If you’re a former reader of All Things NIT, thanks for following us over here. If you’re new to us, thanks for trying us out.
My name is Stuart McGrath. For the last couple years, on and off, I’ve written under the pseudonym “Long-Form Stu” over at All Things NIT, along with my childhood friend (and now roommate) NIT Stu, my cousin Joe Stunardi, and a few other Stu’s.
Over time, All Things NIT outgrew its name. While I’d argue we did cover all things pertaining to the NIT, we also covered other things. Specifically, NIT Stu became a Joe Kelly devotee, all three of us let our Cubs fandom seep through, and Joe became an FCS Bracketologist.
In short, we needed a new name, and as NIT Stu quit his job and mine kind of expired, we decided to give monetizing the blog a shot.
So, here it is: The Barking Crow. We’re going broader this time with what we say our content is: You’ll notice various references to Sports & Life, the two primary (and vague-enough) categories under which everything on here will fall.
We aren’t fully set up on here yet. We need to get the shop up and running, and Joe’s working hard on his college basketball modeling, which I’m personally awaiting eagerly. Still, NIT Stu really wanted to publish a Daytona 500 Preview tomorrow, and eventually we had to pull the trigger and get this show online, so here we are.
As we roll out the website, let us know your thoughts—what you like, what you don’t like, what you’d like us to change. We still have that same old email: allthingsnit@gmail.com, and we’re all on Twitter.
We’re still the same guys, and our friends (Beef Stu, South Dakota Stu, Disco Stu, etc.) aren’t disappearing. NIT Stu is going to wrap a few things up over at All Things NIT still, too, but even so, we’re The Barking Crow now, named after a story I read in a bookstore in New Hampshire once that goes like this:
A couple and their young son were out hiking when they heard the bark of a terrier in the woods beside them. Worried the poor dog might be stuck, they pushed through a few branches and quickly found themselves in a clearing.
There, in the clearing, barking, stood a crow.
The couple glanced, confused, at one another, but the boy took a few, short, toddler steps toward the bird.
The bird stopped barking.
The boy stood a few feet from the winged creature, mouth open, eyes wide, processing what he was seeing.
The bird stood a few feet from the boy, beak closed, head tilted, examining the visitor.
“Why are you barking?” asked the boy.
The crow looked toward the boy’s parents, now staring at the crow, much like their son, then turned its head back to the boy.
“I like the sound.”
We hope you like the sound.
