“I’m going to send this thing stratospheric.” Meet Alex Hendy, the Schooner Scorer

“Schooner Scorer here, sixty-second snippets scoring a schooner…” Maybe you already hear the music, a jaunty saxophone straight from the stage of a Manhattan speakeasy, the type of joint where waiters twirl trays on their fingertips. Or maybe my second sentence accomplished the seemingly impossible by confusing you even more than the first?

For the uninitiated, Schooner Scorer is a social media personality who specialises in short videos where he visits a pub and rates a beer out of ten. (A ‘schooner’ roughly equates to three-quarters of a pint.) Equipped with luxuriously floppy hair, perfect white teeth and linen shirts often unbuttoned to the chest, he looks and sounds – on camera at least – like the human embodiment of Putney Bridge. 

Over the past three years, he has amassed more than half a million followers across Instagram and TikTok, transforming Schooner Scorer from a niche joke to a legitimate brand – there’s merchandise and everything. In recent months, Schooner has played padel with Tom Holland to promote the Spider-Man actor’s non-alcoholic beer. Scored a cocktail with Ian Poulter at a LIV Golf event. Been biked to New York’s best Australian pub by cricketer Steve Smith. (Smith reached out to him.) Last December, the Spectator called for him to be made prime minister.  

This success was anything but ordained. As the man himself tells me on a Brixton rooftop terrace: “When I first started doing it, I remember saying to my mate: ‘this is going to be my career.’ And everyone laughed. Even my parents!”  

His real name is Alex Hendy. Like so much of social media, the Schooner Scorer persona is sort of real and sort of isn’t.  “You have to switch into a character for sure,” says Hendy. “Schooner Scorer is a massive ball of energy that arrives at a pub, shouts down the camera for a minute, and fucks off. Obviously I’m more chilled than that. It’s me, it’s very much me, but it’s me at a hundred percent energy.” 

Having spent a couple of hours in his company, I can attest Hendy is a far more relaxed figure than his hyperactive alter-ego. He arrives unaccompanied to the shoot at Upstairs, a rooftop members’ bar in Brixton. It’s a sunny afternoon and the requisite pints serve as both refreshment and prop. For one shot, the photographer asks Hendy to look as happy as possible. “I rate beer for a living,” quips Hendy. “I’m always happy.”

Between takes, he checks on the progress of a video advertising Jack Whitehall’s Posh Lager, uploaded early today. The gist is the famously public school Whitehall needs a man of the people to promote his new beer. Cue Schooner whizzing up to the pub on a Lime Bike. “Forest Road Taproom,” he says doubtfully. “Not really The Devonshire, is it?” 

While Schooner is straight out of Made In Chelsea, Hendy grew up close to Hull, studying business and Spanish in Newcastle. Off-camera, his accent carries an unmistakable trace of the north. His dad owns a pastry business, his mum works for the NHS. What do his parents make of his unlikely vocation? “They love it now,” says Hendy. “At the start they were like, ‘Stop doing this!’” His mum used to worry for his health; now she helps out with the merchandise. 

How exactly would he describe his job? He barely takes a beat before answering. “I’d describe my job as creating fun and engaging content around the subject of beer that brings everybody along on the journey – so it’s as inclusive as possible. It’s not about me going to a random brewery and giving a beer review.”  

Now might be a good moment to examine those reviews in detail. Filmed in one take, a Schooner Scorer video is as structured as a classic Bond film. Our hero skids into shot on a Lime Bike. The camera pans to reveal a crowded pub exterior. As Schooner dismounts, a patron will often encourage him to sample a certain beer. “Hey, Schooner! You must try…” 

He disappears through the door, emerging a few seconds later holding a full glass. The Lime Bike has vanished, typically replaced by at least one extremely attractive girl. He looks directly at the viewer as the saxophone kicks in. “Schooner Scorer here, sixty-second snippets scoring a schooner…” 

He proceeds to laud the venue, the day, his fellow drinkers – everything is invariably “brilliant” or “awesome” in SchoonerWorld. (Other than sometimes the beer itself.) Often a group will have formed to cheer him on. In America, there were literal crowds. He’ll provide a brief description of the beer (“Goose Island, 5.9%, classic American-style IPA”), before uttering his second catchphrase: “one sip, one schooner – let’s see the score!” 

The camera is toasted, the glass emptied in a couple of gulps. Wiping his mouth, Schooner will say something like, “Down the hole like a homesick mole.” (He’s big on wordplay.) Final musings are provided, a score is announced: “That hit incredibly well – that’s an 8.3.” The whole thing is over in a minute, tops. 

A few takeaways. Firstly, it’s not about the beer. Beer is good – and occasionally bad – but nobody watches a Schooner Scorer video to discover how he rates a Soundwave IPA from The Holly Bush in Hampstead. (8.4, if you’re wondering.) You watch for the vibes, the chaotic energy, the brief blast of escapism. I’m not surprised when Hendy says summer content always performs best. “Bright blue skies,” he eulogises. “You’re sat in rainy England, you want to remember the good days when you’re twatting beers in a beer garden.” 

Second takeaway: so much as it is all a joke, it’s a joke that Hendy is very much in on. “I lean into what people either like or dislike,” he says. “It’s part of that character and you should embrace it. People go, ‘He’s a posh twat from Chelsea.’ Fine, I’ll get even posher online and act like I’m even more from Chelsea. It’s funny – I’m from Hull. You’ve got to lean in.” 

In June, he uploaded a slickly edited video in which Schooner delivered a cod Shakespearean monologue to a line of suited City types while soundtracked by ‘O Fortuna’. “Tonight, we attack! Not with sword or fire, but with schooner in hand…” The video was shot and edited in three days. It’s utterly ridiculous and rather funny. It was also part of a bigger play. “That was us saying, there are brands paying hundreds of thousands of pounds. Give us some budget and we’ll create cinema for you.”

The following statement may raise eyebrows but here we go: a genuine service is being performed here. The hospitality industry is on its knees; UK pubs are closing at a rate of eight per week. Schooner Scorer obviously can’t reverse this decline, but it’s still reassuring to see someone back the boozer so vocally, inform people that while the beer may only be a 6.7, the company is undoubtedly a 10. I don’t think it’s entirely coincidental that he emerged in a post-lockdown world gripped with economic uncertainty; recession pop except with catchy hooks replaced by Camden Hells. 

Recession pop refers to the upbeat music that dominated the US charts in the late 2000s, its lyrics celebrating youth, hedonism and communality. Think ‘TiK ToK’ by Kesha, Lady Gaga’s ‘Just Dance’ or basically any Pitbull track. The term had a resurgence in 2024 with the omnipresent Brat by Charlie XCX – the same year that Schooner Scorer properly took off. And no, I’m not making a direct comparison but you could argue each of them has risen to meet the moment in their own way.

Before beer, there was pizza: Hendy was inspired by the One Bite pizza reviews of Dave Portnoy, the brash owner of Barstool Sports. Portnoy stands outside the restaurant, brandishing a pizza box. “One bite, everyone knows the rules,” he says, before inevitably taking several. 

A One Bite review runs for several minutes rather than sixty-seconds but there are obvious parallels: a relish for public interaction, the scoring system to one decimal place imbuing a sense of genuine calibration rather than somebody saying an entirely subjective number. (Any schmuck can rate something a seven but only the true expert can calculate a 7.4.)   

In July 2022, Portnoy reviewed Crazy Pizza Knightsbridge. Hendy went along and experienced his own eureka moment while watching Portnoy work. (He’s visible in certain background shots.) “It gave me such life and energy. I saw people really loving it and I thought, ‘Wow, I could do something similar but for beer.’” The next day, he headed to Soho.  Necked ten pints, filmed ten reviews and uploaded them on Instagram for family and friends. 

He was 26, working for a major commodities trading firm in Canary Wharf, yet he could already envisage a new career. “I totally believed from the start that it would go. As arrogant as that is.” Back when he had a few hundred followers, he’d tell anyone who’d listen, “I’m going to send this thing stratospheric. I’m going to have 250k within a year.” 

While he’s always seen himself as an entrepreneur, his other great passion is acting. Why did he go into the City? “Chasing the money,” he says. “Chase the money and the fun will come. Now I chase the fun and the money will come. That’s what I hope, anyway!” 

The acting makes sense. He’s a natural in front of the camera, a talent that extends beyond his ability to reel off “sixty-second snippets scoring a schooner” in one take. His breezy bonhomie brings to mind a charming if slightly disreputable friend, someone you see every few months because you know a night with him will result in waking up with a stinking hangover and the neighbour’s ornamental gnome on your bedside table. 

Aside from Hendy himself, the music is the other secret weapon. It’s incredible the difference the music makes. Watch an early Schooner video pre-music and all you see is some bloke talking very fast outside a pub. Add the music, and suddenly there’s Schooner Scorer, The Man Himself. For a while he experimented with different tracks, which made editing the videos a nightmare because he had to add a new one every time. He found his current theme last spring and hasn’t looked back. 

“It’s manic, it’s crazy,” says Hendy. “That’s what I want to encapsulate with the music. It’s escapism, it’s fun, it’s crazy, it’s high energy. What is going on in this video? It’s almost painful to watch, but I can’t stop watching it. It is not like I’m sat there, reviewing a beer and everything’s very still. Everything is mental.” 

Nothing is more mental than the camerawork, which jerks and zooms with a frenetic intensity that would shame a Jason Bourne film. (Except rather than two assassins fighting to death with a pen, you’re watching somebody down a Cruzcampo outside The Coach & Horses.) 

There’s a reason why I haven’t yet mentioned the cameraman: he doesn’t have one. Or rather, he has lots – more than 50 different people have filmed a review by his reckoning. Mates, dates, cousins, his dad, even the odd celebrity. “When I started out, it was people who had no idea how to work the camera.” Professional connections ensure he’s now in safer hands, even though those hands still change constantly.  

For a while after making the Instagram public, Hendy treated Schooner as a hobby, albeit one whose potential he considered vast. Last January, he started to follow a regular content schedule, uploading several reviews a week. His followers blew up, a few hundred becoming a few hundred thousand. (He has 375k at the time of writing.) By December, he was mainstream enough for the Spectator to anoint him the next PM. A pisstake, sure, but not an unaffectionate one.    

An excerpt from that Spectator article: “What explains the breakout success? There’s something infectious in his self-confidence. Then there’s the sense that posh is back in the zeitgeist. In an era where even Clapham has become exclusive, SS serves a perfect cocktail of the blissfully self-unaware and the basically-likeable. Aspirational but daft; not threatening.” 

Fair comment, although “blissfully self-unaware” only applies to Schooner rather than Hendy, and I’m not convinced the writer had that distinction in mind. (Let’s assume so.) Hendy grins when I bring up the article. “I thought it was brilliant! My agent told me not to interact with it but I thought it was brilliant.”  

If 2024 was the breakout, 2025 has been a year of consolidation and collaboration. Hendy kicked off this January working with Heineken and Spencer Matthews’ CleanCo. In March, he began a year-long career break to fully commit to Schooner. His content has become increasingly international: in the last few months he has toured the States, flown a hot air balloon in Turkey and partied in Ibiza (the DJ played his theme). There will be more merchandise, more events. Eventually he hopes to release his own beer but that’s years away – he plans to try all the others first. (He estimates he’s scored more than 500 so far.)   

Although his content will inevitably evolve, the quest for the perfect Guinness will remain ongoing. Guinness is his favourite beer to rate, and tends to elicit the strongest reaction. “People really care about a good Guinness. It does fluctuate massively depending on various factors within a pub: temperature; how it’s stored; how it travelled over; how clean the glasses are; how was it poured? There’s so many factors you can dive into.” He’s scored a few places 9.2, including The Devonshire, The Guinea Grill, Mc & Sons, and Mulligans in Manchester. The highest numbers will be found across the Irish sea – but of course, finding a ten isn’t really the point. 

Who would he most like to score a Schooner with? “Jeremy Clarkson,” says Hendy immediately. “I think Jeremy Clarkson is brilliant. He’s a great character and he is arguably the biggest influencer in the UK.” Other nominees include James Blunt – “he’s got a pub, I feel that’s achievable within the next few months” – and Guy Ritchie. His name isn’t mentioned but Dave Portnoy would presumably also make a nice full-circle moment.  

For a man who drinks most days, Hendy looks in remarkably good nick. While Schooner Scorer wouldn’t exist if he didn’t enjoy a drink, its success offers compelling evidence that he isn’t a total pisshead. “I’ve always had a good relationship with alcohol,” says Hendy. “It’s never been much of an issue.” A stint working in nightclubs as a student helped him appreciate the difference between cheerfully pissed and totally paralytic. “Don’t get me wrong, I drink a lot, but I’m able to dial in, make sure I’m not some sloppy drunk.” 

Mixed within the beer reviews, you’ll find a fair amount of running content on his Instagram: he posted sub three hours at the Paris marathon, celebrating by scoring a beer surrounded by his fellow runners. (Pearl Blonde at the Frog pub: 7.9.) You would need to be a frightful cynic to watch the video – a crowd of justly elated people united in the dizzy high of accomplishment – and not experience a serotonin jolt. You might even find yourself dusting off the running shoes. 

Time to drink up: Hendy has an evening meeting in Chelsea. Naturally, he’s travelling via Lime Bike. Will he be recognised? “It’s cringe to admit but yeah. I’ll Lime Bike to Chelsea now, and I’ll get ten people shouting ‘Schooner!’” It’s a nice image: our hero streaking down King’s Road into the sunset, serenaded by drinkers whenever he passes a pub.  

What does Hendy hope a reader will take from this profile? “This guy isn’t an idiot who goes around getting drunk all the time,” he replies. “He’s trying to build a community.”

Trying and succeeding, in his own unique style. I’ll drink to that. 

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