There are great guys and there are GREAT guys. A stranger who let's you use their cell phone when yours runs out of juice? Great guy. A cab driver who chops the price because he accidentally takes the wrong route? Great guy. A waiter who lets you know that the dish you ordered isn't the best thing on the menu, and then suggests a better, cheaper one? Great guy.

Dave from the Hyatt in Downtown Miami? Well, he's a GREAT guy.

As you might have gathered from some of the earlier posts, the hotel I've been posting up at hasn't been exactly ideal for writing purposes. There's no desk, so all my in-hotel writing has been done while sitting with my legs crossed in a bed. After a few attempts to get in some of the other media hotels, it looked like a futile effort. Oh well. No biggie. It was worth the shot.

And then Hench and I met Dave.

The Hyatt is literally around the block from the hotel we were staying at. Looking at it from our windows is similar to Kelly Kapowski watching the Bayside prom from outside the school. So close...yet so far away.

Coming back on Thursday afternoon, we decided to pop in at the Hyatt and check out availability. Figured it couldn't hurt. We told Dave the situation, and instead of him giving us the old heave ho, he gave the always appreciated "Let me go ask my manager." You know how those usually end up? A smile, a shake of the head, and a business card. "We'll call you if anything opens up."

Only, Dave-a Cincinnati native, a big Ken Anderson/James Brooks era Bengals fan, and a true king amongst men-came back with an unexpected response.

"We've got two rooms open. Let's do this."

And then he slapped us five!

Yep, the hotel desk guy slapped us five.

Within seconds, we were back at our old hotel, packing up our belongings, and saying goodbye to the staff.

Outhouse to the Penthouse!

I hop in the elevator on cloud nine. Who's standing there? Cris Carter? Hotelmates! So amped about what just went down, I don't even bother talking to the ex-Viking and future Hall of Fame receiver. After all, who cared about him?

I'd just met Dave from the Hyatt.

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.

Thursday morning started bright and early with the production of the "Super Bowl Roundtable."

Hench and Schein have both done hundreds of TV appearances in their lives. Adam's on SNY's Daily News Live, offering expert analysis once a week during the football season. Hench is on "Best Damn Sports Show" all the time. He's the mastermind behind all those top ten lists they've been running in the past year.

 Me? Well, I once hosted the Camp Lokanda 2001 summer video yearbook. That's the extent of my imdb.com page.

So was I nervous? Surprisingly, no. I've seen so many unbearable sports "talking head" shows in my life, that I had the routine down pat going in. I thought about all the things I hated about the guys on those programs, and decided to do everything they don't. What'd that mean?

1. No screaming. This is sports. There's no reason to ever scream over sports.

2. No interrupting anyone. Just be civil. People appreciate that.

3. Don't laugh at something that's not funny. I hate unnecessary laughter. HATE it.

4. Don't rush.

 Minutes before we went on air, our moderator, Charissa Thompson, takes out some sort of strange brush apparatus. I'd never seen one of these before. Within seconds, she's dabbing it into some bizarre powder substance, and patting it all over my face. What was going on? What was this strange process? Then, it hit me.

For the first time in my life (besides that brief confused stage in 9th grade), I was wearing makeup!

"You're schvitzing," Schein tells me. "Calm down, Schrager. You'll do fine."

He's incredible. That voice - that remarkable voice - well, it's no act. That's his real voice! We're talking about his upcoming wedding - "Just had a cake tasting - went with the chocolate mouse. It's good stuff." We're talking about South Beach - "Jogging on that strip is just a delight". Even the nightlife - "The Clevelander's my spot this week". He says it all in that incredible, unmistakable voice. I want to hear him narrate an episode of E! True Hollywood Story, or do a movie trailer for a summer blockbuster film. Hell, I'd pay to hear him read the Forum section of this month's Penthouse. I couldn't think of anything funnier. The voice is that good.

As we're getting ready to get on the set, I realize something - I'm afraid of three things: heights, sharks, and the bad guy from the movie "Candyman". Considering the set is set up 300 feet above shark infested waters, I'd have to get over the first two awfully fast. For the hell of it, I just said "Candy Man" five times into the bathroom mirror, too.

The video went fairly well. Schein played the X's and O's guy, Hench played the contrarian, and I played the Vin Diesel role - strong, good looking, respected by guys, loved by women. I didn't scream, I let everyone else finish their thoughts, I never once bellowed in laughter, and I took my time. Four for four. All in all, I'm happy with how it turned out.

Now, I just need to watch out for the Candy Man everywhere I go.

I'm fascinated with Ricky Proehl. 

Though I was unaware of this before Media Day, Ricky Proehl plays for the Colts now. Once Brandon Stokely's ankle started acting up, the Colts apparently signed him to be their token white wide receiver guy. Any team worth its salt has one of these guys. And Ricky Proehl's quite possibly the best one to ever play.  

Proehl only appeared in 2 games this year, catching 3 passes for 20 yards. That hasn't stopped him from becoming a major locker room force. When I spoke to him on Media Day, he was open to answer any question I had.

Was he giving advice to the younger guys?

"We're professionals here. Yeah, I'm offering advice. But everyone's focused and prepared."

What was the biggest play of his career?

"Probably the 1999 NFC Championship Game. 4 minutes left, down 6-5...that touchdown versus the Bucs."

Is this one special?

"It's great to be back."

You, along with Vinny Testaverde are the only active non-kickers in the NFL to have been in 1990's "Tecmo Super Bowl" game. What's that like?

"You know, the players razz me about that all the time. They play that video game in the locker room - and they'll use the Cardinals and goof off about the fact that I'm in it. Peyton loves giving me crap for being so old. He'll see an NFL Films highlight and say, "Oh, hey, there's Bert Jones ... weren't you guys rookies together?"

I wonder if he knows about Bo Jackson's prowess in that game.

I knew Proehl was in a few Super Bowls, but I had no idea how good he's been in them. It turns out that this will be the 17-year vet's fourth Super Bowl appearance in 8 years. With the Rams in '99, he had a huge game in the NFC Championship game, catching 6 balls for 100 yards, and hauling the aforementioned touchdown. He caught a ball in the Rams epic win over the Titans two weeks later.

Against the Patriots in '01, Proehl hauled in 3 balls for 71 yards, including a game-tying touchdown with 1:30 left in the game. Of course, Tom Brady then went on to lead the most miraculous drive in Super Bowl history, setting up Adam Vinatieri's legendary game-winning field goal.

Two years later, suiting up for the Panthers, Proehl caught another late fourth quarter game-tying touchdown, hauling in a Jake Delhomme pass with 1:08 left to tie Super Bowl XXXVIII with only 1:08 left. Vinatieri ruined that one too.

When NFL Films someday does a Ricky Proehl highlight package, there will be more clutch Super Bowl catches in it than the ones they ultimately make for Chad Johnson, Randy Moss, Plaxico Burress, and Terrell Owens combined. If there's an all-Super Bowl team for the game's 50th anniversary in nine years, it will be hard to leave him off the squad. Behind Jerry Rice, Lynn Swann, and Michael Irvin-there's arguably been no bigger Super Bowl performer, in so many different years, at the wideout position than Ricky Proehl.

Proehl will be in uniform for the Colts on Sunday. Whether or not he gets in the game is anybody's guess. But there's nothing he'd want more than another ring.

Luckily, Mr. Vinatieri is on his sideline this time around.