MOAT WITH MAN-EATING CROCODILES. Security is paramount to you, the professional athlete. So why not do it with a little flair?
DRAWBRIDGE TO CROSS MOAT WITH MAN-EATING CROCODILES.
GAME RESERVE. I won’t lie. These can be rather costly to maintain. But nothing beats the thrill of watching your South African springboks being eaten by your Siberian tigers.
HEDGE MAZE. Just make sure this is partitioned off from the game reserve. Mazes aren’t as fun with angry polar bears stalking through them.
MASTER BEDROOM. I suggest buying a sleigh bed. It adds a Christmassy touch to all your fucking.
MASTER BATH. A stripper pole in the bedroom is so passé. Why not put one in your dual shower? It only adds to the danger.
SIX-HUNDRED-SQUARE-FOOT WALK-IN CLOSET.
WALK-IN CLOSET FOR WALK-IN CLOSET.
MEDIA ROOM. I’ll be honest: the other thirty-seven rooms in your house are largely irrelevant. You get yourself a 347" HD set, a Blu-ray player, the entire Sam Peckinpah filmography on disc, a Wii, a satellite dish, a Bang & Olufsen stereo, a wet bar, a regulation snooker table, and a big fucking sectional sofa, and you may as well leave the rest of the joint empty.
ART GALLERY. This classes up the house. I would suggest limiting the number of paintings of you to three or fewer. There’s a difference between healthy narcissism and unhealthy narcissism, you know. If you play offensive line, I suggest commissioning Botero for all your family portraits.
INFINITY POOL. The water just falls off the side! How does it do that?
LIVING ROOM. You will never use this. But, if you are married, your wife will demand at least one cold, uncomfortable, formal room in the house. No one will want to spend more than five minutes in this godforsaken room. Avoid it if possible. You can actually feel the stick being inserted into your ass when you enter it.
DINING ROOM. Same with this room. The only purpose it serves is to get your home featured in Town & Country.
HELIPAD. If you can, try to have your helipad located on the roof of your house. That way, every time you leave, you can imagine yourself making a daring escape from a Hanoi POW camp.
BI-LEVEL, EIGHTEEN-CAR GARAGE. Be sure to park only seventeen cars here. The last space can be used for old boots, broken children’s toys, gardening tools, and dead bodies.
DAY CARE CENTER. You gotta put the kids somewhere. By placing a day care center in your home, you can spend time at home with your kids without having to spend any time near them.
INDOOR SHOOTING RANGE. Indoor shooting ranges provide hours of enjoyment, especially if you turn off all the lights and play in “scuffle mode.”
GLASS CEILINGS. A staple of some of the world’s top-ranked strip clubs, glass ceilings will turn your home into one giant upskirt viewing hall. Also, you can break through the glass ceiling if you ever feel like acting out a metaphor.
WAVE POOL. Two giant water turbines are needed to create the eight-foot waves that shoot out from this pool. But you didn’t buy a mansion just to worry about petty stuff like your ConEd bill. Or insurance. Or property taxes. Or maintenance. In fact, those additional costs probably never occurred to you at all. So crank that bitch up.
RECORDING STUDIO. Many athletes’ home recording studios are soundproofed. If you’ve ever heard former Yankee Jack McDowell’s music, you know why.
GUEST HOUSE. Smart homeowners know how insufferable most houseguests can be. That’s why housing them in an entirely different mansion and never interacting with them is optimal. It’s also a great place to house the children once adolescence hits.
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DID YOU KNOW?
The laws inside your home are exactly the same as the laws that govern international waters. Or so I assume.
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Of course, these are merely suggestions. You may come up with all sorts of cool ideas that will allow your house to reflect your personal tastes: putting greens, vineyards, hostage pits, and things of that nature. The only limit is your imagination. Or, if you have no imagination, the imagination of your interior designer.
And be sure to name your estate. Jayson Williams once named his New Jersey property “Who Knew?”, as in, “Who Knew I’d Blow Away My Limo Driver with a Shotgun and Then Try to Cover It Up?”
Trophies that move! Choosing a car.