Is Your Man Cave Even Complete If You Don’t Have Ted Williams’ Frozen Head In The Mini Fridge?

When it comes to watching the big game, the last thing I want to do is compromise. That’s why I make sure my space is entirely set up to entertain: I’ve got my Vizio 70-inch ultra-high-def TV situated exactly four feet away from the sofa, my vintage Yasmeen Bleeth Baywatch poster on the wall, and most importantly, I’ve got the frozen, severed head of Red Sox baseball legend Ted Williams stored in the freezer compartment of my mini-fridge. Right where it belongs.

I can already hear the detractors: “Everyone’s mancave should cater to their individual personalities!” Well, in certain non-frozen-head ways, sure. You’d better have the frozen, wide-eyed, shocked face and dangly neck meat of the Splendid Splinter in your freezer, or sorry pal, I’m out.

I had a friend who once boasted to me he’d gotten ahold of Yogi Bera’s dried, severed foot. “Not bad,” I said, “for a basement bar setup.” But when he told me it was for his mancave, I just about punched him in the dick. He went all the way to devote an entire room of his house to the glorious pursuit of sports-watching nirvana, but he couldn’t be bothered to break into the Scottsdale Cryonics Facility with a duffel bag and a hacksaw, bear mace the guard to incapacitate him, and grab the one quintessential, frozen body appendage guaranteed to turn his drab rec room into Testosterone Central? Every time I catch a glimpse of my Williams-head out of the corner of my eye, I’m reminded of the years of planning, sacrifice, and court-ordered community service it took to acquire it. And you’d better believe I remind all my guests as well.

I invite you all to come over some time to see what I’m talking about. A mancave just isn’t a mancave without a one-of-a-kind, authentic—and I know it’s authentic; he signed his head himself—Ted Williams’ cryogenically frozen head.

And when I reach into that fridge to grab a Sam Adams for the boys? I swear I can almost see him winking back at me.