In fact, for all the loud statistics and the specially tailored $500 suits and the fashion-magazine covers to come, Wilder is your basic down-home family man. His 7-year-old son, Curtis, is a budding soccer star and, says Wilder, "will be bigger than me. I developed a lot in the weight room, but I look at pictures of myself at that age, and he's a lot bigger." His daughter, Courtney, is 14 months old. Wilder still pines for the changes of season and the hills of his native Missouri, and fondly remembers the nonpareil sunny-side-up eggs he used to prepare at his aunt and uncle's cafe in Sikeston, Mo. "To this day, nobody can make them like I did," he says with a broad smile. When he sits still—and those occasions are rare for a self-styled "hyper individual"—Wilder relaxes in a private sanctum in his house, which he calls the Dark Room. "I listen to music mostly, Al Jarreau, Lee Ritenour," he says, "modern jazz." On the field, though, this Man of Steel is strictly heavy metal.