Vanessa Minillo, Nick Lachey

Chris Weeks/

RSVPs:  Nick Lachey and Vanessa Minnillo, Kevin Federline, Stacy Keibler...
Where:  Super Bowl Weekend, Miami, Florida
When:  Feb. 2 

With Super Bowl XLI in Miami this weekend, everyone is hitting the beach. I can barely walk through the pedestrians stretched down Motorola Mile on Ocean Drive. Bears fans are yelling at Colts fans, Colts fans are returning the jocular favor and cigar-smoking fans of both teams are whistling at bikini-clad girls. Meanwhile, shouting street preachers warn us all we’re going to hell for our sinful ways. My take: They're probably just bitter because they're not on the list.

Thankfully, once I get to 8th and Ocean—yes, the address of MTV's cheesy model melodrama—I’m able to escape the nonceleb chaos by popping into the Sprint Style Villa, a gifting suite offering a perfect getaway in a floor-to-ceiling glass house that sits right on the beach. 

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After grabbing an Absolut Pear-tini next to America’s Next Top Model winner CariDee English at the bar, I enter the house. Cardinals quarterback Matt Leinart is there signing his name with a $10,000 diamond-encrusted Sharpie. Talk about some unnecessary bling! At least Matt stays for a while, unlike Kevin Federline, who's in and out in mere minutes with his new posse: a huge bodyguard and three barely clothed girls. The babes are even showing more skin than Brooke Hogan—a feat I never dreamed possible. Brookey girl, please. A white vest, booty shorts and plastic platforms? Just because you live in Miami now doesn’t mean you need to dress like a stripper.

Much more interesting than K-Fed is A.J. DiScala, who entertains the entire outside area with his signature dance moves. "He’s in first gear, or he’s in fifth," VeeV liquor honcho Carter Reum says of his pal’s tendency to act either mellow or completely insane. "Today, he’s in fifth," chimes in a chuckling Stacy Keibler, standing nearby with boyfriend Geoff Stults. Stacey and Geoff are sickeningly gorgeous, like a real-life Barbie and Ken. Before I’m able to be completely jealous of their perfection, A.J. picks me up and slings me onto one of the wicker chairs scattered across the beach. Perhaps that craziness is why he and Jamie-Lynn didn’t last? But he sweetly makes up for it with a peck on the cheek. I doubt anyone's gonna be giving Peyton Manning smackeroos like that  when he gets sacked during the big game.

As the smoldering day segues into an intensely humid Friday night, I make my way over to the Sagamore for Hotel de Maxim, Maxim magazine’s 7th annual Super Bowl bash. The entire lobby and hotel exterior is transformed into St. Tropez, complete with a casino area, white-chocolate fondue fountains and pink- and blue-lighted cabanas. There’s even a martini customization area, where girls are adorning glasses with crystals.

David Spade apparently prefers his cocktails unadorned, as he hangs in the tough-to-crack VIP area. Also enjoying the exclusivity is CariDee, who looks even more gorgeous than she did earlier, like a younger Rebecca Romijn. In contrast to the sweaty multitudes on the dance floor, this model’s face is glowing in a good way. I ask if she has any tips for high-humidity beauty. "Don’t leave your hair down," she tells me, eyeballing my loose—and now frizzy—waves. "And if you are gonna leave your hair down, bring a ponytail or some hairspray." Point taken. Tomorrow night, updo it is.

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Brooke Hogan must have gotten some style tips, too, because she looks a million times better in a little black dress. "I’m a fan of the sport," Brooke tells me of the weekend's main event. "I don’t know how to play it, and I don't know the rules. But I do know I'm a fan of hot football players." And she doesn’t play favorites—she likes them all! "Any guy with a football-player butt and shoulders is good for me." Here's betting Brooke scores her own touchdown tonight.

Across the room, Joe Simpson’s arrival sparks questions about daughter Jessica and John Mayer's Miami whereabouts. The couple was supposed to head down today, but considering Nick Lachey and Vanessa Minnillo look like the It couple of the weekend, Jess may just steer clear. Still, it’s not like she’d necessarily run into her ex at this monstrous bash. Nick and Vanessa are hunkering down over in a remote corner. Not hiding are Kid Rock and Ludacris, who happily pose for pics with adoring fans. Most valuable partyer Matt Leinart also poses for a few, before heading back to his hotel to shower off the night's sweat buildup. Wish I had time to do the same, but it’s already 1 a.m., and I hear celebrities are already snapping Polaroids of themselves over at Mokai.

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My cab to the new club takes longer than expected, because Collins Avenue is wall-to-wall with tourists and locals trying to catch a glimpse of all the A-listers. I finally arrive at Hennessy & Polaroid's Smokin' Aces Bash just as notorious wide receiver Terrell Owens walks the red carpet. The small venue is as packed as the streets, but at least there’s air-conditioning.

I hit the bathroom to pat off my perspiration and see Minnillo exiting a stall and telling Maria Menounos how she gets her hair so perfect. "I just let it dry naturally," she says. Lucky girl. Minnillo quickly returns to her boy in their cozy corner, where she jumps up on a couch and bursts into song to Bon Jovi’s "Livin’ on a Prayer." I wonder if the couple will play the classic for the first dance at their wedding. They sing it all the time!

Speaking of twosomes, tennis ace Andy Roddick will not leave Leinart’s side. Roddick is in fan mode and insists on only taking pictures with his fave football star. How cute! Brooke Hogan would totally be jealous here. But if she wanted, I’m sure she could hook up with Jeremy Piven, who is walking the room. He seems to be looking for a girl to bring back to his hotel. After a few failed attempts, Mr. Ladies' Man hooks a brunette lovely and leaves.

I take that as my exit cue as well. The sun will be rising soon, and I still have another hot Miami night ahead of me before the game. Make sure you check back Thursday for more sunny Super Bowl scoop and wee-hour scores.

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