[FloridaMan88]

The best thing Peter King has ever written.

Link: https://www.si.com/.amp/nfl/2018/05/...-kickoff-rules

I was scheduled for a colonoscopy on Thursday at 1 p.m. in West Paterson, N.J. If you've had one, or if you’ve had any intestinal procedure, you know that the day before such an internal snaking you’ve got to be, well, cleaned out. One problem for me: On Wednesday, I was covering the Vince Young pro day workout at the University of Texas in Austin. I was supposed to begin colonoscopy prep at 1 p.m. Wednesday—when the pro day was in progress. My flight was due to leave Austin three hours later, and I was scheduled to get home by 8. In other words, I was not going to have the home-bathroom advantage for a good portion of the internal preparation.

Pretty tricky. I’ve had two prior colonoscopies (you should have these things fairly regularly after turning 40, and I’m 48) and know that once you begin your prep work, it's about a six-hour process. So I figure, OK, I'll start on the plane, then finish at home.

I took the first of the preparatory medication (and believe me, that's putting it very nicely) just before the three-plus-hour flight took off from Austin. I was in fine shape until maybe 40 minutes from landing in Newark, when the captain came over the intercom and said, “Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve been told by the tower in Newark that we’re going to have to slow things up a bit because of traffic into the New York area. They’re putting us into a holding pattern, and we’re going to head over to Pennsylvania to circle …”

My worst nightmare, coming true. It would get worse 10 minutes later, as we were banking bumpily somewhere over southeastern Pennsylvania. The flight attendant came on and said, “Ladies and gentlemen, because of the bumpy ride, we’re going to be turning on the fasten seat belt sign for the remainder of the flight ...”

AAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGHHHHHH!

Deep breaths. Long, deep breaths. Bumping around for 45 minutes. An eternity. Hold on. Just hold on. You raised two kids not to be ax murderers, you can survive this. I may have to get up and brawl with this flight attendant in a minute because of the seat belt sign.

Out of the holding pattern. Seven or eight minutes later, like the God of Aviation knew what was happening inside me at that moment, the captain came on and said, “Ladies and gentlemen, we’re on our final approach into the Newark area.
Day of my wedding. Births of my children. Red Sox win the World Series. Landing in Newark.

Once off the plane, I was as dignified as was humanly possible. I brisk-walked to the men’s room, found a stall, and … well, the rest is colonoscopy history.