Thoughts from London

Playing pandu in the nation's name
Cricket-loving Sri Lanka has glorified its national cricketers, particularly since they won the World Cup under Arjuna Ranatunga. Although the cricket team has had its ups and downs-critics say mainly downs- some of the players have attained the status of pop icons.

But those thousands who have even deified some national cricketers might be disillusioned, even angry, if they hear of the stories that are circulating in town about the conduct of some players before and during the game against England which we lost at Southampton's Rose Bowl the previous Saturday.

If these rumours are true, then it is a national shame and the sooner punitive action is taken against those responsible, the better it will be for our image and the game. If not, such rumours should be laid to rest. Whatever it is they must be investigated, otherwise the stigma will not go away.

Unfortunately for sports lovers these stories of binge drinking at the height of a crucial match in which we capitulated, come hard on the heels of the Houdini-like act performed by a Sri Lanka handball team that disappeared into the woods leaving behind its dirty linen. What is particularly puzzling is not the disappearance. Sri Lankan athletes and others, including lawyers, have done it before when supposedly participating abroad in sports and more dubious games that do not call for much physical effort, except perhaps to run like mad from pursuing foreign immigration officials.

What is somewhat incomprehensible is why the entire team vanished south of the border leaving its dirty laundry. It is a well-known national pastime to wash dirty linen in public. In fact this has acquired the status of a national sport, particularly in political circles where dirtier the linen, the more it is put into a communal laundry and washed with relish.

But leaving it behind for their German hosts to send to the cleaners is a thoughtless exploitation of Teutonic hospitality. A few weeks before this ho-ha over the humbugging handballers, another glorified athlete decided to walk with the national flag instead of run under it at the recently concluded Athens Olympics.

Still, the disappearance of an entire team and the sorry spectacle of a much-vaunted sprinter bowing out of the games on account of injury, pale against the rumours surrounding the behaviour of some of our cricketers who seem to consider themselves national treasures.

One cannot vouch for the veracity of these stories that are being told by persons of Sri Lankan origin, some of who were in and around when the shenanigans were going on in the hotel where the cricketers were staying during the match against England.

It is for the cricket, and perhaps sport officials, to investigate vigorously and impartially and not try to sweep any corroborative evidence under a convenient carpet. The match at Southampton was played on Friday and should have been completed that day. But the ICC in its supreme wisdom decides to hold international tournaments in September when the weather is as dull as the people and rains often persistent.

So the match had to be continued the next day. The Sri Lankan cricketers returned to their hotel, the Marriot. One would have expected a disciplined team, determined to make its way into the final to sleep early and be rested for a competitive day ahead. Instead some apparently had other thoughts, so the story goes.

So let it be put this way.
Is it correct that:
there was merry-making in a second floor room of the Marriot Hotel occupied by a Sri Lankan cricketer.
Tribute was paid to Bacchus by at least three cricketers who were playing in the rain-affected match and a couple of non-playing cricketers?

Their high spirits were largely due to two Scotsmen named Johnnie and Walker? When Johnnie was exhausted, some walked to the lounge bar to summon more Johnnies to resurrect a dying prayer to the God of Wine?
The bacchanalian bout went on past 2am?

Also present in that second floor room was a non-Sri Lankan?
If cricketers involved in a crucial match conduct themselves so, they would need mental therapy more than any other therapy?

Some Sri Lankans even diverted one Johnnie wearing a black label to some obviously thirsty cricketers whose later performance did not match their spirits?
This was seen by other Sri Lankans who were staying overnight at the hotel and the celebration was the talk at breakfast that morning?

If any or all of this is true, will there be soul searching in the correct circles or will it be hushed up to save some faces?
What is now the talk of the town cannot be entirely false, some say. There has to be a kernel of truth.
Today's overpaid cricketers might not even have heard of that superb and graceful batsman M.Sathasivam. He is the only Sri Lankan cricketer I know of who could drink into the small hours of the morning and still go out and score a century.

At one time my neighbour at Jawatte Road, Satha, as he was popularly called, related to me several of his cricketing escapades. On one occasion-perhaps a Gopalan Trophy match in Madras- he drank through the night into the wee hours, had a shower, went out to the grounds as the sun rose and sat there watching the sun for hours to accustom himself to the morning light.

When he did go into bat he scored a century. Today we do not have players who could do that. The Avishka Gunawardenes and Jayanthas can hardly hold a candle (or even a glass perhaps) to a Sathasivam or a Rohan Kanhai. Nor is Chaminda Vaas, for all his skills, a Gary Sobers whose ability is permanently etched in cricket history.

At the dinner-dance held for the cricketers on Saturday night Foreign Minister Lakshman Kadirgamar was guilty of an unconscious faux pas when he contrasted cricketers and politicians, claiming the former were more disciplined.

That brought guffaws from some diners who had reached the threshold of patience at his unnecessarily long speech that actually contrasted poorly with that of the England cricket board's Tim Lamb.

The Friday night special is not all, some say. On Thursday night some players are said to have returned to the hotel quite late. Some were annoyed their planned family shopping on Saturday had been ruined by an extended match.

As these stories gained currency, one person recalled that when our team was on a tour of England three or four years ago, Sri Lankans living in Durham had invited them for dinner. They drank the host dry so quickly that the poor man had to make a hasty journey to an off-licence to replenish the vanished stocks.

Some stories might be apocryphal. I do not know. But what most Sri Lankans anywhere would expect is that if true, the recalcitrant players be severely punished for their disgraceful conduct.

Those who represent the country must be held accountable for their actions. Nobody should delude himself that his cricketing skills-whatever there is of it- absolves him from the norms of civilised conduct. If such things were indeed happening, where were the officials who accompanied the team, pray?

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