KEY POINTS:
This is a story about talent and alcoholism in the field of sport that - touch wood - ends well.
But first let's consider this statement: "He broke team curfews, got drunk, abused staff. In short, he was generally unprofessional and intolerable. The dumping came after the second
of two incidents just three days apart."
Sound familiar? No, it's not about Jesse Ryder, whose Black Caps career is in question as much for drunkenness and indiscipline as the injury to his hand sustained when he intentionally smashed a Christchurch bar window. He topped that off by abusing hospital staff.
Those incidents happened a week ago in the early morning following the Black Caps' one-day series win against England. Ryder had also been out on the town the night before the deciding match.
The passage above is from July 2002 and refers to the dumping of All White Michael Utting, one of the best goalkeepers New Zealand football has seen.
The way they responded to public crisis was chalk and cheese.
Ryder played a straight bat to questions in a press conference. His answers seemed more about trying to put a cap on the story than explain what happened or address relevant matters.
Ryder said alcohol was not a problem but conceded there were "issues" to sort out. "If I do this again there will be no more chances," he said.
Consider Utting's public comments nearly six years ago upon being sacked by the All Whites. He was, he said, an alcoholic whose bag of second chances was empty. Even so, he told me at the time that it had been an important week. "I felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. If it hadn't happened, I would have carried on the same."
Alcohol, he explained, featured in the lowlights of his life, in 1995 when he broke his neck in a car accident and in 1999 when stood down from a Confederations Cup match against Germany. And in 2002, the year of his denouement. He was hungover when the All Whites lost 1-0 to Scottish premier division side Dunfermline. It wasn't nerves, he said, "I just think I'm an alcoholic." "I went to have a drink because I couldn't sleep. It ended up half a bottle of whisky and half a bottle of Cognac."
On the Sunday night before his sacking he returned late and drunk to his hotel, demanded alcohol and harangued staff.
Drink didn't turn him violent but he could get nasty. "I'm not a bad guy but I have done bad things," he said back then. And, of course, damage from his alcoholism wasn't reserved to sport. He had regrets about a former fiancee. For a long time, all he could see were the things he provided - the new car, the rent he paid but "what woman would want to make love to a man who has verbally abused her the day before?"
Ryder says he will apologise to hospital staff he abused.
Ryder's fall brought to mind others. In the past week, the Herald has carried stories about former England midfielder Paul Gascoigne, arrested at a hotel and detained under Britain's Mental Health Act, and double Olympian Neville Scott, whose career was dogged by alcoholism.
I also thought of old friend John, whom I accompanied for moral support to his first AA meeting. John was one of New Zealand's top triathletes in the early 1990s, despite the bingeing.
Like Scott, John felt comfortable when he drank. When he stopped drinking, John told me he had to learn how to talk to women sober. He and Scott were from broken families, both experienced trauma young. In John's case, genetics may be relevant. In a family of nine, he was sure eight were alcoholics.
Utting was adopted - his adoptive family are not drinkers.
Socialising is part of elite cricket. You'd go mad otherwise, says commentator and former New Zealand wicketkeeper Ian Smith. He played in a celebrated era, did his share of celebrating, and is therefore reluctant to throw stones in glasshouses. But, he says, the plain fact is that those who don't have a problem don't regularly get in trouble.
"From what I hear, this much is certain. He [Ryder] has been through a number of teams in a number of provinces and a couple of first-class sides and throughout that time there have been issues. There were issues in Ireland. Yes, he has a track record that hasn't become public until now. It's as simple as that."
If Ryder is an alcoholic in need of help, he may be the last to know. That's because, says Stepping Stones Recovery Trust addiction counsellor and recovering alcoholic Roger Green, it's a disease characterised by denial. Millions are effected.
Some survive well, some don't. I spoke at John's wedding and at his funeral. Alcohol was a factor in his death at the age of 37.
That's Utting's age now. He hasn't had a drink since his public fall nearly six years ago. He married last year and works as an orchard manager. He made it back into the All Whites and played again for the Auckland Kingz and still plays in the national league.
Ryder's humiliation, notes Utting's friend and former National League footballer David Chote, has all the parallels with Utting's experience, "except Jesse's response ... but then he's 20-something, Michael was 30-something".
No surprise there for Green whose drinking caused him trouble when he was a member of the junior All Blacks' tour of Japan in 1958. He believes he would have been diagnosable then, had he seen a specialist.
"I was probably quite chronic in my mid-20s but didn't want to own it and struggled on until I was 42."
As a former top-level sportsman and recovering alcoholic who trained as an addiction counsellor at the renowned Hazelden Foundation in the US, Green brings experience and training to his opinions. "I have real concern for him [Ryder]," he says. "People who do not have a drink problem don't go ahead and break windows. They stop before it gets to that."
Because it's a progressive disease, because of denial, it can take time for people to address it. "Unfortunately a lot have to go right down the gurgler; lose everything, their family, their job, their sport."
Green's advice to Ryder? "He needs to find a clinician experienced in the field of addiction who will give him a proper evaluation and an initial diagnosis."
Utting feels he's walked a mile in Ryder's shoes. But the goalkeeper doesn't find a sober life means a dull life. "I think I'm still the life of the party but I'm no longer the idiot of the party. Often you find with people who are strong personalities that alcohol sends them out of control."
If Ryder can address his affliction so young, he'll likely have a long career, says Utting, who adds that Ryder is most welcome to call him.
