Funny Story by Rick Fox

Pee in the Cup Part Deux
It wasn't long ago that I wrote a journal of an experience I had during college with drug testing. Today, I write another entry -- part two.

Sunday as we all know is the Sabbath, a day of rest, a day for family, a day for football -- or in these times even a day for baseball. Unfortunately, during training camp, no day is safe from the wrath of coaches in their attempts to get their teams ready for opening day. Phil is usually great about giving us Sundays off as he was raised to respect the Sabbath and is good about keeping it holy to the point of usually giving us the WHOLEY day off.

However, we're off to an 0-2 start this preseason with much to work on. Besides we had Friday off after playing two games in a row and flying cross country. So we found ourselves practicing Sunday morning at 9:30 am and hoping it would last about as long as a Catholic Mass. But Father Mark of the Holy Saint Mary is not running practice -- Phil is and he was raised Pentecostal (as was I). So anytime he throws a practice on a Sunday you can count on it going three to four hours.

Now I'm able to sustain focus for that long since I had the proper training as a kid. But the others squirm like John Madden would if he had to deal with a Sunday without football. Let's face it, that's what it amounts to, Sunday is football. Hey -- I store up enough trips to church during the summer so not to feel guilty for not going for four months during football season. We resigned to fact we were at practice and once the laces get tied, all the days run together and it might as well be Wednesday for all we know.

We've been practicing for a little over a week and a half now, so technically we've moved out of the stressful point of training camp -- or so I thought. Just as I begin to relax, Mike shows up. Who is Mike, and why would he stress me out you ask? Let me back peddle a little to the morning when my bladder and alarm clock were racing to wake me with my bladder winning by a pubic hair. I jumped out of bed and covered 1000 square feet in one leap. Thanking God my Mom never forced me to get in the habit of wearing pajamas to bed, I opened the bathroom door and lifted the toilet seat with part of my anatomy not meant for such purposes. I then proceeded to empty my bladder as if to make weight for a fight, after which I headed to practice.

This is where I get back to my story about Mike. You see Mike works for the NBA and it was not just football day to Mike -- it was NBA drug testing day. I guess they chose Sunday to make sure they get a true read after a Saturday night of possible partying. Having peed enough to fill the Marianas Trench only one hour earlier, I couldn't even force out a drip, so I headed out to the court for practice. Three hours of practice and one hour on the stairmaster later, I found myself full of fluids. This would have been a perfect time to give some of those fluids to Mike except for the fact all the fluids were sweated into my clothes and he was looking for fluids directly out of the faucet. He recommended to start drinking. I began to drink. I drank blue Gatorade, orange Gatorade, and
even yellow Gatorade to get into the right frame of mind color-wise. I drank water -- eight bottles to be exact. I even drank coffee. I drank enough fluids to have brought a dehydrated red wood to life.

After leaning over each of the three different urinals at angles varying between 40 to 120 degrees with no success, I decided to take it to the shower. I took an unusually long shower in the hopes that the warm water would trigger the need to go, but all I did was prune up all my digits. I dried off wondering whether or not I would be able to make it home in time for football. As I sat and dressed, Mike made small talk telling me of all the other players who have had similar problems producing in the past. How for hours on end he had had to wait just to get a sample. I think this was his attempt at letting me know I wasn't alone and this wasn't his first time.

At this point, I was beginning to wonder if I would make it out of there by the end of the month. After saying a prayer and asking God for forgiveness for not stopping by the past four weeks, I entered the stall once again. This time I sat on the throne hoping to kick my new phobia. In trying to relax, I noticed the new magazine rack hanging on the door. Now there's a novel idea -- a rack to prevent the age old problem of reading material becoming worse than one you'd train a puppy with. The sitting down technique didn't work, so I got up to leave the stall for one more attempt at standing at a urinal.

This time I had my boots on so I dared to step to the fourth urinal -- the one that was blessed with droplets on the floor in front of it. This one I figured must not know how to catch pee due to the signs of the many misses. I condemned the urinal without a fair trail due to my belief that there was no way professional basketball players could have bad aim. I leaned in, found the perfect angle and closed my eyes. I began my mantra -- Breathe, relax, Breathe, relax. Just as I settled in, Mike raced around the corner like Rob Schneider in The Waterboy -- you can do it!!! The extra support opened the flood gates

Hallelujah Hallelujah.


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In order to be a success in life, you need 2 things:
1. Don't tell everything you know.

 

Oh well. I thought it was kinda funny. Guess no one else did

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In order to be a success in life, you need 2 things:
1. Don't tell everything you know.