One one things

Today’s post is outsourced to a man who would have done a far better job than I. Unfortunately, an assassin’s bullet exactly three years ago prevents him from being among us. The following is a speech that was made by Minister Lakshman Kadirgamar to the Sri Lankan cricket team during the Natwest Trophy 2002 involving Sri Lanka, England and South Africa. Sri Lanka had just lost to England but a few days later went on to lift the trophy, beating England in the final at Lords.

“Captain Atapattu and members of the Sri Lankan team, Members of the Sri Lankan community, Friends of Sri Lanka, Ladies and Gentlemen. Some historians say, I think uncharitably, that cricket is really a diabolical political strategy, disguised as a game, in fact a substitute for war, invented by the ingenious British to confuse the natives by encouraging them to fight each other instead of their imperial rulers. The world is divided into two camps - those who revel in the intricacies of cricket and those who are totally baffled by it, who cannot figure out why a group of energetic young men should spend days, often in the hot sun or bitter cold, chasing a ball across an open field, hitting it from time to time with a stick - all to the rapturous applause of thousands, now millions, of ecstatic spectators across the world. The game has developed a mystical language of its own that further bewilders those who are already befuddled by its complexities. In the course of my travels I have a hard time explaining to the non-cricketing world - in America, China, Europe and Russia - that a ‘googly’ is not an Indian sweetmeat; that a ’square cut’ is not a choice selection of prime beef; that a ‘cover drive’ is not a secluded part of the garden; that a ‘bouncer’ is not a muscular janitor at a night club, that a ‘yorker’ is not some exotic cocktail mixed in Yorkshire or that a ‘leg-break’ is not a sinister manoeuvre designed to cripple your opponent’s limbs below the waist.

Ladies and Gentlemen, let me see whether politics and cricket have anything in common. Both are games. Politicians and cricketers are superficially similar, and yet very different. Both groups are wooed by the cruel public who embrace them today and reject them tomorrow. Cricketers work hard; politicians only pretend to do so. Cricketers are disciplined; discipline is a word unknown to most politicians in any language. Cricketers risk their own limbs in the heat of honourable play, politicians encourage others to risk their limbs in pursuit of fruitless causes while they remain secure in the safety of their pavilions. Cricketers deserve the rewards they get; the people get the politicians they deserve. Cricketers retire young; politicians go on for ever. Cricketers unite the country; politicians divide it. Cricketers accept the umpire’s verdict even if they disagree with it; politicians who disagree with an umpire usually get him transferred. Cricketers stick to their team through victory and defeat, politicians in a losing team cross over and join the winning team. Clearly, cricketers are the better breed.

It is said that the task of a foreign minister is to lie effusively for his country abroad. That may be true, but it is certainly true that he has to fight for his country and defend it at all times. Our cricketers may recall that in the run-up to the 1996 World Cup, Australia refused to play a match in Colombo, citing security reasons. Shane Warne said he wouldn’t come to Colombo because he couldn’t do any shopping there. The press asked me for a comment. I said “shopping is for sissies”. There was a storm of protest in Australia. A TV interviewer asked me whether I had ever played cricket. I said I had played before he was born - without helmets and thigh guards, on matting wickets that were full of holes and stones, and I had my share of broken bones to show it. My friend the Australian foreign minister was drawn into the fray and phoned me. We decided to cool things down. A combined India/Pakistan team came to Colombo at very short notice to play an exhibition match in place of the Australian match. It was a magnificent gesture of South Asian solidarity. Against strong security advice I went on to the field to greet and thank our friends from India and Pakistan. When the whole episode was over I sent a bouquet of flowers to my Australian counterpart. Flowers are also for sissies.

I remember vividly the incident that occurred in Australia when Murali was called for throwing and Arjuna led his team to the boundary, in protest, but cleverly refrained from crossing it. I was watching TV in Colombo. As a past captain I asked myself what I would have done in Arjuna’s place. In my mind I had no hesitation in supporting his decision. A few minutes later the phone rang. The President of the Board called to ask for advice. I said Arjuna was right because a captain must, on the field, stand up for his men and protect them, but the consequences must not be allowed to go too far; good lawyers must be engaged and a reasonable compromise must be reached. That was done. During that tour I paid an official visit to Australia. My friend the Australian foreign minister in the course of a dinner speech invited me to go with him the next day to Adelaide, his home town, to watch the final day’s play. I knew what the result was going to be. In my reply I said that at the end of the match I did not want to be the one to tell him that Australia had “won by a Hair,’. Accordingly, I went back home, as planned, to maintain the good relations that we have with Australia.

Foreign ministers sometimes find themselves in very difficult situations. Take the case of the Foreign Minister of Uganda. President Idi Amin told him that he wanted to change the name of Uganda to Idi. The minister was asked to canvas world opinion and return in two weeks. He did not do so. He was summoned and asked to explain. He said: “Mr. President, I have been informed that there is a country called Cyprus. Its citizens are called Cypriots, If we change the name of our country to ‘Idi’ our citizens would be called…Idiots”. Reason prevailed. A story goes that a shark was asked why diplomats were his preferred food. He replied “because their brains being small are a tasty morsel, their spines being supple I can chew on them at leisure - and they come delightfully marinated in alcohol.” Ladies and Gentlemen, as I approach the close of this brief address I wish to speak directly to our Sri Lankan team. Today we lost a match. But you lost to the rain and M/s Duckworth and Lewis. You did not lose to England. Only a few weeks ago you had a resounding victory against South Africa. You will win again tomorrow. What is important is to keep up your confidence and spirits. All of us, your fellow countrymen and women, have been enormously impressed in recent times by the commitment, discipline, athleticism and determination that you have displayed in the field. The people are with you. We all know that each and every one of you, are constantly busy honing your skills. We can see that you are maintaining a high standard of physical fitness. When the people see this it gives them not only immense pleasure but the moral upliftment that Sri Lankans are capable of in rising to the challenge of sustained performance. Every team loses. It takes two to play a game. One has to lose. It is the manner in which you play the game which gives the promise of success to come. It is a great pleasure to see how youngsters are being drafted into the national team. Our team is united; it reflects all the races and religions of our country.

Cricket, like all international sport today, is highly competitive; and so it must be, and so it must remain. It must always be regarded as a very high honour to represent one’s country at any sport. All of you are role models for our youth. They will be looking to see how you take defeat. To exult in victory is easy, to remain well balanced in defeat is a mark of maturity. Do not allow yourselves to be disturbed by the armchair critics who will no doubt engage in a display of theoretical learning on how the game was played. Many of these critics have never put bat to ball. It makes them feel good to indulge in the past time of amateur criticism. They do not know what it is to face fast bowling in fading light; to engage in a run race against daunting odds; to find the stamina and sheer physical endurance to spend concentrated hours in the field of play. They know nothing of the psychological pressure that modern sportsmen are subject to. Therefore, my advice to you is - ignore them. Go your way with customary discipline and methodical preparation for the next game, the next series in different parts of the world under different conditions. For me it has been a great pleasure and an honour to be here with you tonight. When I was invited to be the Chief Guest at this occasion on my way to New York for the General Assembly of the United Nations, I accepted with eager anticipation of meeting our cricketers and relaxing for a moment. Nobody told me that I had to make a speech, until last night when it dawned on me then that there is no such thing as a free dinner!”

Back in town after a fantastic ten days in Kathmandu, and back to the chaos that is SAARC. Being in Sri Lanka we never really appreciate the wonder that is SAARC - I guess bc there’s not much of a wonder. But up in Nepal they really do take SAARC seriously - at every third corner I got some concession bc I had brown skin and wasn’t Nepalese. Anyway, more about that later. I’m back, and back in time for test cricket.

As i’ve undoubtedly said 18 times before, few things give me more pleasure than a weekend at the SSC watching SL inevitably whip the opposition. That is of course unless the opposition is Australia or drugged up Pakistan. I knew that Mohammad Asif was on something to make the ball swing in such a psychadelical manner on our benign pitchers. Damn stoner. But yes, some SSC inevitables do stand - A Mahela Jayawardena century, something similar, if less graceful, by our man Sam and of course bucketfulls for Murali. However there were some pleasing changes - Murali didn’t have to bowl 76% of the overs and opposition batsman couldn’t relax at one end. Over at King Cricket they put things nicely. “The batsman now have a choice, get out to Murali or get out to Mendis?” Damn straight.

Despite oversleeping a tad, we managed to get to SSC around 9.45 and while queueing to get tickets through the tiny hole in the wall, a mini-huge cheer erupted from the ground. The guy in front of me grunted and vented his frustrations at the hole - “mun out wenna issella ticket eka denna oy!” I mumbled something in agreement and soon we were in the brilliant HSBC stand settling down with 4 other local chaps and a random white guy to watch what I expected to be an indian middle order fightback following their first innings surrender. But first we’d have to see through the first innings tail. As expected they didn’t have much answer to the new spin duo except for the overly tall Ishanth Sharma who used all of his 20 foot reach to take everything on the half volley. In the process he delayed the inevitable by an hour or so. The bastard. He really ought to take a leaf out of the Dinesh Karthik manual of how to get out when your team needs you. Fortunately Mendis sorted Laxman out with a peach through the gap. Before long the openers were back in action and inevitably there was spin before lunch and Murali nailed Sehwag - Benson didn’t give it and Mahela immediately asked for a referral. The lack of a TV at the top tier at HSBC is the one flaw in the stand so the cheer had to wait for a text from bro in S’pore which read “dead and buried.” Satisfied with 5 wickets in the morning session, we trooped off to get some mustard lamb and fried rice from the members’. Yum.

The afternoon session was spectacular. After a couple of token overs of seam, Mendis nailed Laxman for the second time in a couple of hours. In walked the big fish Sachin bhai and before long there was a flurry of activity - Murali tweaking, Sachin sweeping and Dilshan leaping through it all to pull off a blinder that was again referred. Before the umpire’s decision there was a yelp from the Sri Lankan players followed by high 5s as they got the signal from the dressing room that they got their man. From then on it was a capitulation. Ghambir was done in by a piece of Murali magic of old. Ever since Murali developed the doosra he seems to be relying less on flight and guile and more on beating the batsman off the pitch. I was recently watching a youtube clip of him take 16 wickets at the Brit Oval in 1998, and it’s so different to how he has been bowling of late. But this weekend was a bit different. The flight was back and watching at the ground it was wonderful to take in the nuances of this great bowler’s armoury. When he tossed it up to Ghambir I could feel myself being lured on to the front foot to take it on the half volley, and I imagined Ghambir panic as he saw the ball drop earlier than expected, pitch and turn passed that fumbling outside edge for Prasanna Jayawardena to pull off a wonderful stumping. It was like slow motion. We broke from a trance of Murali magic to shout in celebration along with the rest of the stand that had now swelled to near capacity.

Ganguly was done in by a quicker one and Dravid again struggled to tackle the young Mendis. Before we knew it the innings had folded. 14 wickets in a day, 9 wickets in about 3 hours. I was thrilled to have seen Mendis’ debut - I had my doubts about him in test cricket since I expected India’s batsman to play him with more certainty than they managed in the crash boom bang ODIs. Unfortunately for them the mystery continues, and I suspect it will continue in Galle. Whatever happens, I’ll be there to see it unfold. Good luck boys.

December is nice for many reasons, but one of the highlights this year was the England cricket tour. It’s been an year since our last competitive home series so I had planned to get in as many days of live cricket in between Islamabad, Delhi and beyond as possible. I had made an early miscalculation in assuming that the first test would be played in Galle - something told me that this was the case so in November itself I had booked rooms at the Zimmer in Unawatuna. Unfortunately that didn’t quite pan out as planned but we went to Una anyway - and while driving up I got a text message from a friend. “watching the game or enjoying the beach?” I replied saying that I’m on the road and asked the score. “33-5 go with the latter!” Bad form. I would have loved to be in Kandy for the game but had to settle for listening to Murali breaking the record over the phone with a friend at the ground while I was at work, and also missed the best part of the final session but squeezed home to watch Mali crash through Hoggard’s awkward defense.

SSC was a huge disappointment - Islamabad meant just 2 days of watching, the first and the last, but the wicket really didn’t match the standards that the SSC usually maintains. The result was fairly dull cricket with nothing in it for the bowlers. In those two days I just saw 2 wickets - Micheal Vaughan the victim both times. So I was really looking forward to Galle despite the threat of rain and a half baked ground. I got back from Delhi on the 20th evening and drove up to Galle with a friend early the next morning to catch day 4. The weather was fabulous all the way - the sky was blue, sun was out and the sea looked super. We reached Galle at 10 and was pleasantly surprised by the ease of parking in the large Samanal park. We had no idea which stand would be the best bet so we walked around the outside till we saw the pitch and gauged which stand would overlook the bowlers arm. The ticket prices were a rip off for test cricket - Rs. 1000 is about 10 times what you’d normally pay to watch a local test match, but that’s the effect of the Barmy Army. We had picked special “enclosure B” - which was basically a bunch of chairs lined up under a makeshift tent. It was warm, there were a million suddas around us - but the view was great, we were close to the players and the atmosphere was superb. Vaughan and Cook were batting well, the latter continuing to impress after his disastrous start in Kandy.

I watched Vaughan being dismissed for the 3rd time when he flashed outside off at the impressive Chanaka Welegedara for Maiya to hold a nice one head high. A quick aside - Welegedara was superb in the first innings, specially in nailing Colly. I haven’t seen enough consistent swing from him but he has nice zip which is encouraging. At first glance he may well be a handy successor to Chaminda Vaas - and he’s already one up on Vaasy by overtaking the latter as the Lankan with the most initials (no mean feat). So heres to many more wickets for Uda Walawwe Mahim Bandaralage Chanaka Asanka Welegedara. As Vaughan fell the two of us yelled approval while the stand went quiet and one barmy soldier cupped his hands over his mouth and shouted “It’s not Twenty20 Micheal” But all in all England seemed to have learned following their shock 1st innings 81. As Cook punched Vaasy to the offside fence, the score ticked over to 82 and the English supporters stood in ironic applause. Despite being in the minority in our own country it was quite fun being amongst the Barmy Army - they were witty, chirpy and generous in their applause despite the disappointing efforts of their team. Around 11.15 it became extremely humid and I nervously looked over my shoulder to see clouds loom over the fabulous fort. It didn’t take long for it to erupt - 5 minutes before lunch and the heavens let loose their seams and rain fell by the bucket engulfing the stadium within minutes. The ground staff was fantastic and managed to cover the entire ground in no time - but it was too late. We hung around for 2 hours but the drizzles kept returning every time the staff tried to make some progress. It didn’t help that our makeshift tents were not exactly waterproof. On the bright side - extra beach time.

The sea at Unawatuna was, as is usual this time of year, lovely. Despite the lack of sun and the odd speck of rain, the water was warm, calm - and pleasantly empty. The only company we did have in the water was rather unwanted. I drifted into a shallow area and felt a sting on my right arm - it felt like some slimy worm like creature had made contact with my arm. I got out of the water to inspect my arm which promptly became inflamed in the immediate area of contact. This happened a couple more times to my leg, body and finally face. Staying away from the shallow parts helped and we headed back to shore after a couple of hours. Tilak suggested it was probably jelly fish stings - the pain eased shortly but there’s a pretty neat looking scar on my right bicep. Tea followed by early dinner was had at the Lucky Tuna - seafood platter, lucky tuna special fried rice and devilled calamari. Gorgeous. Rikaz came and asked how the food was and I said it was excellent as always, he grinned and gave a thumbs up, “Best food on the beach - in my opinion” Got to agree with the man. I love the music at the LT, there’s usually Jack Johnson, Marley, Dylan, Clapton, Chapman, the Eagles and so on in the early evening, followed by some Buddha Bar, Cafe Del Mar etc. after sunset. We spent several hours lying on the beach in front of the Tuna, star gazing and chatting before the drizzles drove us away to the shelter of the Roti shop for some Chocolate roti with Sisira before calling it a night.

The next morning we had breakfast at Tilak’s to follow a quick dip (and one more jellyfish sting) before setting off to get decent seats. The breeze was encouraging and helped keep the clouds moving. Arriving at the ground at 9.20 we got excellent seats in the same area as the previous day and settled down to watch Mali bound in to Bell to begin proceedings. The English started well and the one blemish was Prasanna’s costly lapse down leg off Cook. However SL was soon in the hunt as Murali produced a creeper that shot into middle and off under Bell’s defence. Finally I saw a dismissal other than Micheal Vaughan. KP was disappointing all series, and he never got going in this game either but was hanging in there keeping Cook company- but Murali seemed to have his number. KP was keen to dominate and he kept shuffling down to Murali to knock him passed mid on - Murali kept throwing it up and mid on was dropped a bit back. Pietersen smashed one to the long on fence but was then beaten in the air a couple of times, I saw Maiya move to short mid at the start of the over - he was waiting for KP to go for the on drive without reaching the pitch. Something had to give. Murali threw it in the air and KP chipped down, he didn’t reach the pitch and checked his drive but couldn’t keep it down - straight to Maiya who stayed low and flicked it in the air - breakthrough before lunch. It was a lovely dismissal bc there was a plan a-foot and I could just see it unfold in my mind before it actually happened. Game on.

And how. Colly came in - the last of the must get wickets. Just a few minutes before lunch and there was something in the air. Murali continued around the wicket and second ball to Colly was just a blur - he appeared to shuffle down the track and was beaten by what I guessed was a doosra - a flurry of activity as PJ whipped off the bails and charged down the wicket, fist in the air - 2 in 3 and this had to be our game. We were ecstatic - a few mins ago England looked like they would get to lunch just two down with a few clouds building up over the ocean. A nervy Bopara came in - more men crowded the bat - I wouldn’t want to be in his shoes. We were seated around the long on area and by some chance had a great view of what happened next. Bopara edged it and Maiya dived to make a great save - Bopara instinctively took off for the single and Maiya flicked it back to his namesake in one motion, who whipped the bails off for the 2nd time in two balls. The way the boys celebrated we knew we’d got another one. Maiya ran half way around the ground and we had really pulled the rug under their feet. The Barmy army was crestfallen - the stand was dead silent except for the 2 of us screaming our heads off - 5 down, 5 to go - 2 sessions on a 5th day wicket. It was really great being so close to the players - Vaasy ambled down to Cook’s 3rd man and I showed him a fist urging them to finish it off, he nodded back. At lunch the humidity began to increase - a bad sign. I nervously looked over my shoulders as once again the clouds built up over the Fort - it was going to belt down soon.

Some English supporters had finally lost patience - a banner was seen on the Fort which was really uncalled for - “15 days of torture, thanks for nothing England.” The Barmy army tried to rally some support - bursting into song with “Micheal Vaughan my Lord, Micheal Vaughan…” ad infinitum, and better songs like Rule Britannia. Time flies when you’re at the ground - even the lunch break just whizzes past after a couple of hot dogs followed by pani kadju ice cream. The stands were still messy - at least the temporary enclosures that we were in, and of course there was no scoreboard as yet. But I was amazed at how much had been done in the last few weeks - that is of course after remaining idle for the best part of 3 years. There are rumours afloat that the ground will not be able to continue hosting matches due to some technicality associated with the Fort’s status as a heritage site - but I hope that is done away with and the Galle stadium continues to play host to fantastic test matches. One things that I didn’t do during this game was to watch the match from the Fort walls itself - there’s always next time.

Post lunch England started well - Prior and the impressive Cook stuck it out for about an hour when the heavens really couldn’t hold it any longer. Warnaweera walked around nervously as the groundstaff gathered around waiting to swarm in to cover the pitch. The stadium was surrounded by dark, menacing clouds - and finally it let rip. This storm was more intense than the previous days’ one and the staff took ages to cover the entire ground. Within 5 mins I knew that there wouldn’t be a result in the game. It was a bit pathetic to see England fans dancing in the rain as if they had deserved to save the game - but I guess they needed some comic relief. We hung around for about half an hour and decided to head off as soon as the rain eased. Given yesterday’s performance I was convinced there’d be no more play following that shower. Just as we were leaving the ground dejected, the sun quietly crept through. I stopped, looked at the sea and saw more clouds - screw it. The security at the gate offered an interval pass but I waved it off - “Aiyo yanna epa, meka api dinanawa, balanna thawa payakin patan gani” I smiled at his optimism but carried on. The sun looked even brighter as we got to my car. I was sad that we couldn’t finish off the match - and something deep inside said that they might play. It was too late now - we were halfway to Hikkaduwa and we didn’t have interval passes. The radio news feeds weren’t very helpful when all of a sudden, just one hour after we left, Brian Thomas comes on YES fm saying that the game has resumed! We almost turned back but then decided that it’ll probably be drawn anyway - but we kept the radio tuned - hoping for a win but at the same time scared that we’d have thrown away a great chance to watch a fabulous finish. The next report said that Cook had fallen - into the tail, game on! Maybe we can stop somewhere and watch the end. But a few minutes later the rains returned and within a short while the match had been washed out. I was selfishly relieved - but I knew that the rains were always around the corner. It was an unfortunate end to the series - and much like in 2004, 1-0 did not in any way reflect the nature of Sri Lanka’s dominance. My first Galle test was a thoroughly enjoyable experience - let’s hope the next one has more sunshine and less jellyfish.

Due to ticketing issues Nepal didn’t quite work out. While it was a bit of a blow bc we were looking forward to it and had already planned quite a bit, it wasn’t the end of the world. On the bright side we’d be in Colombo to watch the World Cup finals and, as i’d find out a couple of days after the cancellation, new work commitments would have made things very difficult if the trip did go ahead. And Nepal isn’t really going anywhere so there’s always next time. We were considering alternatives within the country for the 4 days (including taking Monday 30th off) of Vesak and May day. The usual suspects were brought forward, Yala, Udawalave, Nuwara Eliya, Ella and even an out of season unawatuna trip. We eventually settled upon Wasgamuwa (also spelt Wasgomuwa for reasons i fail to fathom). I would have loved Yala but it’s a bit of a pain booking places at such short notice, and we were quite lucky to get rooms at Safari village in Wasgamuva so no complaints there. So about 10 ppl were due to show up between Sunday and Monday, after the last cricket watching session for a while.

The WC final ended on a sad note, not bc we lost but the circumstances. It’s a shame we didn’t have a full cricket match that would do justice to a final. But as is often the case in SL, things were put into perspective in the sharpest possible way. Power failures followed by explosions and the Colombo sky being lit up like a christmas tree. Phones rang frantically before the networks got jammed, and we watched through windows as planes flew around, not knowing whether they were SLAF or whatever else was out there. The rumour mills worked over time and nobody really had much idea what was going on. Things quietened down and we edged home nervously around half 3. I didn’t know what was going on in the match but knew it was raining and the boys had no chance in those conditions. Half the trip crew dropped out so it was just 5 of us who wanted to go anyway, we agreed to decide the next morning (in 4 hours time) to see if we still want to go ahead.

I woke up around 9am and a glance at the phone suggested that the 5 ppl were still in so we left Colombo around 9.45. The radio news headlines were about some random minister discussing wholesale prices and the latest in the French elections race, how very classy. We took the Kandy road to the Warakapola junc and went via Kurunegala to Matale. The drive from Matale through Laggala is one of the most picturesque in Sri Lanka. It takes you through the Knuckles range and the scenery is fabulous. The different shades of green on the hills, the trees interspersed with paddy plantations, natural bonsai created by the wind, the orchestra of crickets as you pass through tunnels of forest and the spectacular sheer drops from the road forced us to stop and admire for a few minutes. Along this route there’s a mini worlds end which isn’t all that interesting and a couple of nice looking bungalows which are pretty cleverly placed to capture the best of the views. Lucky sods. Naturally we made plans to revisit that area after setting up base in Wasgamuwa, it was much too pretty to be accorded just a simple drive through. The road quality depreciated sharply between the end of the knuckles forest and Wasgamuwa, and the scenery of course had a very tough act to follow.

We got to the little hotel around 4ish, which was pretty good time considering we stopped for brunch at Ambepussa. The rooms are pretty neat, we got a couple opposite the lake so the early morning view promised to drag you out of bed. But first things first, no time or energy for an evening round so we grabbed towels and bathers and ran off to find the nearest source of running water. A couple of the chaps had been to Was before so they rumbled through hazy memories but couldn’t pin point the location. We asked around a couple of locals about bathing spots, and an elderly villager said the place we wanted was now frequented by an elephant in musk. On another day we might have, but none of us had the energy to scamper away from an angry pachyderm. Instead we drove up along the bund of a water stream and picked a random place to take a dip. There was a fence bordering the stream which looked like it was electrified to keep the elephants away from the neighbouring farms. We asked a farmer whether its active and he said not till night, so we casually hopped over it. The water was warm and clean (what you can’t see or smell can’t hurt you) and I had the most pleasant swim since my shoulder decided to make a nuisance of itself. About half an hour later A yelps; “leach!” I was quite amused bc I had never heard of a swimming leach so I thought she was imagining things. She pointed to a twig like thing which she removed from her body. This added to the humour bc it was at least 3 inches long, far larger than any leach. And then to our amazement the twig doubled up and started swimming back towards her. She yelped and splashed out of the water. I was last in line to jump out of the water using the overhanging branch as a lever, and just before K had got out, the leach, or whatever it was, managed to attach itself on to me. I produced a melodramatic shriek and danced around a bit before hopping out of the water. The drama wasn’t over bc we were unsure about the status of the electric fence. K was the guinea pig and he got past unscathed. M was next and as soon as she touched it she quite casually said “it’s on.” Her tone didn’t suggest anything, but it seems she had actually scorched her finger and the shock had pushed her back. While she nursed her hand we crept along the wires until we reached a small gap and squeezed through to the safety of the jeep. Tiredness and lack of sleep saw us stagger into bed after a quick meal and a few drinks under the stars. There’d be 3 more days to enjoy so we needed all the rest we could muster.

After the fun of ‘96, the WC of 1999 was a big disappointment. It was a bad time bc it was smack bang during OL time, and that’s the one exam where everyone gets all excited and works hard, it’s only afterwards that you think, eh that was a bit of a waste of time. I don’t even remember my OL subjects anymore. But from the very first game of the 1999 edition, it just didn’t seem auspicious. It was a gloomy start, it looked cold and just not the party atmosphere world cups should be played in. Anyway, it wasn’t a great world cup at all other than the two Australia vs. South Africa games. Our own team wasn’t in great shape and we played poorly for most of the tournament. I couldn’t watch most of the matches due to study/school commitments, this wasn’t always a bad thing, specially our game against India. I didn’t even watch most of the final, which was fittingly one sided to round off a poor world cup.

2003 was a different matter. I was in uni at the time in England and naturally none of the games were shown on terrestial TV. S and I found an Australian pub near the covered market where they showed all the games live. The pub is called Bar Oz and is still around. The first match SL played was against New Zealand, and Sanath started things off in style with a super 100, holding the innings together with the surprise package that was Hashan Tillekaratne. The crowd at the Oz was small, but the two of us were easily the only Sri Lanka supporters. We then bowled superbly taking early wickets but Styris kept the Kiwis in the hunt all along with a massive hundred. But the spinners kept chipping away at the wickets and the boys produced a typical subcontinental spinner’s strangle even though the game was in south Africa. There was one kiwi supporter who kept chatting with me through the game, we had an enjoyable banter, and it helped that the game was close so we took turns at jabbing one another. The aussies in the Oz got behind NZ as well, but they didn’t really engage me at all, I guess it would have been different had the Aussies been playing. Styris finally fell going for one too many sixers and the game was ours. I didn’t even see our next two games bc they were over before I could make my way down to the Oz. The canada game was over before I woke up. I didn’t see the Kenya game either, damn good thing too.

The next big game was against the Windies. It was a day nighter so it started quite late in the piece. The Oz was quite full with the evening crowd but most ppl weren’t there to watch the cricket. We batted first again and didn’t do a great deal with the bat, Sanath scored again but the nature of the wicket suggested that the 220 odd we got may just be defendable. Vaas swung it all over the shop and we had a host of early wickets, and when Lara went we really were in business. I tend to get a bit dramatic when watching the boys play, when i’m at home i can get away with the big appeals and uninhibited advice on running between the wickets, but its more of an issue in public. With time the ppl at the Oz got used to me getting out of my chair and yelling at the tv, well at least they stopped turning around and staring after the initial surprise. The big moment in the match was when Dilhara nailed Sarwan with a bouncer and jammed his ear-ring against the helmet causing a lot of pain and a bit of blood. Hooper was LBW first ball to a slower one and I felt we had the game in the bag. Annoyingly towards the late middle Sarwan came back to bat, and even more annoyingly the Oz switched to the football. We rushed over to the Teddy JCR and were delighted to see some fellows watching the game. Sarwan was keeping the Windies in the game with some calculated hitting. Just when the game reached its climax some wanker stood up and changed the channel to Neighbours, and everyone else approved of the move. Bloody neutrals. Bloody soap operas and the Brit’s obsession with them. We scurried off to S’s room to catch the last bits on cricinfo. It was a cliff-hanger of a game. Sarwan kept swatting sixers over midwicket off the spinners but he was running out of partners. Murali bowled an amazing penultimate over, and in the end Pulasthi Gunaratne kept it tight enough to win it by 6 in the final over. I was annoyed that we had to resort to following the last 5 overs on cricinfo, but we were through to the next round, and that was what mattered.

The next game against South Africa was one of my most memorable cricket watching experiences. S had an essay so I went up to the Oz alone. I had a tute in the late morning so I rocked up about 20 overs into our innings. When I walked in there were about 3 tables pulled together with ppl using up pretty much all the room around the tables. I desparately looked for a seat and luckily spotted one bang in the middle of the group. Without thinking twice or asking anyone I walked up there, half an eye on the tele and sat myself down. The chaps either side of me looked perplexed. I grinned. It was then that I realised that I was right in the middle of a South African troupe. They were two different groups of supporters, originating from different parts of South Africa, but it was very evident that there was only one person rooting for Sri Lanka at the Oz. Marvan was batting superbly, driving beautifully on the up, cutting and flicking with ease, he looked right at home with the ball coming onto the bat. Aravinda gave him good support with his last big world cup innings. He hooked Makhaya for a great six and then flicked Andrew Hall over midwicket for another and I stood up and cheered like mad, it didn’t matter who was surrounding me. The Saffers were thoroughly amused by me, first they couldn’t pronounce my name so they called me Sri and then Dish. After a couple of attempts at correcting them I shrugged my shoulders and answered to Dish. One of them said that Australians would never have tolerated someone from the other camp sitting amongst them, but that he respects me for having the balls to come right into the lions den to cheer my team. To be honest if I had known it was 3 tables full of saffer supporters I would most probably have pulled a chair from somewhere else and sat down in a corner.

There was some great fun that day, I did my best to stand up to their sledging and I suspect i did a decent job of it. By the time the 2nd innings began the Saffers were quite high and became increasingly vocal. Each boundary by Smith and Gibbs brought about huge cheers, and I felt like a very small voice amongst a sea of springboks. So when Smith mistimed a pull off Aravinda down the throat of deep midwicket, I produced my loudest and most demonstrative cheer of the day. The Saffers continued to bat well but the spinners kept chipping away at the wickets. The South Africans at the Oz became increasingly vociferous as well, they were literally in my face with their support for their team, the smell of beer was strong. I didn’t back down. With each wicket I’d get out of my chair and punch the air and yell something in Sinhalese or English depending on how much I wanted to be understood. When Murali bowled Gibbs on the sweep the game swung towards Sri Lanka. Unfortunately at this point the noise was such that I couldn’t hear Sanga’s legendary sledging of Pollock. “Oh, here comes the skipper, oh the weight of all these expectations, he’s going to let his whole country down if he fails, 42 million ppl depending on you, Shaun!” Boucher kept the flag up, chipping runs as he usually does, but when Pollock was dismissed the guys at the Oz got increasingly antsy. I was told to shut up a couple of times when my cheering became too loud for their liking, but I wasn’t about to oblige. Klusener really struggled in his first few balls and couldn’t get it past the square. That helped Sri Lanka, and with the rains coming nobody really knew what was required. Boucher smashed Murali over midwicket for 6 and punched the air as he jogged to the non-strikers end. He defended the final ball of the over and happily strode away from the wicket as the teams left the field for rain. It was then that the Duckworth Lewis figures came on the screen and it was apparent that South Africa hadn’t done enough to win. Everyone at the Oz was pissed off royally. I knew it was time to shut up. One guy was convinced it was fixed. “I wouldn’t be surprised man if Allan Donald walks up and gives Boucher a hug (after Donald’s cock up in the ‘99 WC semi final), and then Hansie’s ghost comes and starts dancing on the pitch. Fucking joke.” They were really angry so I didn’t want to stay there and celebrate, I quietly left after shaking hands and consoling the fellows immediately next to me.

The super 6’s didn’t go too well for us, we lost to the Aussies and to India before beating Zimbabwe to reach the semis. I only watched the Aussie game, and while we got thrashed it was another fun cricket watching experience. There was no way I was going to the Oz to watch a SL v Aussie game, so instead I headed up to the Jamaican pub up on Cowley Road. It was early morning, 8am, so I was surprised to find them open. I was a bit nervous about going there after Dilhara had felled Sarwan in the previous game, anyway I plucked up my courage and walked in. I spent the whole day there, and the Jamaican owner, a legend in Cowley, was thoroughly welcoming and chatted with me all the time about cricket, about how he moved to Oxford from the West Indies and life in the two contrasting countries, we shared a distaste for Australian cricket, “They abuuuse us mun, them Australians, they always abusing us men of colour. Racism mun, it has no place on that field.” His wife made me some Jerk chicken for lunch and it didn’t even matter that we were being thrashed in the match. S joined me after lunch but by then the game was almost up. Aravinda played some lovely shots and showed that age is no barrier to class. We went down big time, but I left the Jamaican pub thoroughly satisfied with the day. I was in Oxford about a year and a half ago for my graduation, and I tried to go to the Jamaican restaurant one night but it was full, but through the window I saw the owner and we smiled and waved at one another, acknowledging a shared memory.

We played well in the semis, particularly in the field. The batting was undone by some fiery stuff by Brett Lee. He cleaned up Marvan with the fastest ball i’ve ever seen. A couple of balls later he bowled an identicle delivery, at almost the same pace at Sanath, but he smacked him over square leg for a mighty six. But it wasn’t to be, our batsman simply were not good enough, that said most batsman would not have stood up to that test. The final was again thoroughly one sided as Australia creamed the Indians with Ponting stamping his class. The 2003 world cup was a bit of an enigma. Nobody would have guessed the semi finalists before the tournament began, and while Sri Lanka did well in the first round, they did bugger all in the super sixers and yet made the semis. It obviously wasn’t our best world cup, but it was one of my better cricket watching experiences. Heres to a good one in 2007.

P.s.
Herschelle Gibbs has just plundered six 6’s off one Van Bunge over. Minnow bashing at its best.

As I write this Vaas and Malinga are roughing up an inexperienced Bermudan side in Sri Lanka’s opening game in the 2007 edition of the cricket world cup. This is my 4th world cup as a cricket watcher, and while it’s started off a bit slow, I expect this one to be yet another great cricket watching experience. The first time I was introduced to the game was when my grandfather rudely interrupted a pillow fight between my brother and I to announce that there was cricket being shown on the tele. This was in August 1992, a test match between SL and Australia. I remember little of it except flashes of kaluwitharana (132n.o. on debut), Mahanama and Gurusinghe. And of course the 4th innings capitulation to Greg Matthews and one S.K. Warne. Luckily I wasn’t too put off by the terrible loss and continued to watch the game. Unfortunately by this time the 1992 World cup was over so I had to wait 3 and a half years for my first world cup.

The first game that I remember was the one we played against Zimbabwe. I was in school at the time and the only way to follow the first session was by the cheers that could be heard from the SSC. Soon afterwards however a bunch of us stole off to the ground to watch the second innings. We had cleaned up the Zims for a smallish score, 220 odd, but Sanath and Kalu were both out really early. Again my memory is sketchy but I remember Gurusinghe smacking some big big sixers and Aravinda playing beautifully for 90 odd. It was a great atmosphere at the SSC, there were naturally no seats but we were standing on the grass beyond long on so the view was great. I don’t think any of us realised what was to come over the 4 weeks. The first big game we played in ‘96 was against the Indians in Delhi I think. This was a weekend game so I watched the whole thing from home with the family. The first innings was terrible, Tendulkar smacked a hundred and we were looking down the barrel. But Sanath and Kalu had other ideas, Prabhakar was hit out of cricket, Srinath was smacked around and we danced in the living room in surprise and delight more than expectation, there didn’t seem any way that assault was sustainable. Sanath carried on for 70 something but even though Aravinda went cheap to Kumble, Hashan and the skip carried us home. I couldn’t even watch the Kenya game bc of school, I watched a bit of the Kenyan batting and only remember a guy called Onayango batting against Vaasy without any headgear and Vaas promptly bounced him and whacked him on the head. The mad bugger didn’t even flinch, and actually ran a leg bye off that.

The first quarter final was also a weekend game and there was just one highlight in that game, Sanath Jayasuriya. His assault was so devastating that Atherton called for a withdrawal of the 15 over restrictions. By this time most people had real expectations that Sri Lanka had a chance to go all the way, and I’m surprised that I actually went to school on the day of the semi-final, the day nighter in Bengal. At around 2 O clock everyone congregated around the Junior Science lab, around the single TV, to watch the opening exchanges. The first thing that struck me was the crowd. It was massive. I had never seen 100,000 ppl gathered at one venue, and I could not even imagine playing cricket in front of a crowd like that. I think everyone in the room was expecting the now fabled opening pair to fire. And fable is the appropriate word. It’s one of the great myths in world cricket that Sanath and Kalu set the world cup alight. In actual fact Kalu only managed about 70 runs in the whole world cup, most of which came in the Kenya game. Nonetheless, it was completely heartbreaking to see both of them being dismissed in the very first over. The science lab, packed to capacity with students, teachers, lab staff, pretty much everyone bar the principal, was in shocked silence, in complete contrast to Eden Gardens which erupted twice in 5 minutes. The lab emptied in no time, without Sanath I guess ppl thought our game plan was in tatters. A few of us stayed on in the lab and were treated to what remains one of the finest ODI innings of all time. Aravinda caressed, glided and stroked his way to a quite wonderful 66 off 40 something balls. Every shot was perfect, silky cover drives, smooth flicks and a couple of swivelled pulls and the momentum had shifted. When Guru played a silly shot and got out for 1 I don’t think any of us even noticed. When Kumble finally flattened Aravinda’s middle stump we were right back in the game. I rushed back home in time to watch Mahanama, Hashan and skipper nudge and nurdle us to a decent score.

There really is nothing quite like watching a day night game, test cricket is the sport in its purest and best form, but a quality day nighter can be almost as good entertainment wise. 250 odd was challenging, but the Indian batting was mighty and we needed to get early wickets. The family congregated around the living room tv and everyone was on their feet cheering when Sidhu fell early to Vaas. But Tendulkar and Manjrekar began to take the game away from us. They got close to a hundred for one when Tendulkar tried to paddle Sanath down to fine leg and took off for a single without realising Kalu had the ball in his gloves, the bails were whipped off and we were up, sarongs hiked up, fists in the air and yelling approval at the tv. And then the procession began. Azhar chipped one straight back at Dharmasena, Manjrekar was bowled around his legs and Jadeja was bowled by another Sanath ripper. Nobody could believe what was going on, the wicket had become demonic and even Dharmasena was turning it square. The living room was abuzz with appeals, screamed advice and raucous encouragement. The game finished on a sad note as the Calcutta crowd couldn’t accept defeat and disrupted the entire game. It didn’t make much difference, we were clearly the superior team and deserved every bit to go to Lahore.

The TV was on for several hours before the scheduled start of play in 1996 final, I wore my lucky shirt and as usual the whole extended family gathered in our living room, special floor cushions were brought from downstairs to accomodate the extras and nervous excitement filled the room. I still remember getting goosebumps as the team stood to attention for the national anthem, everyone at home stood up as well. Arjuna won the toss and for the nth time Vaas struck relatively early, Mark Waugh clipped him to square leg where Sanath held on to the biggest fish in the Aussie pond. Taylor and Ponting batted superbly, particularly tubby Taylor who was really aggressive and gave Pramodya Wickremasinghe a tough time. Just when they threatened to take the game away, Aravinda was brought into the attack and Taylor top edged a sweep and Sanath held a pressure catch at deep square and the room erupted in cheers and screams as aiya and I ran around punching the air. Ponting was cleaned up by Aravinda as he tried to late cut one that was too full and spun a fair bit. Warne was sent in as a pinch hitter and everyone was thrilled when the cocky bugger clumsily fell over a Murali off break as Kalu smartly whipped off the bails. When Steve Waugh got a leading edge off Dharmasena, we were very much in control. Stuart Law and Healy batted superbly to bring the Aussies back into the game, but 243 was a very chasable target.

The next 45 minutes was probably the slowest 45mins in my life. I was just so nervous, I desparately wanted the boys to win, but I was so proud that they had come so far I don’t think I would have cared if we lost at this stage. I remember Sanath’s eyes when he came out to bat. They were wide open and white as a sheet. That made me even more nervous. Sanath got an early boundary as he chipped McGrath over mid-wicket and his eyes widened even more. But something wasn’t right, he just seemed so edgy, my palms were sweaty and nobody spoke much in the first few overs. With Sanath on 8 he cut a Fleming ball hard into the ground and took off as the ball raced to McGrath at third man. To my horror Sanath turned blind and took off for a second. McGrath fired in a return, flat and perfect, Healy whipped off the bails and it looked tight as hell. Sanath’s bat looked marginally on the line, but the replay didn’t show clearly when the bails came off and the benefit of the doubt should have gone to Sanath, but the red light flashed and we were shattered. I was angry that the decision went against us and when Kalu tried to pull a Fleming skidder but only reached Bevan at square leg, things looked really bad. I guess deep down we expected a repeat of the semi-final, and by now we knew that the openers go for it and even if they do get out we bat really deep. But this was Australia, they had hammered us in the recent test series and though we matched them blow for blow in the B&H series in December/January, they won convincingly. We needed to beat them to give a little bit back for the treatment the team received in Australia earlier in the year. The Murali throwing incident, the ball tampering, the terrible terrible umpiring and finally the insult of Australia not playing in Colombo due to security fears.

Aravinda started superbly, driving dead straight followed by a pull high over mid-wicket and though it wasn’t quite as authoritative as the semi-final, he and the Guru helped us claw back into the game. We were cruising after a good century stand between the two vetarans. Warne didn’t look threatening, guru pulled him over long off for a huge six and things looked very good. Even the Aussie fielding was slack, Stuart Law dropped an absolute sitter off Gurusinghe at deep square, it really seemed to be our day. But it was Australia, they don’t give up. And sure enough Reiffel bowled a tight spell and forced Guru to play an ungainly swipe only to see off stump pegged back. Enter skipper, and the aussies were pumped. I don’t think we could have asked for a better pair to take us home. Arjuna, cool as ice, nudged Warne and Mark Waugh around for ones and twos while Aravinda did the same, punctuated with the odd boundary. When the required target was down to about 40 it slowly became clear that we’re actually going to win this. Warne drew Arjuna forward and he smashed one back at catchable height but Warne let it slip through; much to our delight. Arjuna then pulled a Warne full toss way over fine leg for six as the target fell exponentially. Everyone was on their feet by now, cheering, nervous, adrenaline racing. Aravinda caressed a couple of boundaries off McGrath and got to his 100 with a glorious flick to fine leg for 4. Aravinda, after all the years of wanton hooking and hoicking, had matured into one of the finest batsman of his generation, and this was his culmination. Australian shoulders finally dropped, and when Arjuna nudged McGrath down to third man for 4, the firecrackers split open the night. There were tears, embraces and the most naked joy and pride i have ever felt. A youthful Murali ran onto the field with Gurusinghe, Mahanama and the entire crew. Percy went crazy with his flag, and Benazhir Bhutto whispered something to Arjuna before giving him the trophy, Arjuna grinned, dimples and all, finally it was ours, we did it. And then they played that world cup song in urdu with clips from our campaign, and I remember watching it, head cocked to a side, silly smile on the face, letting it all sink in for the first time.

Poor form these days. I’ve just been through 15 pages of mathematical dribble which concluded that the average Bangladeshi will increase consumption by about $1 if income increases by $1, and that if they have more access to credit that they will increase consumption by a greater amount. And the buggers use about 10 different models to prove this, GETS, ADF, BETS, FUKS..bloody jokers. And for good measure they rape Friedman, Modigliani and other consumption bad boys in the process.

In other poor news I managed to put my trousers into the washing machine with my Ipod in the pocket. I thought I had lost the bugger so I was looking round frantically when I came home to find it on the washing machine, clean as a whistle. As expected it didn’t work despite trying to tip the water out of it from all possible angles. That’s what happens when technology makes things smaller and smaller. I comfort myself knowing that it was a Shuffle, 2nd hand, and had served me for a good year after serving my flatmate for a couple of years before that. Doesn’t stop me being a monkey though. I miss it at work now, whenever my concentration would drop I’d put it on and listen to whatever was on the playlist for the day, and would be on the money fairly soon. The sound of the A/C seems louder now, almost drowning out my rumbling tummy.

As a final piece of worrying news, I’m increasingly suffering from road rage. Contrary to what most ppl think, driving in Colombo is a hoot. Never a dull moment with these trishaw buggers squeezing in from all over, competing with the car in the next lane as you both edge forward at the traffic light waiting to get ahead when the green comes on and of course avoiding pot holes and the mad buggers who jump into the middle of the road and grin. At which point you can’t help but grin back, shrug your shoulders, and keep driving. It’s life and death at the best of times but I can’t help but enjoy it. If I had to drive in some place like England I’d be lost, what with all the order, ridiculous. Sadly of late I think it’s been getting to me. I’ve been swearing to myself, putting the shutter down and gesticulating, giving mock kaney paras and generally being a bit of a chav.

The other day I had just left home and was driving down my road when thadang, hena noise like i’d been slapped by a saucepan. To see the car coming on the other lane had whacked my side mirror, which duely snapped onto my shutter. Thankfully the shutter was up bc it was hot, normally I avoid the A/C bc I spend the whole day in a A/C room so its nice to get some fresh air. Anyway after the initial 3 seconds of shock I looked back to see the other bugger had stopped about 30 yards down the road. I felt my blood boiling and I reversed all the way back. Now all the three wheel buggers on the road know me so they were up in arms running to the other car and making the person get down and generally looking rather menacing. Then an oldish woman steps out looking nervous as hell. My heart melts and I walk up to her and ask her if everything is ok and whether her car is damaged. Not a scratch it seems. I still dont know whose fault it was, and she didn’t seem to know what was going on so I said ok let’s leave it and we went off. It’s quite funny that the only two (touch wood, thuk thuk thuk) accidents I’ve had so far have been down my own road.

But yes, all this angst is I think due to the weather. Seriously the timing is awful. It’s nice and sunny all day, and then 5′ o clock when I’m out of work and driving home the clouds form like some army that is really peeved about something or the other. Then just when I get home and strap up the doggie for her walk the rain falls down in buckets. By around 6 when I’m ready to go for a swim gadugudas the thunder and lightning take over. The other day I was so desparate I went to the pool anyway. Within a few minutes the pool attendent comes looking like mother superior.

PA(MS): *clap* *clap*
Me: Moko aunty?
PA(MS): Pissuda oy?
Me: Aiyooo aunty…
PA(MS): eliyata enna, haiyo lamayo.

The lightning doesn’t allow me to watch the cricket either, not that it’s been flash (pun intended though it is bloody awful). I’ve been disappointed by the Champs trophy, not only bc SL is out but bc the standards of cricket have not been great. The matches have in general been one sided and plagued with really shoddy displays. For instance the West Indies batting against SL, Windies again tried their very best to lose to India despite having the match in the bag, Pakistan against SA, NZ against SL, SL against Pakistan, India in general. So many really ordinary matches, I guess the pitches and the dew haven’t helped, but it just seems everyone is lacklustre. But then it’s the Champion’s trophy and nobody really gives a shit do they? In other interesting cricket news Minki van der Westhuzian has been named cricket WAG of the year. w00t! Also not bad for Murali’s missus, beat a pop-star to second place. Excellent quote by the director of Stickcricket,

“Minki is a cricket fan’s dream woman. She’s sleek, sexy and with a successful career to boot. Cricketers attract a finer class of WAG. While football is a game for chaps copping off with Chavs, cricket is a game for gentlemen going out with goddesses.”

Quite right too. Yet another moment that I lament sacrificing a career in cricket for one as an economist. Buggeroo.

Sri Lanka probably got kicked out of the Champions Trophy last night, bad form. What pissed me off was reading the reactions of the press. The Daily Mirror screams out “Sri Lanka exposed in night of shame” The Island gives no analysis of substance. Both examples of pretty poor journalism. The Mirror deserves special comment, the article by Callistus Davy is one of the worst cases of knee-jerk, subjective, uninformed writing that I have ever read.

So last night the Saffers played some excellent cricket in the 2nd innings, Polly and Ntini bowled the perfect length and line to two in-form openers, completely choking them to force the errors. The ball seamed around more than we have ever seen throughout the tournament, it was more like a Headingly green top than a subcontinental slow turner. Our guys were just caught off-guard. For instance the ball that bowled Marvan, any player who knows where his off stump is in the sub-continent would leave that alone. Sure they should have adjusted to the conditions, but none of them (bar Tharanga) got a chance to adjust, they were dismissed before they even got going. Mahela gave us a sniff but when he got run out we couldn’t do much else. We just need to put our hand up and say we were done in by a team playing excellent cricket on a night where conditions were ideal for their attack, and in a format like the Champs trophy, every loss counts. I think our real mess up was against Pakistan, on that day we had the game in our hands and gave it away with the bat. That was a 275-300 wicket, and we fell short due to careless batting, nobody else to blame but us. That was just a bad day in the office, and I think we’re allowed that given how well the boys have played of late.

So all this nonsense about “night of shame” is totally uncalled for. It reminds me of UK tabloid journalism, and that’s a tag that few would aspire to. The team remains very solid, both on paper and in practice. Mahela’s captaincy record has been excellent, and our players have performed consistently throughout 2006. They remain a force for the World Cup. Losing one game to a team playing super cricket in conditions that suited them does not change any of this.

Let’s take a look at Davy’s article.

“Sri Lanka were disgraced and humiliated” No, losing to a side playing top notch cricket is not a disgrace or humiliation.

“..with no answer to the genuine pace of South Africa’s heavyweights” Polly, Nel, Kallis and Kemp bowl genuine pace? They bowled line and length and waited for the wicket to play tricks.

“There was no one who could have come in and broken the shackles” At 30-4 with the ball darting around like a hyperactive Chihuahua, I’d like to see who would dance down the track and loft Ntini over his head for 6. The best bet was to try and overcome the initial shock, consolidate until the dew came in and made bowling difficult.
Unfortunately we had lost too many wickets by then to do this.

“Sri Lanka had merely made up the numbers in the 10 nation tournament” If Australia loses to India and crashes out of the tournament this week, would they also be a team that just made up the numbers? Novice.

“Why skipper Jayawardena won the toss and chose to chase was hard to comprehend” Ok, I guess Davy has been watching everything but the cricket in this tournament. It’s a little something called dew. We rely on our spinners, with the dew our spinners would struggle. Did you watch the Pakistan game? My 10 year old nephew has a better understanding of the game than Callistus Davy.

I can’t believe they published that. The state of journalism in Sri Lanka is pretty sad in general, but this is a new low. The only good thing is I’m sure the players are used to this kind of knee jerk rabid reaction, and I hope they take no notice of it and just get on with their game. Losing the way we did yesterday was just part of the game, we didn’t play particularly bad cricket and South Africa played excellent cricket, there’s no shame in that. Well played Saffers.

The 20th of August 2006 will go down as the darkest day in test cricket since Bodyline. I was watching the 4th test between England and Pakistan at the Kennington Oval on the tv admist thunder and lightning in Colombo. About 45 mins after lunch umpire Darrel Hair took the ball from Umar Gul and had a conference with Billy Doctrove who strode in from Square Leg. The ball was changed, much to the confusion and annoyance of Inzamam since it had just begun to reverse swing for Gul. Kevin Pietersen went about choosing a new ball and Hair tapped his shoulder with his hand signalling 5 penalty runs against Pakistan. Umpire Hair had just ruled that Pakistan had tampered with the ball in an attempt to make it reverse swing. The game continued, Inzamam looked perplexed, everyone looked confused, and the replacement ball looked to be rubbish. Hair’s move threw Pakistan’s game plan and 60 overs worth of work on a ball down the drain and had for Ramiz Raja “Ruined the test match and series.” At this point the electricity at home went bust bc the lightning and I couldn’t watch the rest of the game, but when I got home from dinner was startled to see the match had been called off as the Pakistani’s had not come back to the field after tea. The umpires awarded the game to England, in accordance with the law, and refused to come back to the field once the Pakistani’s decided to eventually turn up to the ground.

There are several things that went wrong last afternoon, starting with Darrel Hair’s decision making process. Law 42.3 states the following;

(b) It is unfair for anyone to rub the ball on the ground for any
reason, interfere with any of the seams or the surface of the
ball, use any implement, or take any other action whatsoever
which is likely to alter the condition of the ball, except as
permitted in (a) above.
(c) The umpires shall make frequent and irregular inspections of
the ball.
(d) In the event of any fielder changing the condition of the ball
unfairly, as set out in (b) above, the umpires after consultation
shall
(i) change the ball forthwith. It shall be for the umpires to
decide on the replacement ball, which shall, in their
opinion, have had wear comparable with that which the
previous ball had received immediately prior to the
contravention.
(ii) inform the batsmen that the ball has been changed.
82
(iii) award 5 penalty runs to the batting side.

This is what happened. The umpire looked at the ball at the end of Gul’s over, he assumed that (d), and implemented (d) (i). In assuming (d) he ignored the possibility of wear and tear on the ball due to abrasion as a result of i) hitting boundary boards, ii) hitting the bat hard. The umpires last had possession of the ball during the lunch interval. Between lunch and the inspection of the ball there were 12 overs bowled between Umar Gul and Danish Kaneria. During this time there were 7 boundaries struck, mostly by Kevin Pietersen who hits the ball harder than most. There were also several aggressive strokes that didn’t reach the boundary. The chances of the ball being damaged due to the batting is far greater than what could have been done by fielders whilst hiding from camera’s (given the presence of 26 SKY cameras at the Oval, they would have to be very very subtle). Despite all these factors, Hair made up his mind that the ball must have been tampered with intentionally in an attempt to cheat by the Pakistani’s. There was no warning given to the players, no consultation, just a unilateral decision. Shahrayar Khan, the chairman of the PCB reiterated this fact; “”Nobody was consulted and nobody was told that something was wrong with the ball and they felt deeply aggrieved for the country and for the fans.” (Thanks to Cricinfo).

Umpires play a major role in the game, and it is important that their decisions are respected, which is why in cricket it is said that the umpire’s word is final. However it is also important to remember that umpires are not greater than the game, and more importantly they are not greater than the spirit of the game. An umpire’s decision is often subjective, and this is not a problem since a degree of subjectivity is essential in cricket, the human component is what makes the game what it is. But, when the umpire makes a subjective decision it is usually falsifiable. For instance if an umpire accuses of a bowler of throwing he is making a subjective decision, but the bowler’s action can be viewed on the television replays and one can make an objective decision regarding the legitimacy of the action. But in this case Hair’s decision is not falsifiable, and this is the key. There is no incident which he can point to, a la Atherton’s rubbing of sand on the ball caught on the TV, no evidence other than the condition of the ball. This is a huge assumption, and when this assumption implies that one team is cheating, the implications are huge, and therefore a great deal of care and sensitivity is needed when making decisions. Hair acted within the laws of the game, but his decision lacked any semblence of common sense, care and sensitivity. In sum, he handled the situation appallingly.

Inzamam failed to show the leadership required in that situation. The implication of Hair’s decision was that Pakistan had deliberately cheated. Inzamam carried on with the game with relatively little protest, and in doing so effectively accepted that his team had in fact deliberately cheated. I know for sure that Arjuna Ranatunga would have taken his team off the field and refused to play, and quite right too. If Hair had proof, then it’s a different matter. But making a subjective unfalsifiable decision puts Hair above the law, and that is not acceptable.

Hair could have done several things differently. He should have first warned Inzamam about the condition of the ball and made more regular checks. He could then have taken it up with the match referee after the days play and examined video footage for evidence of tampering by Pakistani players. Billy Doctrove, the other umpire is not above blame either. In complying with Hair’s decision he effectively concurs with how the situation was handled. He could easily have spoken a few words of common sense into Hair’s ear and dissolved what instead became one of the ugliest scenes in cricket’s history.

The laws too need to be reviewed. Law 42 allows such unilateral, unfalsifiable decisions to be made by umpires, and that needs to be changed to bring in some form of evidence based criteria. The match referee should have stepped in during tea time, spoken with the Pakistani players and umpires and come to some form of compromise before what happened after the tea interval transpired.

One may argue that the Pakistani’s let the crowds and their fans down by not playing the game. However there are certain things that are even greater than the game of cricket, and honour is one of them. Darrel Hair insulted the honour of the Pakistani team, and Pakistan as a country, and a game of cricket needs to take second place in such an instance.

Yesterday saw the end of what was the best test I’ve seen Sri Lanka involved in. Despite my complaints about The Oval in a previous post, the curator prepared a top notch test wicket having everything bar lateral movement, and even the crowd showed up! I couldn’t watch most of the game bc I was bumming around in unawatuna, but managed to catch the important parts, the 351 run chase in particular. Sri Lanka historically chases quite poorly at test level, and I didn’t really rate our chances chasing on Monday though I had some inner hope that we’d pull it off. When Boje got Sanath with a wicked wicked ball that spat off a length I didn’t expect our boys to survive a wicket misbehaving like that. But they batted exceedingly well from the word go, Sanath and Sanga followed by Mahela kept up the momentum with some very positive batting that never really let the Saffer bowlers dominate the proceedings as they should have done given the situation. That said, the wicket did play very well, there was spin and bounce but no lack of bounce which is the usual killer. But what stood out was the Sri Lankan approach. As Mahela said in a postmatch interview, had the guys tried to score at 2.5 to the over for 5 sessions we’d have been back in the hotel on day 4, with just a share of the series. Sanga’s assault on Steyn and Sanath’s assault on Polly effectively rendered those two ineffective for the rest of the innings, much like what happened to Saj Mahmood, Kabir Ali and that curly haired chap in the ODI’s against England.

Mahela was quite brilliant in the second innings, batting under pressure, holding the middle order together, talking to his parters all the time and really leading from the front. The way he kept cover driving Boje inside out for six throughout the series is just another manifestation of his massive talent, but what’s changed is his mental approach to the game, he’s now taking responsibility and applying himself better, allowing all that talent to add up to runs on the board. After Sanath and Sanga aggressively set up the innings the middle order let us down a bit with failures from Dilshan and Kapu. Dilshan’s test form is a bit of a worry, he too has undoubted talent, but needs to sort out the mental side of his game. The two Jayawardena’s then consolidated with an excellent stand that stretched into the final day with SL needing 90 with 5 in hand. At that time I’d have put money on us winning, but all the time there was a nagging worry that one wicket, specially Mahela, could be the breach that would let in the flood.

Prasanna fell early the next morning as Hall reverse swung the ball wholesale. I think Prince missed a trick by taking the new ball at that point. There’s nothing more difficult for tailenders to face than reverse swinging yorkers, and that was what Hall was dishing out. With Boje keeping it tight at the other end, it could have been very bad news for SL. Luckily Prince took the new ball and a lackluster Polly was thoroughly ineffective though Steyn created the odd flutter with some away swing. That allowed SL to claw their way back on top with Farveez and Mahela really digging in. Farveez is another interesting selection question. The guy is clearly very skilled, his batting has been proven to an extent with his performance at Lords earlier this year and his batting in this test. His bowling has fallen away a bit of late but I’m convinced that can be worked on bc he used to be really really good as soon as he started out. The boys went into lunch with SL well in the ascendency, requiring 19 to win with 4 in hand and two well set batsman at the wicket.

It’s here that South Africa deserves thorough respect. Without Ntini, without Polly at his best, they came back fighting. They say that Saffer teams never give up, and here they proved it. Bowling with strong leg side fields and Steyn bowling full and straight, they choked off the run supply. The first half hour saw just a handful of runs scored and Mahela tried to release the pressure by trying to loft Boje over cover for the nth time. For once he lost balance, nicked it, and Gibbs with his sleeves rolled up took a sharp one at slip. But all was ok, Vaasy was next in and he’s been more reliable than the top order in recent months. The Saffers continued to choke and Boje started to produce more alarming deliveries. With 4 to win Vaasy snicked one off Hall between 3rd slip and gully, it should have been 4 except for AB de Villiers’ left hand. Whenever players produce pieces of brilliance when it really really counts you know that there’s something special about them. I suspect de Villiers will go really far in this game, the guy seems to have that je ne sais quoi, it’s in his attitude, and he has skills to boot. Enter Murali, 4 to win. The first ball is outside off and he swats at it and hits thin air as the Saffer coach throws his arms up in the air in exasperation. I couldn’t decide whether Murali should have blocked or tried to finish it then and there. The second ball saw the same result, and the third made contact and squeezed past mid on for 2. 2 to win, last ball of the over. I kept telling Murali in my head to get behind the line and block and let Farveez take control at Boje’s end. Hall bowls one straight, Murali swings across the line and the stumps are all over the shop. I had a bottle of water in my hand which I smashed into the ground in dismay, Sanath screamed in exasperation in the balcony. We were pressing self destruct, it was Kandy 2000 all over again.

We had everything to lose, South Africa had everything to win. To draw a series at home against them would be like a loss to us, specially a South Africa missing Kallis and to a lesser extent Smith. Farveez had strike and was almost stumped by Boucher first ball but luckily clung on to his balance. I couldn’t bear it much more as my nails dug deep into the bed sheets. Boje ran in and threw it up, Maha whacked it down the ground and I jumped up in joy thinking it went all the way but it was just one. But we had tied the game and won the series, I relaxed a bit and watched as the game was set for its climax with Malinga on strike to Boje. SL needed one run, SA one wicket. Boje tossed it up again and Malinga on drove it to mid on and screamed off for a single as all of Sri Lanka erupted. We had successfully chased down the 6th highest ever 4th innings target, and that is one hell of an achievement for self destructers!

I love watching our team celebrate, at the moment there seems to be a great deal of unity in this team and everyone seems to share in the joys of the other. Watching Farveez punch the air and Malinga jumping all over the place gave me goosebumps. The presentation was also excellent, Mahela won man of the match bc without his effort we’d have never chased down 351 to win, and Murali got man of the series bc without his record 22 wickets we’d have never bowled SA out 4 times. But lots and lots of respect to SA, without their main strike bowler in the 4th innings they fought right down to the wire, not too many teams would have done that, and they almost pulled it off. I really felt for Prince as he wiped away a tear at the end of the game, but he really needn’t have been upset, his team played superbly, and he rightly said that he’s tremendously proud of them. This was test cricket at its very best. This is what the game is all about, a hard fight over 5 days, with players’ skills being tested to the limits both physically and mentally. This is why we don’t like cricket, we love it.