The Second Man. Wilt Chamberlain, aka The Man of 20, 000 Ladies.

In "The Future" my son will ask me about what sports were like before laser-guidance hockey sticks and rocket shoes, and I will point to this picture and then start lecturing him about how we also had better food in my day, and rap. Wilt Chamberlain was the best thing to happen to Philadelphia since John Adams, and the best thing to happen to the atmosphere 7'1" above the ground since the dinosaurs. This cold motherfucker dropped 100 points in a game while sporting the sickest mustache in the history of upper-lips, and still managed to be extremely popular with everyone besides Kareem Abdul-Jabbar.

Especially the ladies. ESPECIALLY the ladies. Mister The Stilt claimed to have attained carnal knowledge from 20, 000 women in his lifetime, which apparently works out to about 8 women a week from his 15th birthday until he died. I imagine there must've been a lot of bangin' Spanish teachers at Overbrook High. Man-Chamberlain, we salute you higher than those silly 10-foot regulation hoops.

Verdict: Man-ness Saluted

The First Man. Powers Boothe... if chins could kill.

Okay, to start, his name is 'Powers' so we could probably close the case there.

If you need further proof, he starred in a movie called Southern Comfort and there's no way being in a movie named after a liquour isn't sweet. Espescially SoCo. Because SoCo is wild. Period. The producers of this movie clearly knew they had Powers Boothe on their hands, not Stallone or Elliot Gould, so naturally they cast him as a no-nonsense, shit-talking Texan. As talented as an actor as he is, he doesn't even need to act to play a shit-talking Texan, part of a bunch of Louisiana National Guardsmen who are hunted down by Cajun hillbillies in the bayou. Of course Boothe advocates shooting the lunatic squadmember who goes nuts and incites the hillbillies to violence, a ruthless and manly decision if anything.

He also rocks the shit on Deadwood too. Plus he was in a TV series where he played Philip Marlowe, the private eye (more on Raymond Chandler later,) MAN-tastic! Man-Boothe broke a SAG strike in the 80's to pick up his Emmy and while i can't say i'm really for strike-breaking, telling your co-workers to go fuck themselves so you can pick up your hard-earned loot is ballsy as hell. And manly.

As such, we at THOM feel Powers Boothe should set up a phone company. This company would consist of phone booths (or rather, boothes,) aptly titled "powers boothes" which would be located in all major cities. Upon entering the boothe, no matter what number you dial, you are connected to the nearest available, hot bitch that you will then make the beast with two backs with. And then fuck. Why, you ask? Cause there may be things wrong with Texas, but none of them are Powers Boothe.

Verdict: Man-ness revealed.