Sports

All-expenses-paid incentive to woo Asia's best

Testing times for Sanga 

On  reflection, it’s just as well Sri Lanka parcelled up the ODI prize in the third of the five-match series. With the two remaining matches relegated to being of interest to only the historians, a whitewash of the Pakistanis was a reasonable prospect. After all, the home side’s invincible 3/0 lead had made so utterly obvious their superiority; the visitors’ deficiencies seemingly were too numerous to suggest the endings of the two final encounters would be different to those of the previous three.

Those deficiencies of the tourists have been dwelled upon through their every capitulation in the three-Test series, conceded 0/2, and the hasty surrender of ODI series. Suffice to say, the visitors’ inadequacies were believed to be in all departments of the game. For a team that had never conceded a Test or ODI series to Sri Lanka on the island’s shores, the reversal this time round was surprising as it was inexplicable.

The Pakistanis, of course, had a whole year of their international cricket programme wiped out by the bloody turbulences in the country. That period of inactivity no doubt is an impediment, but it was not as if they flew in from the cold and told ‘now play’. In the five months preceding the recently concluded six-week tour, they had competed with Sri Lanka in one Test in Karachi; the second in Lahore, though, was forsaken midway following an armed attack on the visitors’ bus. In both Tests (one and half to be precise) there was nothing of the disparity one saw five months later in the Sri Lanka-hosted series. The drawn series in Pakistan last February-March thus, seemed a fair reflection of the difference between the two countries: little or none at all.

That wasn’t the only international cricket either that Pakistan had experienced after a year of sedentary living. Last April they took on Australia in a five-match ODI series, and though defeated by the world champions, the margin of 2/3 showed their cricket machine is anything but rusty. And when they took the T20 world crown in June, it was fair to assume that the yearlong hibernation wouldn’t impair confidence for the Sri Lanka series.

Feeble excuse

As you know things didn’t quite pan out the way the visitors had expected. Some feeble reference was made to the long dormancy as reason for their sudden capitulation in the first Test in Galle. But when the second Test too was lost and then denied what seemed certain victory in the third Test, after which followed their premature surrender of the ODI series, the reasons advanced for the visitors’ failures ranged from the sublime to the ridiculous: Faulty technique of the batting specialists/ a fractious dressing room / immature leadership and/ suspicions that bookies might be behind the Pakistani losses, an allegation which an ICC investigation found to be untrue.

As the defeats came without respite, it was a case of rummaging the old cupboard for new excuses. But much like the tale of grandma looking for the spectacles residing on her forehead, the truth about the Pakistanis’ failures was closer home – not in faulty techniques, divisions in the team or conspired by the bookies. It was simply in their inability to secure one win. Twice they were within grasp of that elusive win, and twice, squandered the chances. All they had to score in the Galle Test was 90-odd with eight second innings wickets in tact, but disintegrated for 40-odd on the fourth morning.

Victory came within grasp in the third ODI too in the wake of posting a ground record of 288 at the R.Premadasa stadium in the third encounter. That record didn’t endure even the night it was made, as openers Jayawardene and Thranga capitalized on the visitors’ defensive methods to win in the 47th over.

Transformation

Pakistan finally managed to break the duck in the fourth ODI, and though that win would make no difference to the outcome of the series, it brought about a vivid transformation. Clearly, they became the Pakistan team we know and have learnt to respect: arrogant and uncompromising once the opposition was in their grip. In the third ODI they let slip the chance to post a total in excess of 300 – and so lost.

In the next game, though, they ensured the chance wouldn’t slip and made 321– and consequently won hugely, by 176 runs. In the fifth and final encounter, Monday night, a chance to make in excess of 300 was allowed to slip, but having rediscovered their winning ways they were not about to allow defeat to visit them again, as happened in the third ODI. They won again hugely, by 132 runs. Those margins were a lot larger than any of the three margins we won by.

The most compelling evidence that their Test and ODI series losses was perhaps an elongated aberration, and not because they were an inferior outfit critics made them out to be, was provided in the one-off T20, Wednesday night. This was a display of crushing superiority that killed off the home team’s chances long before the end – despite being hit by a first-ball reversal. Eventually, they made 179, which proved 52 runs too much for Sangakkara’s men to overhaul.

Whatever they might’ve been reduced to during five of their six-week stay here, in the final days they bossed around as if they owned the place, just as they had done in all of their five previous visits, 1986-2005.

It might be uncharitable to suggest that Sangakkara’s men may have felt a sense of cold comfort that the Pakistanis had not struck winning form sooner than they did. Because when they did, they were an unstoppable juggernaut; only the partisan will say we would yet have won the ODI series had we not clinched it in the third encounter. The comprehensive manner in which the Pakistanis won the T20 gives a different interpretation to that hypothesis. It would be unfair, though, to disregard the inconsequentiality of the two final ODIs prompting the home team to test their bench strength at the expense of ‘regulars’ – which meant they were not represented by their strongest combination; Muralidaran, for instance, didn’t figure in both of the final encounters. But to have conceded both games by margins reminiscent of those conceded in our early years as a Test nation says the team is some distance away from being perfect.

The rosy future raised by the early successes under Sangakkara’s fledgling leadership needs to be reviewed. The three successive defeats at the hands of Pakistan say the problems that were thought to have been resolved in the early sweep of victories pretty much remains yet. Specifically, in our batting; the risky dependence on elders, Sangakkara and Jayawardene, and Jayasuriya, in the ODIs, hasn’t ceased.

Only once in six Test innings did Sri Lanka manage to surpass 300, thanks mostly to the skipper’s match-saving century, the only by a Sri Lankan in the series. Pakistan had three centurions and three times posted 300-plus totals and once 299. Why this Pakistani superiority didn’t translate to at least one win was because that they also managed to post the series’ two lowest totals: 117 in the second innings at Galle and 90 in the first innings of the second Test – both of which caused the defeats.

Back to square one

It’s not always Sri Lanka’s seniors succeeded, and when they didn’t, the young and inexperienced middle order didn’t quite have the mettle to off-set the failures of the seniors, bar Mathews in the Tests; Kapugedera succeeded only in the second ODI. The bottom line: the days of dependence on the seniors aren’t over. In other words we’re back to square one.

It should not be forgotten, however, that Sangakkara’s team is a transitional one and so, is still in the making. The beginning has been encouraging. But whether the promise of a rapid blossoming held out by achievements in the T20 World Cup and victories in the recent series against Pakistan has been stifled by three successive defeats in six days will be revealed when a two-Test series v. New Zealand begins on Tuesday at Galle. In the flush of victories, Sangakkara warned of the bad times that will come surely at some point. It did last week, and there was little evidence of their capabilities to arrest the slide. Three defeats in a row is cause for serious concern.

A home series against New Zealand is, as always, less harsh a prospect than when entertaining Pakistan. But the events over the last week might have dented confidence for the Kiwi series – or would it have strengthened their determination? Sangakkara’s lea- dership faces its first real test.

Duo dumps CR, returns to Kandy

By Hafiz Marikar 

Kandy Sports Club's two top center-three-quarters, who left the club and joined CR & FC, have made a U turn to their former club. Both were seen at practices last week.

Chamara Vithanage and Mohamed Jabar, two good products of Kingswood College, played for Kandy SC first. Chamara Played for years and was in line for the club captaincy, and he was also picked to lead the country at sevens, two years back, but had to be on the sidelines due to a suspension forced on him.

It was alleged that he had assaulted a match official at a school match. Due to this he lost nearly two years of rugby and Kandy SC fought in a big way to lift the suspension. As  it was lifted he crossed over to CR & FC and was in and out of the side in the 2009 league competition. Mohamed Jabar, too played for the Nitawella club and crossed over to CR & FC two seasons back and he too has now come back to his former club and are expected to play in the Clifford Cup knockouts.

With these two players and some schoolboy faces, the side will look better in the Clifford Cup competition.

Testing times for Sanga 

On  reflection, it’s just as well Sri Lanka parcelled up the ODI prize in the third of the five-match series. With the two remaining matches relegated to being of interest to only the historians, a whitewash of the Pakistanis was a reasonable prospect. After all, the home side’s invincible 3/0 lead had made so utterly obvious their superiority; the visitors’ deficiencies seemingly were too numerous to suggest the endings of the two final encounters would be different to those of the previous three.

Those deficiencies of the tourists have been dwelled upon through their every capitulation in the three-Test series, conceded 0/2, and the hasty surrender of ODI series. Suffice to say, the visitors’ inadequacies were believed to be in all departments of the game. For a team that had never conceded a Test or ODI series to Sri Lanka on the island’s shores, the reversal this time round was surprising as it was inexplicable.

The Pakistanis, of course, had a whole year of their international cricket programme wiped out by the bloody turbulences in the country. That period of inactivity no doubt is an impediment, but it was not as if they flew in from the cold and told ‘now play’. In the five months preceding the recently concluded six-week tour, they had competed with Sri Lanka in one Test in Karachi; the second in Lahore, though, was forsaken midway following an armed attack on the visitors’ bus. In both Tests (one and half to be precise) there was nothing of the disparity one saw five months later in the Sri Lanka-hosted series. The drawn series in Pakistan last February-March thus, seemed a fair reflection of the difference between the two countries: little or none at all.

That wasn’t the only international cricket either that Pakistan had experienced after a year of sedentary living. Last April they took on Australia in a five-match ODI series, and though defeated by the world champions, the margin of 2/3 showed their cricket machine is anything but rusty. And when they took the T20 world crown in June, it was fair to assume that the yearlong hibernation wouldn’t impair confidence for the Sri Lanka series.

Feeble excuse

As you know things didn’t quite pan out the way the visitors had expected. Some feeble reference was made to the long dormancy as reason for their sudden capitulation in the first Test in Galle. But when the second Test too was lost and then denied what seemed certain victory in the third Test, after which followed their premature surrender of the ODI series, the reasons advanced for the visitors’ failures ranged from the sublime to the ridiculous: Faulty technique of the batting specialists/ a fractious dressing room / immature leadership and/ suspicions that bookies might be behind the Pakistani losses, an allegation which an ICC investigation found to be untrue.

As the defeats came without respite, it was a case of rummaging the old cupboard for new excuses. But much like the tale of grandma looking for the spectacles residing on her forehead, the truth about the Pakistanis’ failures was closer home – not in faulty techniques, divisions in the team or conspired by the bookies. It was simply in their inability to secure one win. Twice they were within grasp of that elusive win, and twice, squandered the chances. All they had to score in the Galle Test was 90-odd with eight second innings wickets in tact, but disintegrated for 40-odd on the fourth morning.

Victory came within grasp in the third ODI too in the wake of posting a ground record of 288 at the R.Premadasa stadium in the third encounter. That record didn’t endure even the night it was made, as openers Jayawardene and Thranga capitalized on the visitors’ defensive methods to win in the 47th over.

Transformation

Pakistan finally managed to break the duck in the fourth ODI, and though that win would make no difference to the outcome of the series, it brought about a vivid transformation. Clearly, they became the Pakistan team we know and have learnt to respect: arrogant and uncompromising once the opposition was in their grip. In the third ODI they let slip the chance to post a total in excess of 300 – and so lost.

In the next game, though, they ensured the chance wouldn’t slip and made 321– and consequently won hugely, by 176 runs. In the fifth and final encounter, Monday night, a chance to make in excess of 300 was allowed to slip, but having rediscovered their winning ways they were not about to allow defeat to visit them again, as happened in the third ODI. They won again hugely, by 132 runs. Those margins were a lot larger than any of the three margins we won by.

The most compelling evidence that their Test and ODI series losses was perhaps an elongated aberration, and not because they were an inferior outfit critics made them out to be, was provided in the one-off T20, Wednesday night. This was a display of crushing superiority that killed off the home team’s chances long before the end – despite being hit by a first-ball reversal. Eventually, they made 179, which proved 52 runs too much for Sangakkara’s men to overhaul.

Whatever they might’ve been reduced to during five of their six-week stay here, in the final days they bossed around as if they owned the place, just as they had done in all of their five previous visits, 1986-2005.

It might be uncharitable to suggest that Sangakkara’s men may have felt a sense of cold comfort that the Pakistanis had not struck winning form sooner than they did. Because when they did, they were an unstoppable juggernaut; only the partisan will say we would yet have won the ODI series had we not clinched it in the third encounter. The comprehensive manner in which the Pakistanis won the T20 gives a different interpretation to that hypothesis. It would be unfair, though, to disregard the inconsequentiality of the two final ODIs prompting the home team to test their bench strength at the expense of ‘regulars’ – which meant they were not represented by their strongest combination; Muralidaran, for instance, didn’t figure in both of the final encounters. But to have conceded both games by margins reminiscent of those conceded in our early years as a Test nation says the team is some distance away from being perfect.

The rosy future raised by the early successes under Sangakkara’s fledgling leadership needs to be reviewed. The three successive defeats at the hands of Pakistan say the problems that were thought to have been resolved in the early sweep of victories pretty much remains yet. Specifically, in our batting; the risky dependence on elders, Sangakkara and Jayawardene, and Jayasuriya, in the ODIs, hasn’t ceased.

Only once in six Test innings did Sri Lanka manage to surpass 300, thanks mostly to the skipper’s match-saving century, the only by a Sri Lankan in the series. Pakistan had three centurions and three times posted 300-plus totals and once 299. Why this Pakistani superiority didn’t translate to at least one win was because that they also managed to post the series’ two lowest totals: 117 in the second innings at Galle and 90 in the first innings of the second Test – both of which caused the defeats.

Back to square one

It’s not always Sri Lanka’s seniors succeeded, and when they didn’t, the young and inexperienced middle order didn’t quite have the mettle to off-set the failures of the seniors, bar Mathews in the Tests; Kapugedera succeeded only in the second ODI. The bottom line: the days of dependence on the seniors aren’t over. In other words we’re back to square one.

It should not be forgotten, however, that Sangakkara’s team is a transitional one and so, is still in the making. The beginning has been encouraging. But whether the promise of a rapid blossoming held out by achievements in the T20 World Cup and victories in the recent series against Pakistan has been stifled by three successive defeats in six days will be revealed when a two-Test series v. New Zealand begins on Tuesday at Galle. In the flush of victories, Sangakkara warned of the bad times that will come surely at some point. It did last week, and there was little evidence of their capabilities to arrest the slide. Three defeats in a row is cause for serious concern.

A home series against New Zealand is, as always, less harsh a prospect than when entertaining Pakistan. But the events over the last week might have dented confidence for the Kiwi series – or would it have strengthened their determination? Sangakkara’s lea- dership faces its first real test.

Pandemonium at the Premadasa 

By Shruthi Mathews 

As most of you know, Sri Lanka lost to Pakistan at the 20-20 match which took place last Wednesday at the R. Premadasa Stadium in Khettarama. Laments about performance and dips in our cricketing prowess are a standard post-defeat procedure which help hard-core fans grieve (and the less-informed sound fashionably knowledgeable), but after this particular match, complaints about our loss were secondary to those regarding the lack of organisation of the event itself.

I wouldn’t consider myself a hard-core cricket fan in any way, but, like a lot of people, I enjoy going to matches because of the exciting and fun atmosphere they generate, as opposed to out of a pure love for the game. I’m not saying everyone in the crowd is out for a party, but let’s be honest, the vast majority are. I’ve been to many cricket matches before in a variety of countries, yet, to quote a good friend, this was definitely one of the worst. Not because we lost, but because of what I can only assume was a result of incompetent planning and clumsy crowd control which led to a most unpleasant experience.

Getting in and out of the stadium was a mess, to say the least. The normal crowds that are symptomatic of any large or popular event evolved from being simply a standard crowd into a violent stampede, and policeman brandishing wooden sticks did nothing to ease the hoards of ticket less men attempting to push their way in. It was impossible for people who did actually have tickets to get in without first going through the rabble that largely consisted of drunk, aggressive men. Getting in involved being sandwiched between them, and despite their apparent desperation to get inside the stadium they still found the time to grope and sexually harass any woman within their vicinity.

Pandemonium continued to reign even once we entered the area where our seats were meant to be. However, there were blatantly more spectators than seats – meaning that tickets were either oversold or a large quantity of people managed to get inside for free - and despite having paid Rs.1500 for our tickets there was nowhere to sit but on the floor.

Sri Lankans have become so accustomed to bad organisation and brazen sexual harassment that complaining about it as far as most people go, and such matters are generally swept away as petty inconveniences that are our lot to endure.

They really shouldn’t be.

I don’t think it is unreasonable to want to go to a cricket match and not have to endure the groping hands of drunk men or wonder if you are going to get out of a stampeding crowd unharmed, and while it’s not easy to place controls on the levels of perversion, they could have surely been lessened by better organisation and order enforcement.

Pandemonium at the Premadasa 

By Shruthi Mathews 

As most of you know, Sri Lanka lost to Pakistan at the 20-20 match which took place last Wednesday at the R. Premadasa Stadium in Khettarama. Laments about performance and dips in our cricketing prowess are a standard post-defeat procedure which help hard-core fans grieve (and the less-informed sound fashionably knowledgeable), but after this particular match, complaints about our loss were secondary to those regarding the lack of organisation of the event itself.

I wouldn’t consider myself a hard-core cricket fan in any way, but, like a lot of people, I enjoy going to matches because of the exciting and fun atmosphere they generate, as opposed to out of a pure love for the game. I’m not saying everyone in the crowd is out for a party, but let’s be honest, the vast majority are. I’ve been to many cricket matches before in a variety of countries, yet, to quote a good friend, this was definitely one of the worst. Not because we lost, but because of what I can only assume was a result of incompetent planning and clumsy crowd control which led to a most unpleasant experience.

Getting in and out of the stadium was a mess, to say the least. The normal crowds that are symptomatic of any large or popular event evolved from being simply a standard crowd into a violent stampede, and policeman brandishing wooden sticks did nothing to ease the hoards of ticket less men attempting to push their way in. It was impossible for people who did actually have tickets to get in without first going through the rabble that largely consisted of drunk, aggressive men. Getting in involved being sandwiched between them, and despite their apparent desperation to get inside the stadium they still found the time to grope and sexually harass any woman within their vicinity.

Pandemonium continued to reign even once we entered the area where our seats were meant to be. However, there were blatantly more spectators than seats – meaning that tickets were either oversold or a large quantity of people managed to get inside for free - and despite having paid Rs.1500 for our tickets there was nowhere to sit but on the floor.

Sri Lankans have become so accustomed to bad organisation and brazen sexual harassment that complaining about it as far as most people go, and such matters are generally swept away as petty inconveniences that are our lot to endure.

They really shouldn’t be.

I don’t think it is unreasonable to want to go to a cricket match and not have to endure the groping hands of drunk men or wonder if you are going to get out of a stampeding crowd unharmed, and while it’s not easy to place controls on the levels of perversion, they could have surely been lessened by better organisation and order enforcement.