Hench and I headed to South Beach in the afternoon to get a feel for what was going on in the heart of all the madness. Chad Johnson and Steven Jackson were sponsoring some Motorola Dance Contest over on the beach. We went. It was dumb.

We stuck around for a while, though, because Hench wanted to thank Steven Jackson for the incredible second half and Overtime he had against the Redskins earlier this year. The performance, apparently, turned the tides for his fantasy football team's season this year. After ten minutes of watching Chad Johnson do an array of bizarre dances, we'd had enough. He'd have to thank Jackson some other time.

A funny observation Hench made (can I refer to him as "My buddy Hench" yet?) was of the great contrast in the types of women strolling along South Beach this week. Walking side by side, you'll see the most perfect looking woman in the world: 6-foot-2, mocha skin, curves, perfect eyes, a smile that will light a room.

Then to her direct left, you'll see a 300-pound bowling ball of a dame, waddling while wearing a No. 93 Freeney jersey and her hair stacked up in a bun.

Just a fascinating mixing of worlds.

I had to check out the intersection of 8th and Ocean. If I could run into "Vincy" from the MTV show "8th and Ocean", my trip would be complete. Alas, there was no sight of Vincy, the twins, or any of the other ridiculous human beings on that program. I'd just have to save my MTV teen reality show sightings for the trip to Los Angeles later this year. And yes, I WILL punch that Spence kid from "The Hills" in the face when I see him. How DARE you treat my Heidi this way.

In our journeys on the strip, Hench and I tried taking count of the split between Bears and Colts fans. Last year, Detroit became mini Pittsburgh. And, to this day, I'm convinced it played a role in the game. The entire week, all you met were Steelers fans. They were everywhere, flooding the city with incredible mustaches and terrific accents. Seconds before that opening kickoff, there was just a sea of yellow in that crowd. The terrible towels were out, the momentum had been set, and the Steelers had a true advantage.

It seems 50/50 in Miami at this point. For every Bears fan, you'll see a Colts one. The most common jerseys being worn, believe it or not, are not the expected Manning and Urlacher. But rather, Harrison and Grossman. One woman - shaped like a wedge of cheddar - was sporting an old retro Neal Anderson Bears jersey. I had to introduce myself. The jersey was incredible. I asked her for a prediction on the weekend's game.

Her answer?

An Ivan Drago-like statement said in the voice of Mrs. Garrett from "Facts of Life":

"We're going to annihilate them."

Confidence. I like that.

I ask a Colts fan, a guy wearing one of those ridiculous tee shirts that has the words "The Man" and an arrow up, and "The Legend" with an arrow down, what he thinks.

"Gonna beat the ever living crap out of em, man. Whooooooooo!" His friends then all jump all over him, and one pours his "hurricane" drink all over me.

And then, at that very moment, a Scandinavian woman with perfect skin and eyes as blue as the ocean, walks right by all of us.

Drenched in alcohol, we all just turn and stare.

Then, quietly, in almost a whisper, the "ever living crap" guy lets out a line I'll never forget in the most incredible Midwestern accent I'd ever heard: "Maaaan...She's so darn hot."

Only on South Beach, folks.