Do you remember Cryptsy? That fly-by-night crypto exchange that appeared more like a video arcade than a bona fide financial site? In the early days of digital currency, exchanging one of your Bitcoins for a handful of Dogecoins was more akin to throwing money at a slot machine than making a carefully considered investment. Cryptsy was the place for a skyrocketing game of digital cat and mouse: both in digital currency and in digital projectile speed. my website
But behind the scenes, the whole operation was perched on a rotten foundation. Cryptsy debuted in 2013 when altcoins were spreading like rabbits and observers’ heads were spinning at their proliferation. It listed dozens — sometimes hundreds — of trading pairs. They were so nonfamous that it felt as if a caffeine-riddled teenager had programmed them overnight. No one cared. If it was named, Cryptsy had a trading pair for it. Prices soared and crashed, often at a dizzying pace — you were nailing it big one second, back to living on ramen the next.
If you ever looked at Cryptsy and noticed that it took 10 minutes or more to make a trade you knew that something fishy was going on. Withdrawals took forever. And the pleas for support disappeared without a trace. Cryptsy is alive and well! Rumors began to spread across multiple social media: “Is Cryptsy done?” “Who’s running the show?” The shadowy admin known as Big Vern sounded straight out of a gangster novel. Was he a crypto pioneer, or just a con artist in disguise? Nobody had a clear answer.
And then it all fell apart. Starting in early 2016, users signed in to be greeted by locked accounts and cheery messages about “technical issues.” Their coins? Gone. Vanished like the next-top-hat trick of a magician. Big Vern said he had been hacked. But for many the truth was more sinister — more like a self-inflicted inside job, they said. And millions of dollars of Bitcoin were gone. Social media exploded with rage. Lawsuits followed. Big Vern disappeared as well — word was, he’d run off to Florida. The stolen money? Still missing, just like that sock in the dryer that never shows up.
Cryptsy’s collapse was ugly, but memorable. It was felt as a permanent scar across the crypto world. It was a reminder of why transparency, safety and adult supervision in digital finance are so important. If you ever used Cryptsy, you still carry the memory around like a war wound. It’s embarrassing and enlightening — the type of tale that you rehash at parties when someone reminisces about old crypto times. That’s not the right question, however; the question is, did you withdraw in time? Or is your screenshot with a zeroed-out balance still circulating, unretweeted and un-liked?
Now, when a brand new exchange pledges sky-high returns, savvy traders think back to Cryptsy. They double-check withdrawal times. They smirk — sometimes bitterly — when they hear reference to “technical difficulties.” In the crypto world, once bitten, twice shy isn’t just a saying. It’s a survival rule.