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Partying with the Rod-man Former Bulls star takes over the show at Super Bowl
Posted: Friday January 29, 1999 06:12 PM
MIAMI BEACH, Fla. (CNN/SI) -- What does Dennis Rodman have to do with the Super Bowl? Just what in the heck does Dennis Freaking Rodman have to do with the NFL? It's 12:30 a.m. on a warm Thursday night on the packed streets of South Beach -- geez, it's Friday morning already -- and those are the pounding questions that simply won't go away. Dennis Rodman wrestles. He plays basketball. Or at least he used to. He acts, kind of. This guy is a garter-showing, rouge-wearing cross-dresser, for goodness sakes. Did anyone in the macho NFL ever don a boa or a wedding dress? Fact is, though, we're standing outside something called Club Liquid on Washington Street, straining and shoving and sweating -- and screaming and sometimes swearing -- because this is the party to attend during Super Bowl XXXIII week. And Rodman, as is his undeniable nature, is the centerpiece. The place, as is Rodman's nature, is a zoo. "Box out! Box out! Step back," screams a bouncer to the crowd already spilling into the street. "Get back! Everybody!" You can get in the club, if you were willing to spend a few bucks getting a ticket ahead of time or want to shell out a lot more at the door. And you're willing to wait. You can go in, even talk to Dennis himself, if you have the proper media credentials. (Media credentials for a party? What kind of party is that?) CNN/SI's crew has slipped in already. So has TNT's. At least a couple of Sports Illustrated writers are busy casing the joint, and there are crews all over from most of the other big-time sports networks. But forget that. We're the masses. We're getting in legit, or we're quitting. And besides, even if we don't make it in, can it be any stranger inside than it is out here?
Celebrities? Rapper Puff Daddy stops by and looks to go in, instead deciding to mingle with the masses. Other rapper-looking guys -- it's become apparent our knowledge of hip-hop stars is sorely lacking -- are applauded as they inch by in their stretch limos. Athletes? Bryan Cox of the New York Jets is here. One good bull rush and he could be in. But he's waiting in the street, like the rest of us Joes. There's former NFL cornerback Tim McKyer. People are getting by him left and right. A couple members of the Indianapolis Colts -- who remembers their names? -- are looking lost. New Orleans Saints tackle Willie Roaf is walking around. Get behind that guy and you can go anywhere. But all of them are looking occasionally toward the door, trying to get the bouncer's attention, trying to edge their way in. And, in the meantime, enjoying the people. "How long you been waiting?" asks some girl/woman, who looks to be either 18 or 38. The light's not that great out here. "It's probably not even worth it." Well, that's always the gamble, isn't it? You can get in, worm your way through a loud crowd, weasel your way up to a bar to fork down too much money for a watered-down drink, then watch as some drunk sloshes it all over your new shoes. Or ... This street scene is beginning to look better and better. Truth be told, of the hundreds of people at the intersections of Washington and Espanola Way - heck, there are maybe a thousand out here -- most either aren't trying to get in or are just biding their time. They're busy checking out each other, seeing and being seen. There are women walking these streets dressed like -- well, to be honest, a lot of them are dressed like streetwalkers. One woman is wearing, if you can call it that, a brown number that is straps and little else. She's falling out all over the place. This "dress" looks like it's held up by divine intervention. All over the street, it's cleavage central. There's a guy in fatigues with his hair pulled up in a bun. Wearing hoop earrings. Androgyny rules. Androgyny and cross-dressing. It is everything this ultra-hip neighborhood is cracked up to be. It's way past 2 a.m. now, and the crowd hasn't dropped off at all. We've got our backs plastered against the shoe store next to Club Liquid, a nose hair away from the door. Some guy next to the bouncer is waving a business card like it's a thousand dollar bill. "Just get Jason over here," he screams at the bouncer. "Talk to Jason, man, and you won't feel like a f------ idiot in a few minutes." The bouncer turns his back to him to let a couple of the lucky partygoers out. As he walks by, a young-to-middle-aged-looking man glances up and says, "Not worth the wait." The crowd parts to let him out. We've been trying to inch our way toward the door for more than a half-hour. Jason's buddy really is starting to get annoying. The bouncer looks like he could go ballistic at any second. The crowd starts to fill in where the one guy left. We have a choice to make. We make it. We're outta here.
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