Man. Cave.

I have always hated the term “man cave.” It makes us all sound like prehistoric fools. Which, of course, we sort of are.

That said, today I am working out of my man cave for the first time. We’ve lived in this house for 7 1/2 years, and adjacent to the garage there was always this vacant spare office that was filled with water and mold. Well, the wife tired of me sitting at the dining room table (really, she tired of me filling up the dining room table with all my Butch Woolfolk book research material), so we (well, she) hired a contracter to waterproof the room and make it whole.

So here I am, day No. 1. Have a look (excuse the mess, please) …

* The red posters were St. Louis Cardinals promotional ads from the 1990s. I have three—one with Ron Gant, one with Delino Deshields, one with Willie McGee.

* The clock and New Yorker poster are from my dad’s old office. They’re tributes to him.

* I have an XBox. Sadly, it isn’t working.

* The black-and-white photograph is from my senior year at the University of Delaware. It depicts two of my roommates, Scott Capro and Paul Hannsen, doing what we always did—very little. On the table there’s a bagel that lasted an entire semester.

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