KEY POINTS:
With barely a murmur, New Zealand Cricket announced their preliminary 30-man squad for the inaugural Twenty20 world championship in September.
There were a couple of little eyebrow-raisers among the 30, only slightly less than half of New Zealand's entire first-class pool, but really only one jarring note -
the absence of Jesse Ryder.
The inescapable conclusion is that New Zealand Cricket has washed their hands of him and, to be perfectly frank, you can't blame them.
Last year, when the names of possible World Cup bolters were being bandied about, Ryder's name was near the top of the list. In reality, the selectors always had the Twenty20 world champs earmarked as the tournament where Ryder would first don national colours. It is a measure of how far his stocks have slumped that he now can't make the preliminary cut of 30.
His pathetic little whine a couple of months back about not wanting to play for New Zealand 'A' has done him no favours but is, sadly, true to form.
By his reckoning, he's already had two good 'A' tours and hasn't been rewarded with a spot in the Black Caps so why should he put himself through that again? In truth he pulled out because, under Canterbury's hard-nosed South African coach Dave Nosworthy, the 'A' team is going to have a winter of very hard work. Jesse doesn't do hard work.
In fact, Jesse doesn't really do anything he doesn't want. He went to the UK for a season of cricket, signed with Ireland and decided it was too hard to get to one of his first games. So he didn't bother turning up.
People in cricket circles have tried everything with Jesse from tough-love to pandering to his excesses, recognising that he came from a difficult background, recognising that he had a precocious talent.
Mark Greatbatch took him under his wing at Central Districts, took him into his home. He got him up in the mornings and got him fit to play cricket. But when Greatbatch was forced to drop Ryder after he betrayed his trust and got on the turps before a match, Jesse did another thing he's very good at - he ran away, to Wellington. CD didn't want him to go but at least officials there can take comfort in the fact it is those wearing Wellington blazers who are now cleaning up his messes.
When Ryder finds that current Wellington coach Anthony Stuart won't give him special treatment this upcoming season he'll probably run away again, maybe back to Central, maybe to Northern, who knows? Perhaps he'll find out that he's not such a prized asset anymore. Perhaps he'll find teammates, like selectors, are becoming less tolerant of his foibles - after all nobody likes to see one rule for one, another for the rest.
Or perhaps Jesse, who turns 23 next month, will finally grow up, realise that that thing on his shoulders is a head and not a chip.
Perhaps he'll improve his already impressive first-class average of 44, and perhaps he'll make a grovelling phone call of apology to John Bracewell, Sir Richard Hadlee and all the other selectors to whom he effectively gave the finger when he turned down the chance to play for the 'A's.
Perhaps he'll get fit and stop surrounding himself with dickheads who are happy to sit back and watch him blow his career.
Perhaps.
Ryder could be one of New Zealand cricket's finest left-handers; teammates that have seen him since he was a teenager will tell you he is that good. Unfortunately he is in danger of becoming famous only for wasting all that talent.