Eager to see a gaggle of hungry sportswriters make 35 double-doubles disappear faster than Lance Burton could, Jeff Passan and I went to In-N-Out tonight for a little cheer in the form of mustard-fried animal-style deliciousness. Back at Bellagio, we were hailed as burger kings and it should go without saying that I haven't seen so many happy baseball writers since the Phillies ensured we wouldn't have to go back to Tampa Bay for Game 6 of the World Series.
Since everyone here has been working hard in this Internet, information-first age, we were only too happy to share with our fellow writers, just as we were glad to give our hungry cabbie and the hotel's taxistand lady a free burger. However, the security guards who immediately started tailing us because we were carrying huge cardboard boxes through the casino weren't as lucky.
It was actually pretty cool how quickly they became suspicious we were toting explosives inside a Solo cup receptacle, though.
In-N-Out: The Official Burger Joint of East and Midwest Baseball Scribes Everywhere.
This post is dedicated to the In-N-Out hatin' fellas over at Walkoff Walk.