Barrett Robbins. Eugene Robinson. Stanley Wilson.

As we've seen in previous years, the night before the Super Bowl hasn't always worked out so well. Trips to Tijuana, mysterious arrests, dangerous all-nighters in Miami hotel rooms -- they're as much a part of Super Bowl history as the NFL Films theme music.

When I woke up early Sunday morning, I was happy to see that there were no such incidents involving any Bears or Colts players Saturday evening. Curfews were met, game plans were discussed. Everyone stayed out of trouble.

It's good to know someone was in bed at a normal hour in Miami last night. Everyone else and their mother were out and about going insane.

After a wonderful dinner at the Capital Grille in which my party sat at a table wedged between Commissioner Goodell's and ESPN's Mark Jones', I headed down to the nightclub Mansion. If you're not familiar with Mansion, it's one of those places you always read about in "Page Six" or see on "Entertainment Tonight". It's the kind of joint where someone reports "Paris Hilton spit in Lindsay Lohan's drink, and then Colin Farrell ate a live worm out of Jared Leto's ear, and then Wilmer Valderama made out with Kate Hudson -- all the while, Tommy Lee was on stage playing piano naked." Like Marquee in New York or Sky Bar in Los Angeles, it's one of those spots.

Well, I don't usually go to "those spots".

I made the exception (or they actually let me in, depends on who you ask) Saturday night for the Penthouse Super Bowl Party.

Awesome event. Scouring the place for celebrities, I see a face I recognize. White guy, shaved head, very serious looking. And then I place it -- it's Buccaneers quarterback, Bruce Gradkowski.

Now here's the best part. Whereas other celebrities at these parties roll with 15 guys, spend thousands of dollars on VIP tables, and drink Cristal like it's Crystal Light, Gradkowski seemed to come with just one friend. Where do I spot him? Not behind a velvet rope or hanging from a chandelier. But rather, in the corner amongst the masses, surveying a buffet-style spread of food, eating mini cheeseburgers.

I approach him and introduce myself.

He's ecstatic when I tell him how much I appreciate the MAC quarterbacks.

We finish our conversation, and I retreat back to my crew. I look back over, and Gradkowski's going for seconds on the mini cheeseburgers.

Love that guy.

Jets center Nick Mangold was in the house, too. Really nice kid. When you're at a porn magazine's party on South Beach on a Saturday night in the off-season, the last thing you want to talk about is Xs and Os. But Mangold was all about it. We talked for a few minutes about the job he and D'Brickshaw Ferguson did as rookies on the New York O-line before a wobbly Jets fan came running over, doing the "J-E-T-S, JETS, JETS, JETS" chant, pointing in Mangold's face. It was actually pretty funny. Mangold loved it and posed for pictures with the guy.

Matt Geiger was there, too. Rony Seikaly and Bimbo Coles, however, were not.

I saw Kevin Federline. He was just chilling in the corner. About 30 of the most beautiful women I've ever seen come up to him and ask for pictures. He declines all of them. Just dismisses them. Not interested. This blew my mind.

What a life this guy must lead. Two years ago, he's a back-up dancer buying baseball caps at Lids in the mall -- and now, he's a multi-millionaire something (I'm not sure what he does), in the VIP section of a huge Super Bowl party, TURNING AWAY women.

Incredible.

Just as I began to hit the wall (I had one too many of the Gradkowski-approved mini cheeseburgers), the lights dim and the bass starts going. I look to the front of the club, and Snoop Dogg's on stage.

What?! Was this for real?

It was.

Snoop then goes on to play an incredible hour and a half long set, filled with every one of his hits. Wearing a Franco Harris throwback, he just ripped through his catalogue, one by one, with the place going nuts. He got his uncle up on the stage dancing to "Gin and Juice", and Arch Bishop Don "Magic" Juan did his thing dressed in glasses and a top hat.

Leaving the club after the Snoop set, I look towards Gradkowski's buffet table. He's nowhere to be found.

But they are handing out egg and cheese croissants. Don't mind if I do!

And with that, my night was done. Started with burgers, ended with eggs. And in the middle, there were NFL quarterbacks, Snoop Dogg and Penthouse Pets.

Eh, typical Saturday night.