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The
soul of sport with a smack of war Watch the behaviour
of bowlers who take wickets or strikers who kick goals,their clenched
fists are followed by shrieks and howls from team members, bowlers
somersault and jump over the wickets and strikers remove their jerseys
and dash madly across the pitch jumping on the backs of fellow players.
The image is
of savage triumph over the killing of an enemy, a battlefield victory.
Ball games are said to carry a trace of racial memory when savages
hunted the heads of the enemy tribe and then kicked the skulls around
in celebration. The All Blacks routinely perform their intimidating
Maori haka before their game -a symbol of psychological warfare.
The Indian
betting industry, who work overtime on the sidelines of cricket,
make a packet. For example, this year 's India-England Test Series
generated over 4 billion Indian rupees. The ICC Champions
Trophy played in Colombo generated a turnover of Sri Lankan Rs.
100 billion, reported an Indian newspaper. Such benefits
are by no means extravagent ,that accrue to a country through bat
and ball. Cricket produces macro economic dividends. Who would want
to question the positive value of the staggering 2.42 billion Srilankan
rupees that the ICC Champions Trophy pumped into an ailing economy
through the presence in Colombo of the world's best 12 cricket teams
and their officials, TV crews and spectators? ICC Chief Executive
Michael Speed spelt out the benefits as 10,000 nights in accommodation
and BCCSL Chairman Hemaka Amarasuriya claimed that the event filled
up all the five-star hotels in Colombo. This is just what the doctor
ordered to boost our tourism industry in the aftermath of the Tiger
attack on the Katunayake Airport. The winners
of the ICC Champions Trophy (both Sri Lanka and India because of
rain) received a mind-boggling US $ 690,000, ( Sri Lankan Rupees
65 million). The winners of the semi-finals: received US $ 125,000
while the winners of each pool game pocketed US $ 50,000. In addition,
the ICC also paid each country US $ 165,000 as a participating fee.
Sport is a money-spinner. Sledging, nasty
tactics, and contesting an umpire's decision if not verbally by
gestures such as throwing the bat on the green in anger go against
the grain of the game. The sleaze factor, match-fixing, ambush marketing,
ball tampering and preparing the wicket to suit the home team -also
produce a corrosive effect on the spirit of sport. At the international
level, sport is nothing short of international warfare, as cavalry
commander Nathan Bedford Forrest of American Civil War fame said
in the early 19th century, "Jorrocks saw in foxhunting the
image of war without its guilt. Modern sport and the passions surrounding
it arouse emotions similar to those aroused by war." When Russia
lost to Japan at the Yokohama Stadium in the FIFA World Cup, 2002,
drunken soccer fans watching the battle on a giant outdoor screen
outside the Kremlin killed a man, stabbed a policeman and hurt over
a hundred people. Hooligans smashed shop windows, looted boutiques,
attacked Japanese restaurants and Japanese students, and overturned
Japanese cars. The belligerent
behaviour of players is one thing, that of bellicose spectators
who work themselves into a frenzy with their faces and skin-heads
painted with flags is another. The scenes at Calcutta's Eden (also
known as the Paradise garden in which God placed Adam) Park during
the World Cup in 1996, when the Sri Lankan team led by Arjuna Ranatunga
made history, are a case in point. So are the savage scenes of spectator
hooliganism and mayhem at football internationals. Streaking not
only by men but also by women and also stabbing in the neck and
shooting in the leg have become ridiculous features of barbaric
spectator behaviour. As if such
behaviour were not enough to take away from the soul and innocence
of sport. Sports reporters craft their headlines in languages that
take away the true spirit of sport. Win and lose (not whether you
won or lost...) are insufficient monosyllables to announce the result
of a contest, whatever the game. At the ICC
Champions Trophy , the results had to be reported under headline
metaphors that screamed militantly: 'Lions maul kangaroos,' Do-or-die
battle for hosts Sri Lanka ', 'Bangladesh thrashed by nine wickets'
, 'McGrath polishes Kiwis off ', 'England face defeat as India press
on, Tresco thick guides England to stunning victory' , 'India blitz
England to enter semis' and 'Dillon turns villain as Proteas nail
Windies'. The same is true of reports of other matches from all over the world. Examples: 'Kumble kills off England as Indian level series' (Leeds), 'India celebrate as Kaif stuns England' (London), 'Jayasuriya hits quickfire 100 after early Gough wicket' (Headingley), ' Muralitharan finds ruthless touch with 5 wicket haul' (Colombo), These colourful expressions smack of war, not sport.Matches are not matches any more but clashes. Runs are not scored, but slammed as in 'Aravinda slams double hundred' The metaphors are derived from warfare, which is what sport has become - imimic warfare. There is a relationship between modern sport and war, fierce passions are ignited by both. Laugh
Zone The director
says, "This is the most important part, and it has only one
line. You must walk on to the stage carrying a rose, hold the rose
with just one finger and your thumb to your nose, sniff the rose
deeply and then say the line: 'Ah, the sweet aroma of my mistress.'" The actor is
thrilled. All day long before the play he's practising his line
over and over again. Finally the time came. The curtain went up,
the actor walked onto the stage and with great passion delivered
the line, "Ah, the sweet aroma of my mistress." The theater
erupted, the audience was screaming with laughter, and the director
was screaming. "You bloody fool!" he cried. "You
have ruined me!" The actor was
bewildered. "What happened, did I forget my line?" he
asked. "No!" the director screamed. "You forgot the
bloody rose!" Father O'Grady The priest
says, "Oh, Mary, that's terrible. Tell me, Mary, did he have
any last requests?" She says, "That
he did, Father..." The priest says, "What did he ask,
Mary?" She says, "He
said, 'Please Mary, put down that damn gun...' Funny clips These are "actual"
clippings from church newspapers It's amazing
what proofreading would prevent:
Balangoda
crafts on sale "The girls
who come to the convent from the surrounding villages produce these
items. It's by selling them that they earn their living," explains
Dushyanthi Wijewardene, the enthusiastic organiser of the sale.
Usually the items produced are sold through Salu Sala and other
shops, while some are sold at sales organised by St. Bridget's Convent.
The tablecloths with exquisite work were evidence that much effort,
combined with talent, had gone into each piece. While tablecloths,
serviettes, dusters, table mats and jug covers make up the items
"The girls
produce all the material by themselves," says Ms. Wijewardene,
referring to the weaving, exquisite crochet, and embroidery work.Hardanger,
a technique similar to drawn thread, is used for the clothes items.
"Back
in the good old days, thanks to the lateCyril Gardiner, the Chairman
of the Galle Face Hotel, the sales were held free of charge, in
these premises. Now, years later, the hotel still lends its hand
to this worthy cause, with the support of his son and present Chairman,
Sanjiv Gardiner," Ms. Wijewardene said. The Balangoda Sale will be held on the verandah of the Galle Face Hotel on October 26 from 10 a.m. to 5p.m. The
D.S. we'd liked to have known Certainly,
young Stephen did not follow the scholarly path of older brother
Fredrick (FR) that led the latter to Cambridge University and subsequently
to the Bar. Neither did the sophisticated administrative offices
situated at Kanatte Road, Colombo (as known then) where oldest brother
Charles (D.C. Senanayake) managed the family estates and plumbago
mines hold much appeal. Stephen's approach
to things was more "hands on", and he was happiest working
in the deep mines of Botale or engaging in one of his numerous agricultural
endeavours in the vast acres of Babilaptaya, Botale or Koul wewa.
This was perhaps how DS was able to inspire, the simple farming
community to find new agricultural settlements in areas known to
be inhospitable wastelands. The settlements that stand at Minneriya,
Padaviya and Gal Oya, just to mention a few of his settlements tell
us much of his achievements in a relatively short space of time.
For agriculture, he knew, had a life long love for, experimented
with, developed an obsessive passion for, and almost always mastered
it. His grandson
Ranjit fondly recalls the numerous instances when he and his older
brother Devinda were lifted up in the air by their grandfather and
bundled into the bullock cart and whereupon they were taken through
a lengthy excursion in the family estates, and made to experience
the not entirely favourable taste of freshly drawn milk of one of
the cows. The remainder of that bullock cart journey resulted in
both boys being physically sick throughout the bumpy ride back,
and grand dad the carter, being somewhat amused. DS, as a young
man was reputed for his extraordinary physical strength. Standing
six feet and two inches, dark complexioned, ruggedly handsome and
extremely energetic, he was the youngest son of Mudaliyar Don Spater
Senanayake and his wife Catherine Elizabeth Senanayake. His formative
years were in the village of Botale in Ambepussa, under the watchful
eyes of the old Mudaliyar who was a shrewd and sharp businessman.
His mother was a deeply religious woman, who encouraged DS in all
his agricultural endeavours. Apart from his parents, one can easily
infer that his older brother FR had a great influence on his life.
After the temperance movement was founded by their father and the
active role played by older brother FR which resulted in the incarceration
of all three brothers on false allegations of involvement in the
Muslim-Sinhala riots of 1915, DS himself began to take an interest
in public life. The execution
of Henry Pedris by British officers left a deep impression on the
Senanayake brothers and strengthened their resolve to carry out
the struggle for independence. Leadership was left in the capable
hands of F.R. Senanayake, until his sudden death while on pilgrimage
in India on 1st January 1926. It was then that DS was suddenly propelled
to the forefront, aided as always by their oldest brother D.C. Senanayake,
the philanthropist. It would correct
to state that DS's advent into politics was somewhat of an accident,
that is, his joining the temperance movement was more of a means
to please his father than any desire on his part to be in public
life. He stuck however to the principles of the movement throughout
his life abstaining from alcohol. He was however a hard smoker,
who found it difficult to sit still without the puff of a cigarette
every ten minutes or so. He enjoyed relaxing at his clubs, the Orient
and the Singhalese Sports Club, although after assuming office of
premier this was relatively rare. Whatever the
official duties, he was never too busy for his school. The spirit
of S. Thomas' reigned in his heart and rushed through his veins.
He never missed the Royal-Thomian and was delighted to see both
his sons Dudley and Robert play at the "big matches".
In particular
Robert distinguished himself by captaining S. Thomas' and earning
himself a place in the record books for a brilliant unbeaten half
century. DS had himself played in the big matches of 1901 and 1902.
He had however less luck with the bat than his sons, earning a pair
of specs in 1901 and doing marginally better in 1902 where he made
a single.However he made contributions to his side behind the wickets
bringing off several splendid catches. When once a commentator stated
that Prime Minister Senanayake put his school before his country,
Senanayake corrected the misconception by adding, "the country
before the school, but only by a short head". Wrestling,
boxing and football apart from his brilliance as a horseman made
him somewhat of a legend in the sporting arena of S. Thomas' where
he distinguished himself although not in the academic sense. The
Warden at the time W.A. Stone wrote the following account on his
leaving certificate. "D.S. Senanayake has been a pupil of the
college since January 1893 where he entered the lowest Form, and
leaves from Form Five. His conduct has been irreproachable, his
work satisfactory and his influence most salutary. He has held the
position of Dormitory Prefect for the last few months here."
A little known
fact about D.S. Senanayake was his love for drama and theatre. As
a young man his portrayal of King Rajasingha I at the Gampaha pageant
was highly commended at the time. For DS participating in village
affairs, pageants and fairs was natural. He loved life
in Botale where the ancestral home stood, he loved the village and
the village folk and participated in the village events. Even as
Prime Minister, he would make sure to keep in touch with his roots,
and so found himself on the weekends, reclined in his favourite
armchair in his characteristic sarong and long sleeved banyan, in
the spacious verandah of the Botale walawwa. Often, if a
dispute arose among the heads of hundreds of villagers to whom he
was a friend and advisor to, judge and jury surrounded him. They
in turn loved, respected and absolutely trusted him. His closeness
to the community amongst whom he grew up is reflected by an account
related by the older villagers of Botale, about an incident of the
then fatal chickenpox epidemic breaking out, and how one particular
villager was isolated and not visited by anyone on account of the
infection. DS not only visited the patient but also carried him
on his shoulders to the nearest hospital some miles away. His closeness
to these people must have grown during the numerous years he spent
reaching the bowels of the earth in the plumbago mines of Botale
or when planting up the vast acres of their land of which he is
supposed to have planted some eighty acres of rubber and tapped
it all himself! At home he
was a devoted father and a good husband. His wife Emily (Molly)
Dunuwille was the sister of his oldest brother D.C. Senanayake's
wife. While the marriage of D.C Senanayake was an arranged one,
DS's was a love marriage, meeting his bride- to- be when accompanying
his older brother to their home. He is supposed to have first set
eyes on Miss Dunuwille, as she returned to the house after a well-bath,
with her hair flowing to her waist and her ivory complexioned skin
glistening, and not to mention the slightly plump figure clinging
to the diya redda she was wearing. It was love at first sight! During the
younger years of his sons, DS took great interest in teaching them
to ride, making them as good horsemen as he was. In the later years
of his life, he enjoyed spending time with his grandchildren when
time permitted. His grandchildren had always been fascinated with
his walrus-like moustache, and he once commented that it was his
grandchildren's favourite plaything. Like his son
Dudley, who was notorious for his greater than average appetite,
DS too was a 'big eater'. He was especially fond of manioc, jak
and kurakkan, and of course his insatiable appetite for ripe mangoes.
It is said that during the days he worked in the paddy fields, a
diet of kiribath and treacle was what he appreciated most. If there
was anything he could not do, it was to wind his watch, for if he
ever attempted this feat, Mrs. Senanayake knew she would have to
send it to the watch repairers. Although he
loved to read, and had a vast library in his home "Woodlands",
he seldom found the time, and instead it was used regularly by his
sons. On the rare occasion he actually did visit his library, more
often than not he would search for Bernard Shaw. Although not
known for his eloquence in the legislature, he was always armed
with all the facts and figures and had done copious research on
the subject under discussion. He spoke plainly, and clearly as to
what was on his mind. He was so direct
in his approach, that a spade was called a spade and nothing but
a spade! He often disarmed opponents with a common sense answer
or solution. Even on the sensitive issue of Tamil representation
in the first Ceylonese Parliament, when Senanayake was asked how
many Tamils he wanted in the House, he replied, "I don't care
if they are all Tamils, provided they are elected as Ceylonese."
Even on instances
he met the master oratory of Minister S.W.R.D Bandaranaike. Prior
to his crossing the floor in 1951 on the question of succession
after DS where Bandaranaike wanted his successor named, Senanayake's
common sense seemed to prevail, for he replied, "When I became
Prime Minister..... my good friend felt that I should nominate my
successor. I told him that was not a thing I could do, for the simple
reason that when I gave up the reins of government I became a nonentity
as far as things go. I go back to my private life. It is the people
that remain here afterwards, I told him, who should choose a successor
to me." I said it would be my endeavour to do what I could
to enable him to take my place". Many who worked
with him knew him to be precise, well-informed and punctual. He
woke up everyday at 4 .00 a.m. and often rode for a while in the
early hours. Immediately prior to setting off for official business,
he made a visit to his orchid house situated at the front of his
home in Woodlands. He had a large and rare collection of orchids
which he treasured and tended himself. After a brief inspection
he would choose the orchid that would honour his button hole that
day. On March 22,
1952, Mr. Senanayake died at the Central Hospital Colombo. His death
resulted from a fall from the police horse Chithra, after suffering
from a stroke brought on by vigorous riding. His riding companion
Sir Richard Aluvihare noticed the Premier tilt in an uncharacteristic
fashion as he rode behind him, and then the fall that ended his
life. His last words spoken to Sir Richard Aluvihare had been, "Richard
let's canter". And so in characteristic style we may assume
that D.S. Senanayake cantered to the next world. It was appropriate
perhaps that a man of such strength and vigour should exit the scene
in such a dramatic fashion During his lifetime, contemporaries amused at his love for the great outdoors nicknamed him Kelle John or Jungle John, the farmers who considered him their hero referred to him as maha goiya. For his wondrous works and irrigational schemes, many believed he was the reincarnation of the tank builder King Parakramabahu. For his commitment and struggle in winning sovereignty for Sri Lanka people called him Diyasena, but to all his countrymen alike, he alone will be remembered as the Father of our Nation. Those fun-filled Pera days Sir Ivor Jennings, first Vice Chancellor of the University of Ceylon wrote these words at the time the Peradeniya campus was taking shape. In The Kandy Road , Sir Ivor wrote: "The University will be entirely residential, each student being provided with a separate room in a Hall of Residence. Eight such Halls, six for men and two for women, are either erected or in the course of erection, and a ninth is planned. The Halls will be under University control but are being planned on collegiate lines, with common rooms and an attractive dining hall". Eight years
before the campus was opened, Sir Ivor had come "to survey
the site calmly". "Sitting on a tree stump on the bank
of the Mahaweli ganga, I spread Sir Patrick Abercrombie's site plan
before me. I began at last to see the magnificence of the scheme." He visualised
the whole picture. "Over there on Convocation Hill will be
the Library, with the Arts Building stretching behind it...To the
right of the Library, would be the administration building, raised
on granite pillars like the Brazen Palace at Anuradhapura (which
he had not then seen). On the extreme right would be the Convocation
Hall...To the left and right tea clad hills of old Peradeniya and
above them the patana of the Hantana Ridge. No university in the
world would have such a setting." By the time
we, the first batch of freshers at Peradeniya moved in, in early
1953, the picture was complete. The Arts Faculty had moved in from
Colombo towards the latter part of 1952 and joined the Arts, Agriculture
and Vet Science undergrads who were already there. The numbers were
increasing and the Campus was beginning to show life. The seniors
were there to greet us and warn us to get ready for the rag - the
first of its kind at Peradeniya. Those of us who had got rooms in
the Arunachalam and Jayatilaka Halls had cause to be happy - they
were closest to the lecture halls. Professor J. L. C. Rodrigo was
warden of Jayatilaka (where I had the good fortune to be along with
30 other freshers) and Professor D. E. Hettiarachchi was warden
of Arunachalam. They were responsible for the maintenance of discipline
in the Hall and to see that we were provided with nutritious meals.
Caterer Suwaris' food was generally good and most of us became 'eggtarians'
to have the best of both worlds - fish and egg. There were, of course,
the occasional hiccups like the tasteless soup served with dinner
which made us march to the warden's room in protest with the soup
plates!) We patronised James' tuckshop (one of the garages in front
of the hall turned into a little cafe with two long benches for
us to sit) from the first day for 'plain tea and punts'. We shared the
spacious rooms - sixty in all - (most of the final- year students
got single rooms) which were a luxury with even a wash basin inside
and ample room for two beds. The dress code had to be strictly adhered
to for dinner and those of us who preferred to come down in sarong
in place of the trousers, soon acquired, Jatika banians to wear
on top and get away with a national suit! Traditions
had to be built up. First was the rag.The Hall president happened
to be another Anandian, the ever friendly G. T. Wickremasinghe (G.
T., remembered for his classic performance in Veda Hatana, the highly
entertaining campus drama directed by dramatist Jubal) who secretly
told college mates not to worry too much but to pretend we were
dead scared of the rag. In the first week we had to go in full suit
for lectures, sometimes the coat worn the other way round. We could
see girls in sarees,worn short - identifying the freshers and making
acquaintance, leaving the seniors alone, was thus easier. Clad in full
kit, we assembled in the common room. We were given lit candles
and asked to kneel in a line and take the J Hall oath. (Cannot really
remember what it was!) Room rags followed - a few stern questions
by some 'honourable seniors' who visited the rooms in batches, followed
by a few 'orders' like diving from the bed to the floor and swimming!
There was no need to resist - it was clean fun. We soon settled
down to Campus life. It was not confined to lectures, tutorials
and library work. Most of us did the minimum of it but were more
keen on sports or getting about to see the countryside. Climbing
Hantane on a Saturday or Sunday, often in the pouring rain (the
weather in Peradeniya was most unpredictable ) and with plenty of
leeches, became a favourite pastime. Netball matches with Hilda
Obeysekera or Sanghamitta - the only Halls of Residence for females
- were very popular. Weekend trips were a regular feature - the
Buddhist Brotherhood to the Travel Society organising them. A few
busloads to Anuradhapura, Sigiriya, Trincomalee and other well known
places took off almost every week-end. Hikes to Pidurutalagala were
quite popular. We were lucky we had an ace cameraman with us - 'Agricola'
S. K. Charles, who later became Dean of the Faculty of Agriculture
in the Ruhuna University - who rarely missed a trip and made good
use of his Zeiss Icon 120 camera. Thanks to him, we can go back
50 years and recollect the lovely time we had at Peradeniya. Hall Society
meetings became interesting gatherings with guest speakers making
their presence at High Table dinners. The wardens and sub- wardens
were friendly and approachable. When Professor Malalasekera took
over from Professor Rodrigo as warden of Jayatilaka, we were very
much at home. He would come on an evening and sit on the steps at
the entrance and discuss how we were getting on. Sir Ivor was
the father figure at Peradeniya. We often saw him doing a brisk
evening walk in his checked short- sleeved shirt and shorts. As
a Peradeniya pioneer, K. Balachandran wrote in Memories of a University,
"Sir Ivor Jennings was for many of us, the most admired man
then in the campus. We looked forward to his inaugural address to
the new students each year. Like all his lectures and talks this
too was in simple, understandable language. To his audience, the
language he used was a model of Queen's English. Every evening we
could see him doing his routine stroll, walking-stick in hand. Though
he appeared to be somewhat aloof, he was not so, certainly far less
than the senior dons of the present day, most of whom would have
been my contemporaries. This is the impression I get from the present
day undergraduates." Sir Ivor, who
was serving his second term as Vice Chancellor having been elected
uncontested in June 1952, was elected Master of Trinity Hall, Cambridge
in June 1954 but was given leave till April 1955. He resigned as
Vice Chancellor on January 17, 1955 and left the next day with absolutely
no fuss. We took him
to the Kandy Road in a procession led by a motor cycle escort (just
four bikes, the precious possessions of the undergrads) . We walked
alongside his little Ford Anglia which he drove down to Colombo.
It was a touching moment. The Jennings
era was over. The Sir Nicholas Attygalle era was about to begin. |
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Copyright © 2001 Wijeya Newspapers
Ltd. All rights reserved. |
Almost
all sport today is not only competitive but also lucrative for commercialism
has superseded the spirit of the games. Teams play to win not only
the game but also unheard-of big money, for which purpose their
most savage instincts of combat have to be aroused. 
Pinnawala,
Balangoda. 
available
as table linen, there's also a selection of bed linen, bed sheets
and bedspreads. Handloom blouses are also made by the girls and
a few batik items, kaftans, table cloths and serviettes. With the
season fast approaching, there will be Christmas gifts available
as well.
