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| Sunday, 19 December 2004 |
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The day Mendis and Co. tamed the Englishmen by Nalin Fernando A Sri Lankan cricket fan recalls the day Sri Lanka cricketers held their own against England at Lord's in England. This article will appear in a book titled "Village Funerals are fun and other trivia" to be published and distributed early in January 2005. The following article appeared in the 'Ceylon Daily News' on January 27, 1984. It was 11.04 British Summer Time on Thursday, 23 August 1984. Jonathan Agnew hoofed down from the pavilion end and hurled the ball at Sidath Wettimuny who half raised his bat and looked over his left shoulder as the red spherical object whizzed past him to Paul Downtown behind the stumps. After the first engagement at the P. Sara Stadium in Colombo Sri Lanka was wedded inextricably to Test cricket at the holiest of holy shrines of willow and hide - Lord's. By the looks of the crowd at Lord's, it is a "quiet" wedding. Scanning the small crowd, I estimate the scattered brown faces in the crowd at not more than three hundred. The balance, with plenty of room for more, were English guests, who expected the proceedings to be a push over when David Gower won the toss and told us to face the music. They all went home with long faces, in silent commiseration with Gower and his henchmen, all experiencing a terrible summer. Three young men - Wettimuny, Dias and Ranatunga - massaged in their misery. They are, no doubt, the toast of every Sri Lankan in England except for a few jobless illicit immigrant bums who had the time today to look up and spit by invading the pitch and unfurling a flag just before the toss-up. When play began I shared the trepidation of all Sri Lankans who were later to applaud our splendid performance. Silva was walking back to the pavilion before I had reached the half way mark of my ha'pint of John Bull bitter, standing in front of the Lord's Tavern, as it should be done on this very first visit on mine to the historical venue of the game. Then followed Madugalle and there was a smile of satisfaction on the face of an M.C.C. gin and tonic standing beside me and sharing the play and intermittent conversation. At lunch, which was steak and kidney pie and not Pagoda pastry in a cardboard box, both the gin and tonic and I were certainly not sure where each of us stood. M.C.C. types don't talk too much with strangers and I don't know much about the game to either crow or cry. But as the afternoon wore on I began to cackle and it was not more gins that was making my spectator companion depressive. He was suffering from the fluency of Wettimuny and Ranatunga, showing up the English attack to be nothing more than cold mutton leftovers. It was evoking vociferous chants from the few browns in the stands and occasional cheers from the ranks of Tuscany. When light was offered to our batsmen thirty minutes before scheduled close of play, a lukewarm fan of the game such as I was ecstatic. I really felt like making an ass of myself and running on to the grounds to pat the batsman on their backs such was the feeling of euphoria created by watching us pupils showing up the guru at his own game in his own home. The M.C.C. gin and tonic and I were now friends. He seemed a gentleman, scholar and a connoisseur of Gordon's dry gin. He also had a dry sense of humour that was evident in his trite comments about the ineffectiveness of Agnew, Botham and Ellison, puffing and panting against us newcomers. As we parted our ways at St. John's Wood Road, I could not resist bowling him a googly. "Mr. Nigel Walters", I said, as that was his good name, "we hope to win this match. If you chaps don't even manage a draw, may I suggest that England next play Argentina at Lord's". A wry grin appeared in his face. He replied: "Nice one, Cyril." He had appreciated my crack and had acknowledged his positive reception of it using "in" lingo. Friday: I got delayed getting into Lord's after sleeping late following a celebration party with some jolly Sri Lankans in Hayes. By the time I got there Mendis was butchering Botham and some flannelled fools were chasing leather all over the field. My friend, Mr. Nigel Walters was not to be seen near or about the tavern where we were supposed to meet again. My deduction was that he, an Englishman of substance but with out an empirical bristly moustache, had saved himself the humiliation of telling his grand children that he had witnessed "live" the sun setting on English cricket style. There is no need for me to describe the contemptuous massacre of English sport and pride this afternoon. There were today over a thousand gleeful native loyalists cheering every crack heard when willow wielded by Wettimuny and Mendis hit hard leather. Strong voices, with no trace of rounded accent or kate pus style. I shouted out our perennial cricketing war cry in joyful unison -sinha machan, seru seru; gahapan, machan, boun'dry bound'ry. They seemed to be taking a rare uninhibited joy of rubbing stuffy faces in the wet grass. I left Lord's riding on cloud nine with a thousand or more others riding the same front seat. It did not matter whether we knew a yorker from an out swinger. Everyone, with heads held high seemed to gravitate to the entrance of the Tavern by the main gate to Lord's. And there I saw a strange sight. Sri Lankans abroad, usually wary of their fellows around them, were jollifying together and shouting "hello, machan at each other, dropping the prevailing caste system which separates Sri Lankans living in Old Blighty. Mendis and his Merry Men had knit together the expatriate community living here, at least, for the moment. I am writing this back at Hayes, in close proximity to Heathrow Airport, sorry to leave England tomorrow for the U.S. Phil and Tyrene, who "played" for Dehiwala and Kiribathgoda about ten years ago are having the neighbourhood natives for a string-hopper feed. Most of them are lukewarm cricket fans like me but our performance these two days has called for a rough Friday night. It is, I am sure, going to be a similar night among the Sri Lankan community from John O'Groats to Land's. |
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