Mark Richardson was a gritty, determined New Zealand opening batsman whose batting style could charitably be described as "functional" and accurately described as "watching paint dry, but with more forward defensives." He was not a natural entertainer at the crease — unless he scored a hundred, at which point he underwent a transformation that would have impressed Dr. Jekyll.
Richardson had a tradition of pre-planning a celebration dance for each Test century, and the results were gloriously awkward. His repertoire included a robotic dance that looked like a malfunctioning android, various disco moves borrowed from the 1970s, and choreographed routines that looked like they'd been rehearsed in his living room (which they probably had, in front of a mirror, with the curtains drawn). The contrast between his dour, defensive batting — which could make an entire day of Test cricket feel like watching concrete set — and his exuberant celebration dancing was comedy gold.
Teammates and opponents alike would anticipate Richardson's celebrations, and the dressing room would erupt when he reached three figures because they knew what was coming. The fielding team would step back and watch, caught between amusement and disbelief, as a man who had just spent seven hours batting like an accountant suddenly started dancing like a man who'd accidentally touched an electric fence.
The celebrations were so distinctive that they became a highlight of New Zealand cricket broadcasts. Richardson later became a TV presenter in New Zealand, which made slightly more sense than a man whose forward defensive was better than his dance moves, whose dance moves were better than his pull shot, and whose pull shot barely existed.