Today marks the 30th anniversary of Sri Lanka’s unforgettable World Cup triumph. Ask any Sri Lankan where they were on the 17th March 1996 and chances are they will recall it in vivid detail. It was a red-letter day for a small island nation that punched above its weight, became world champions and changed the course of its cricket forever.
It had been a crazy, turbulent month. The Central Bank bombing had shaken the country to its core, crippling the economy and casting a shadow over the tournament. Australia and the West Indies refused to travel to Colombo, forfeiting their games amid security fears. Yet capable hands steadied the ship. Foreign Minister Lakshman Kadirgamar and cricket board president Ana Punchihewa ensured the show went on, steering the nation through stormy waters.
Adversity, as it often does, forged resolve. The troubled times brought the country together and the team responded by playing the brand of cricket that would become their trademark; fearless, inventive and unapologetically bold. Sri Lanka went through the tournament unbeaten, finding a man for every crisis and a solution for every problem.
The signs had been there from 1994 onwards. Sri Lanka were knocking on the door, threatening to do something special, and when the big stage arrived, they did not merely walk through it, they kicked the door down.
Three years earlier, Sir Garry Sobers had been asked who might break his world record of 365 in a Test innings. The great West Indian reckoned the race was between Brian Lara, Sachin Tendulkar and Aravinda de Silva. Aravinda never quite threatened that particular milestone, but what he did in Lahore remains etched in cricketing folklore. His majestic century in the final, steering a tense run chase with the composure of a grandmaster, remains one of the finest innings played under pressure. Kumar Sangakkara may have better numbers, but for many Sri Lankans Aravinda remains the darling of their cricketing hearts. Travel anywhere in the cricketing world, India, Pakistan, New Zealand or the West Indies and once people learn you are from Sri Lanka, the inevitable question follows: “What is Aravinda doing these days?”
Then there was Sanath Jayasuriya, the man who turned the Powerplay into a demolition derby. Bowlers barely had time to loosen their shoulders before the ball was disappearing over midwicket. His whirlwind starts tore attacks to shreds and rewrote the playbook of one-day cricket. Such was his impact that England captain Michael Atherton famously suggested the ICC should intervene and rethink the playing conditions. Jayasuriya had simply taken the first 15 overs away from them, lock, stock and barrel. Limited-overs cricket has never quite been the same since.
At the helm was Arjuna Ranatunga, a captain cut from rare cloth. Leadership, after all, is not just about calling the shots on the field but about standing by your men when the chips are down. Ranatunga literally opened the doors of his house to more than half a dozen members of that World Cup squad, treating them like family and backing them through thick and thin. Like Allan Border, Clive Lloyd and Imran Khan before him, Arjuna was a leader of men whose tactical acumen and fighting spirit sometimes overshadowed his considerable contributions with the bat.
Every great side also has its unsung heroes. Asanka Gurusinha was one of them. Naturally an aggressive striker of the ball, he curbed his instincts and played the anchor role, allowing the stroke-makers around him to cut loose. That willingness to put the team before personal glory summed up the camaraderie and collective spirit that defined the side.
The World Cup win did more than fill trophy cabinets , it changed the game at home. Cricket in Sri Lanka turned professional almost overnight. Players who once juggled day jobs with the demands of international sport found themselves with central contracts and proper match fees. Schools across the island embraced the game and its popularity soared, inspiring a new generation to pick up bat and ball.
Some argue that Sri Lanka later rested on their laurels. While other nations took a leaf out of our book and modernised their cricket structures, we were slow to move with the times. There may be some truth in that argument.
But what is also true is that players of the calibre of Arjuna, Sanath and Muttiah Muralitharan come along perhaps once in half a century. And as for Aravinda, well, there won’t be another like him, not in our lifetimes.
by Rex Clementine
from The Island https://ift.tt/bIpB6gR
No comments:
Post a Comment