lights off, definite 10.) In my lifetime, there have been a generous handful of moments where I truly felt my life would be changed. But none of them would have as profound an impact on my life as the email I received at 9:25pm on November 9th, 2006.

Ha. Outstanding work. You have a commenting invite, right? Because if you don’t, Lord, do you ever deserve one.

Best,
Will

That signature “Ha.” would become a staple in my inbox after every single image or tip I would submit. To this day, there might not be an email I’ve sent to tips@deadspin.com that hasn’t received a reply, usually beginning with “Ha.” An unmistakable trademark of a truly kind-hearted man that has since left us.

Will Leitch will be remembered by most for his writing. Others will remember him as the guy whose speech patterns rendered the use of the period obsolete. Myself? I’ll remember him as the man who indirectly changed my life. Me. The person who was once an unemployed graphic artist reading Deadspin at home is now an art director with his own blog, who reads Deadspin at work, and on occasion, gets paid to write.

Let’s not kid ourselves. If not for this man, 95% of the blogs we read today wouldn’t be in existence. He opened doors for the common man to talk about sports — and boobs — in a public forum, where that man’s voice could be heard by more than just his mom. (Though I’m pretty sure she’s still the majority of my readership.) He shed the stereotype of the blogger in his parent’s basement, even if certain people still haven’t come around to it. He proved that emo isn’t just for 13-year old, middle school girls. Will was a pioneer. Or just a happy-go-lucky Mid-Westerner who unknowingly possessed the Magical Key.

His magic extended far beyond the resulting spike in traffic from a Blogdome mention, though. What Will created with his Macbook was a community. He brought people together in the form of a DU!AN. Or a Pants Party. He created the sports equivalent of a social networking site like Myspace. (Only I don’t get as much porn mail with this one. Still not sure if that’s good or bad.)

While he may not know it, Will Leitch was with me during some of my life’s greatest moments. The time I got my first offer to write freelance. When I first tried to convince my girlfriend that we should spend an evening at home with DU!AN, rather than go out to see a movie. That night I licked the taint of a giraffe. (True story.) Will was there, in spirit, for all of those memories.

While I’m not sure what the future holds for Deadspin or any other sports bloggers, I know that for a brief 3-year period, the blogosphere was in the best hands it could’ve possibly been in. Would someone have come along if not for Leitch? Probably. It was only a matter of time before this type of revolution happened. In all likelihood, if Will were too busy Scotch-taping the lint off his black t-shirts to hammer out posts, someone else would have stepped up to the plate and posted pictures of John Daly’s tits. Lucky for us though, his shirts were clean and he had plenty of time to sit in front of a laptop with a shit ton to say.

He created opportunity. His words sparked other’s words. Their words sparked mine. And mine… well… let’s just focus on my Photoshop for now.

Will Leitch, your words, photos and unabashed Cardinals homerism will surely be missed when Monday rolls around. We hope that wherever you are, Dee Mirich is writing poems about you and sending you all the rainbows you deserve.

Ha. Godspeed.

MoC making a brief return to say goodbye to Will…

Rick Ankiel got a little choked up when he heard the news…

Nibbles v2.0 works tirelessly to keep the site up and running on Will’s last day…

Will has moved on to a better place. A place with friends from days past…