Race Face #169: DRUG TESTING


Some people just like to watch …

Words Scott Bishop

The past few months in the sporting environment have been interesting and controversial, to say the least. Our cricket team is useless; so bad, in fact, for not doing some paperwork the vice-captain was punished by being made captain.

But things on the football field have been far worse. The government came out and announced the entire code of rugby league was on “The Gear”, was part of the underworld and deals more drugs than Terry White Chemists.

AFL didn’t miss out, either, with an entire club allegedly shootin’ up all sorts of moonshine, none of which has shown up in testing over the past decade.

With all that, ASDA — Australian Sports Drug Authority — has decided to step up its program and test more athletes to weed out the weed snorters. Motocross may also be in its sights. ASDA has done testing in motocross before and I’ve been fortunate enough to be twice tested, once in the last century and a second time in the last decade. Let me walk you through both memorable moments.


It was the Adelaide round of the Supercross Masters in 1998. We were standing at riders briefing when the MA steward announced that ASDA representatives were present and random athletes would be selected to take part in a urine sample.

We were told that if the rider wasn’t willing to provide the 80mL sample, it would be deemed the same as a positive test and the same punishment would apply: a two-year ban.

As we wandered off cracking a few jokes, a man walked alongside me, grabbed me on the wrist and said he was Roger Rhymes With Sockwatcher (not his real name), he was from ASDA and I was required to provide an 80mL sample before leaving the venue that night.

“No drama,” I thought. My drugs of choice at the time were junk food and soft drink so I had nothing to hide. It was a stinking hot day and I was riding two classes so I informed the guy I’d take a pee for him after the final race and we’d be sweet. He then informed me I must remain within sight at all times and, when I provided the sample, he must see it come from my body. I didn’t think much of it at the time and went about racing.

As I finished the first at race, the first person I saw as I came off the track was Mr Rhymes With Sockwatcher. This continued throughout the night and he was never further than three metres away from me at any time. It came to main event time and I had 15 laps to do on my 125, then another 20 laps on my 250. After 35 laps, even my sweat was sweating and fluid was low.

I got changed and followed my new best friend to the male toilets where a couple of other riders were doing the same thing. Then it dawned on me what he’d said before: “I must see it come from your body.”

So here I am standing in a male toilet at the Adelaide Showground, dehydrated as hell, with my pants around my ankles and a guy standing in front of me looking at my johnson as I try to pump out 80mL of wee. It was stage fright, multiplied by dehydration, plus some personal embarrassment. I can now tell you the answer to that is not free-flowing, crystal-clear urine. So I grabbed about 200 bottles of Mount Franklin, pounded them like an Ethiopian and then dropped the strides again. Nope — still nothing!

At 12.30am and an ocean full of water later, I was ready to go. The issue now wasn’t getting started; it was shutting down. Mr Sockwatcher got his 80mL and then some as I threw him the full cup and just kept on peeing.

I peed like Phar Lap as the 200 bottles of Mount Franklin resurfaced. I then answered a heap of questions and was free to go. As I walked out there were still a couple of riders going through the pain. One stood there with his eyes closed and a tap running, willing himself to wee.


The second time I had to do it was at a local race in Queensland. I’d just finished the day when the ASDA rep grabbed me and gave me the full spiel again. This was after six 20-minute motos in a day; knowing my previous history of public peeing and my state of hydration, I suspected we were in for a long afternoon.

Anyway, the sun had gone, the pits were empty and I still had nothing. He then gave me the option of us getting a motel together or he would follow me home. If I felt like getting the 80mL out, I had to pull over and stand in front of his headlights so he could see me producing the urine.

After 45 minutes’ driving, I ripped the HiAce to the side of the road and leapt out with my duds down and johnson half out. I had my cup at the ready and then, right on que, the dam burst and the river began to flow. Again, 80mL was no problem and there was no stopping me. Old mate jumped out of the way before his shoes were covered and he avoided the instant mud I was making.


I agree with drug testing and it needs to happen more often. I don’t believe they’d find much in motocross but let’s do it anyway. Having some dude watch you wee is weird and far worse than any nightclub stage fright. It’s just an awkward situation for everyone.

When they first started, there were female officials who were part of testing males and vice versa, but that was soon stopped. I’m not sure if a chick staring at my pecker would make things easier or not and I’m glad I don’t have to find out.

Scott Bishop
About Scott Bishop 49 Articles
Scott Bishop is the most experienced dirt bike test dummy in Australia and perhaps the world.