Perhaps sportscaster Ray Hudson is the reason the Fusion can barely get a paltry 8000 fans into the seats at Lockhart Stadium. Instead of shelling out $12 to sit in the hot sun, everyone's at home in the a/c watching and listening to Hudson's overheated commentary on the Sunshine Network. We wouldn't blame them. The shaggy-haired Brit and former Fort Lauderdale Striker is to football broadcasts what John Madden is to, well, the other football broadcasts. Hudson's improvised, opinionated rants may occasionally veer into the zany and unsupportable, but at least he has some opinions. And when he describes a player as having "more curves and switches than Space Mountain," it's simply a joy to be in front of the tube. Those who still proclaim soccer a boring, lackluster sport have yet to hear Hudson call a match.

High up in the bird's nest better known as the second floor of the Elbo Room, the world is a fishbowl. A fashion show. A freak show. Nowhere in Broward and Palm Beach counties is the people parade more entertaining. Grab a beer, pull up a seat, rest your elbows on the railing, and take a gander down at the intersection of Las Olas and Fort Lauderdale Beach boulevards. The usual cast of musclebound macho men will be assembled there, most with his twin pit bull or boxer at his side. Anything to heighten their masculinity in the eyes of the freshly enhanced females nearby -- you know, the ones who just don't realize that they've been putting oil on their thong-exposed buttocks for the past 15 minutes. If you're going to show up at this corner, you'd better have something that defines you, lets people know who you are. Perhaps an eight-foot boa constrictor around the neck; that's always an attention-getter. Or you could be like the two fully padded guys in kickboxing gear who hold impromptu sparring exhibitions there. You'll probably see kids kicking a hackey sack around and at least one or two people playing music for passersby. From this vantage point, you can also watch the people who watch -- like the guy with the map in his hand and fanny pack on, pointing his camera toward the sand. Last but not least, it's always great fun to see spring breakers stumbling to keep their pants up and their food down.

High up in the bird's nest better known as the second floor of the Elbo Room, the world is a fishbowl. A fashion show. A freak show. Nowhere in Broward and Palm Beach counties is the people parade more entertaining. Grab a beer, pull up a seat, rest your elbows on the railing, and take a gander down at the intersection of Las Olas and Fort Lauderdale Beach boulevards. The usual cast of musclebound macho men will be assembled there, most with his twin pit bull or boxer at his side. Anything to heighten their masculinity in the eyes of the freshly enhanced females nearby -- you know, the ones who just don't realize that they've been putting oil on their thong-exposed buttocks for the past 15 minutes. If you're going to show up at this corner, you'd better have something that defines you, lets people know who you are. Perhaps an eight-foot boa constrictor around the neck; that's always an attention-getter. Or you could be like the two fully padded guys in kickboxing gear who hold impromptu sparring exhibitions there. You'll probably see kids kicking a hackey sack around and at least one or two people playing music for passersby. From this vantage point, you can also watch the people who watch -- like the guy with the map in his hand and fanny pack on, pointing his camera toward the sand. Last but not least, it's always great fun to see spring breakers stumbling to keep their pants up and their food down.