THREE urine tests a week. Four hair samples a year. Welcome back, Ben Cousins, to the strict new world of AFL footy.
For a self-confessed drug addict, the system is set up for him to fail, but if he does, the entire AFL drugs system fails, too.
Cousins is lucky to be getting this slim chance of redemption to be back playing footy. He should be buying a lottery ticket, and listen nought to his supporters commiserating "the poor bugger".
Perhaps Cousins should ring Wendell Sailor, or Werner Reiterer, chat to a cyclist or familiarise himself with the World Anti-Doping Agency code if he feels hard done by. Cyclists are tested most mornings - some as early as 3am - during long, rigorous road races; swimmers tell of being tested three times a day.
Sailor tested positive to cocaine on match day and was banned for two years; Reiterer, a Commonwealth Games gold medallist, wrote about taking drugs in a book after his retirement and had to fight in the courts to have a retrospective drugs ban overturned. Usually, athletes confessing to taking drugs are pursued by the Australian Sports Anti-Doping Authority.
In Cousins's case there wasn't enough evidence - despite a secret investigation - to prove that he had been taking the illicit drugs on match days. If they had unearthed such evidence, Cousins would be on the sidelines for a further year, pondering his future, and facing a life ban for any further positive test.
Yet this week the AFL bosses refused to clarify the ramifications if Cousins tests positive in one of its new, persistent tests. They would only say he would be suspended pending an investigation. Is this a drugs policy being created on the run? The AFL has already deviated from its own drugs policy in handling Cousins's issues. Bizarrely, despite his addiction, Cousins has never tested positive under the AFL illicit drugs code, which was considered soft and unworkable in many quarters.
Cousins's manager, Ricky Nixon, claims his client is being singled out, and he is right. When the AFL introduced its own code it should have understood the consequences of its new-found social conscience and introduced proper processes. For the AFL is surely kidding itself if it thinks Cousins is the only player to have such an addiction.
But is it trying to be smart by having the three tests a week, reducing the chances that ASADA will ping him on a match day and hit him with a two-year ban?
It is important here to clarify the difference between the two anti-drug regimes when it comes to illicit drugs such as marijuana, cocaine and amphetamines. ASADA, using the WADA code, only tests for stimulants, including illicit drugs on match day, to counter athletes trying to gain a performance benefit. Those caught on match days are named and face a two-year ban.
The AFL has its own illicit drugs policy, in addition to the ASADA legislation, whereby it tests for illicit drugs at all times. The AFL says this is because it has the welfare of its athletes at heart. The results of these tests are secret, although it is known that six players have each tested twice to illicit substances. Only on the third occasion are the players subject to a disciplinary hearing and a possible 12-week suspension. So where does Cousins fit in? The AFL appears uncertain.
Cousins was banned for a year on November 19 last year after months of damaging headlines and bizarre behaviour, having passed the ASADA and AFL in-house testing, but guilty of bringing the sport into disrepute. As part of his rehabilitation, he spoke out about his addiction and has sought to break down the stigmas associated with drugs, although he likes to describe his drug taking as "misdemeanours or indiscretions". He has also been making a documentary about his volatile life. It may have been part of his therapy, but he is also about to profit enormously from an eager broadcast bidding war.
Andrew Demetriou and Mike Fitzpatrick desperately hope Cousins can get on with his life and successfully battle his drug addiction by playing clean football. For only then will the ad-hoc nature of the AFL's illicit drugs policy, its mantra of supporting the health of the player and their adherence to a secretive regime be deemed to be anything but a failure. The social guardians must now be seen to support and embrace both their successes and their failures.