What a woman and Whataburger

I once read that the best way to get people to read your blog is to put a picture of a beautiful, nearly naked, woman at the top of the page. However, I've avoided that practice because it smacks of sexism and of being desperate. 

But I have a legitimate excuse. 

Last night, I covered Team USA softball in an exhibition against a Texas all-star team in Killeen.

Pitching for America was Jennie Finch, the babe in the gilded swimsuit. It was a good night. 

Definitely a very cool experience to cover the team before it heads off to the Olympics, and interviewing Finch was fun. Her husband, minor league pitcher Casey Daigle, used to play for the Missoula Osprey and lived with the Moores, folks I know in the Garden City. 

And while Jennie and I never met when she was in Montana, we'll always have Killeen. Or I will, at least. 

I had to file my story from a Quality Inn in Killeen and didn't get home until almost midnight. But after I filed, I stopped for dinner at a Whataburger, a regional fast food chain. Gosh, it was great. It was the best fast food burger I've had in years. The fries still tasted like potatoes and the burger actually came in paper wrapping. My soda cup was styrofoam. It felt like the good ol' days (1994). 

Also, Blair insists that I mention my expedition to "pick up chicks" the other night at a local brewhaus called the Gingerman. The plan was to have Bill work on his game while Blair and friends supervised and offered criticisms. 

So here's how it went down, as Elizabethan sonnet: 

She sauntered in the bar and twirled her hair

I saw her, but did not budge.

Blair said, "Get your ass over there," 

and gave me a little extra nudge.

I trudged to the bar and bought the lady a Blue Moon,

she said thank you and we began to chat. 

However, over this one I did not swoon, 

and that should have been that. 

But I could not stop her from talking inane,

So I sat there and planned my out.

And though clearly bordering on insane,

She finally departed, a Bill of her own without.

Relieved was I and proud of my game, 

But for the gal being a dud, it's Blair that I blame.