The one that got away – Thusith Wijedoru
Thusith Wijedoru is a freelance sports photographer, attached to the Sri Lanka Cricket Board.
Having cut his photographic teeth as a schoolboy on the ‘concrete jungle’ architecture of Hong Kong, he returned to Sri Lanka to work for a series of TV advertising production houses. He got back into still photography after the 2004 tsunami, picked up consultancy work for magazines, and on assignment met the lauded rugby commentator Chandrishan Perera and, on spec, asked how one might get started photographing sport.
After sending himself independently to the 2009 Champions Trophy tournament in South Africa, Wijedoru has subsequently worked for the ICC both in Sri Lanka and the UAE, and followed the Sri Lankan team on numerous tours to England, South Africa, Australia and New Zealand. In that time, he’s had his cameras lost by baggage handlers during a World Cup, had one laptop blown out mid-match by Bangladeshi storms, and lost another to a massive six from Alex Hales.
His image of Malinga’s trademark kissing of the ball – ‘the calm before the storm’ – featured on the ICC’s 2012 T20 World Cup hoardings, and he was one of the original contributors to the Sri Lanka Cricket official Facebook page, which now has almost 3m followers.
The one that got away
‘It’s August 2014: Mahela and Sanga, record-breaking partners, their last time, in national attire, playing for their country, in a test match, together, on local soil. I was there when they went out, the dynamic duo walking down from the SSC dressing room, after the lunch break, I think – and I stood on the boundary rope, facing the tunnel, and got some great black-and-white pictures.
Mahela was out about two overs later, if I remember (we’re so focussed on the visual details sometimes we have to use the scoreboard just to figure out where we are in the game), and I wanted to get him walking off the pitch, for the final time in a test match, all the supporters and the players in the background.
A lot of what you do is spur-of-the-moment, and I always say you gotta “expect the unexpected”. But you also know the things you need to shoot – like when Murali’s approaching his 800th wicket, for instance.
So, I was just to the left of the tunnel, in front of the billboards, shooting him acknowledging the crowd, and then suddenly there’s a damn Army security guard there, and he won’t let me cross into the tunnel itself. Just wouldn’t let me pass, even though I’m waving my Sri Lanka Cricket accreditation at him, going “Look! Look!!” I mean, he’s there with a gun and all, so I’m not going to argue with him.
I have Percy waving the flag when we beat the Australians in Galle. I have Sanga’s century at Lord’s. I have Malinga kissing the ball (probably he’s not allowed to do that now!). I have Dilshan bowing to the crowd at his last ODI in Dambulla. But that was a major missed opportunity. A cricketer can take a catch – or drop a catch – or hit a six, or get run out, anytime. But Mahela finishing his final test innings…!? [He groans.] For me, that piece of history went undocumented.
The shot that he got
‘When it comes to World Cups, all that “love thy neighbour” stuff goes right out the window. We’d lost to India in the final in 2011; so when we beat them in the T20 World Cup, in 2014, we had a freakin’ parade! I was in Hong Kong on other commitments, but I flew back just to cover it. It would have been suicide not to.
I was with the team all the way from the airport to Galle Face. One o’clock ’til about nine-thirty in the night! Just as we were entering Colombo, around Dematagoda, the bus had to stop because the streets were just so full of people, and I got down to take some photos of the crowd – and the bus took off! So there I am, running behind the bus, with two cameras: I couldn’t make it. So I flagged down a motorcycle – the only guy in the entire traffic jam who wasn’t there for the procession – and shouted “Follow that bus!” Now I’m on the back, shooting left and right, and this is one of those photographs.
It’s not my favourite sporting picture; but it’s an important aspect of our sporting history. Cricket here is a religion, one of the few things that unites this country. And that’s one thing about us Sri Lankans. I would class us – like the ad says – as probably the best fans in the world. We are colourful, our flag is colourful. The music, the papare bands. That is us, that is our Sri Lankan identity, which is unique. Cricket is not a game you watch over a cup of tea any more. We’re very vocal, and visually supportive of our team. It’s emotional. And I have more than ten years of this history. See? [He sticks his arm out.] Goosebumps!’