We don't watch a lot of sports in my house.
"Who's that?" my wife asked as I finished my coffee in front of a television screen depicting a dark-haired woman crying.
"Danica Patrick," I said. "She races Indy cars, and just proved that she's not Anna Kournikova."
"Because she won, even though she's a hot chick?" my wife inquired, watching the screen. Well, at least that part was obvious.
"Yeah, and even though both of them have posed for the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue. It's too bad she'd crying, though; it's bad for the image. But then again, I'll bet a lot of guys cried the first time they won an Indy race. Turns out, though, that it's not only the first big race she's won, but it's the first Indy race that a woman has won."
"So she caught some flack for posing in swimsuits?"
"Yeah, people said that she was just trying to get by on her looks. But, hell-- she's marketing herself, and there was a lot of interest in her, and..."
"...And she was the best person on the track today. So she was a young, attractive woman in her 20's --looking as hot as she was ever going to look-- who chose to pose for pictures in a swimsuit?" My wife asked. "Good for her."
"I'm so glad we see things the same way."
I may be paraphrasing some of the above.