![]() Most MLB players take a dozen pills a day just to get them through the season - multivitamins, creatine, amino acids, nitric oxide, all kinds of stuff. The people want to see you hit a 95-mile-an-hour fastball over a damn 37-foot wall. Nobody cares if you have a bone bruise in your wrist or if you have a pulled groin. Your kids could be sick, your wife could be yelling at you, your dad could be dying - nobody cares. Why? Because if you make it to the World Series, you play 180 games. Most guys are still taking over-the-counter supplements. Most guys were taking over-the-counter supplements then. Let me tell you something about that test. Some people still look at me like I’m a cheater because my name was on a list of players who got flagged for PEDs in 2003. I have never failed a single one of those tests and I never will. Ten times a season these guys come into the clubhouse or my home with their briefcases. Some people still think the testing is a joke. If it’s really random, I should start playing the damn lottery. ![]() You know how many times I’ve been tested since 2004? More than 80. Mark my words: Nobody in MLB history has been tested for PEDs more than me. “The only thing you’re going to find in my blood is rice and beans.” In some people’s minds, I will always be considered a cheater. This is the Dominican, bro.” “We’re just doing our job,” he says. “I didn’t know you guys were coming,” I say. ![]() The one guy is sticking me with the needle while the other one is shooting the shit with me, telling me he’s from Colorado. My kids are so used to this by now that they’re laughing and taking pictures. “Sorry for the interruption, but we need to take some samples.” I’m looking at these guys like, “7:30 in the morning? Really, bro?” So the guys come in with their equipment and start taking my blood in the kitchen. MLB sent them down on a little vacation to my island. I could tell by the way they looked what was in the briefcases. Who in the hell is banging on my door? I come down the stairs yelling like, “Who the f*** is there?” I look on the security camera by the door and it’s two American guys holding briefcases. My kids and family are sleeping in the house. I was sleeping at my house in the Dominican this winter when I heard a banging on my front door at 7:30 in the morning.
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