Adventures in NFL drug testing

How do I end up in a bathroom stall at the Borgata with my pants around my ankles while a man named Bill stares at my penis?

Earlier that morning, I'd made over 10 phone calls to three different people arranging the final details of my afternoon meeting. After meeting up with Bill, we wasted no time as we casually strolled through the men's room doors. The two of us snuck quickly past the corridor of urinals toward the last stall -- our best bet for going unnoticed. Luckily it was unoccupied, and we moved right in.

Not many words were said in the stall. Both of us were completely comfortable with the procedure. Bill took out the package, but I was the one who had to break the seal. I ripped open the plastic container, revealing a short plastic cup to capture my random urine sample.

I had known Bill was going to show up around four in the afternoon, so I was well prepared. After drinking five or six cranberry juices I couldn't wait to go, but I figured that was a good thing. I couldn't risk having stage fright in that type of situation. I mean, what would I have done? Chat it up with Bill over a couple of beers while he stared at my junk?

I had thought mine was an original story, but I was mistaken. It didn't take many interviews before finding out that most players on my team had some kind of crazy urination story. Rock Cartwright was thrown into the same situation as me: "I was standing in the middle of the bathroom in the New York, casino in Las Vegas, and the dude says, 'Just do it in front of the urinal.' Forget the stall, I was standing ass out in front of a urinal with some guy peeping around my shoulder."

FUNNY yet at that same time, necessary these days!!! CLICK it to read the rest

taggin this for the backyard ;0 !!!