Hit the ball, hit the bottle
He's big, he's agile, and he'll drink you under the table any old day of the week
Jesse Ryder
Wellington's wildest child
Big-hitting, big-boned, big-bingeing boy who takes after Tubby, Boonie, Arjuna and Gatt. (Especially Boonie.) Not big on rules, structure, weight training, window panes or such fripperies. But not above foresight and planning: he has been known to get started on tequila slammers the night before a match, so he can seamlessly drift through the minor inconvenience of the game and into the post-match whistle-wetting. Has turned over a new leaf since, allegedly.
Ryder possesses not just the stomach for a fight but the chin, cheeks, love handles and hams.
Answers questions at press conferences in a maximum of two words.
Sixpack on a good length.
In 2007 he told the selectors he wouldn't be available for a New Zealand A tour after he signed as one of Ireland's overseas players.
That he packs a mean punch.
Ditto.
Is given to astonishing feats of athleticism while fielding at gully that no self-respecting chubby lad would be caught dead performing.
Has not had a drink since the West Indies tour last year, according to his manager, Aaron Klee. After New Zealand won the recent Twenty20 series against India, Ryder had a Coke while his mates chugged beer. He then turned in.
Kids. Window-pane makers. Beverage manufacturers.
Don't stand in his way when he's headed for the bathroom.
"Ryder adds weight to New Zealand's middle order"
"Easy Ryder"
Imagine if the Kolkata Knight Riders had signed him up.
Rock stars who chucked TVs into swimming pools.
"I'll drink to that."
"Let's call it a night."
Boonie's 52-cans one on the Australia-England flight.
The talking Jesse doll. Trademark line: "Gimme five… for the road."