The 1962 Royal-Thomian had an ending of a Greek Drama
View(s):
Gowrishankaran opening with J.D. Wilson
A typical Greek drama ends ‘with neither a villain nor a virtuous man but a character between these two extremes, a man who is not eminently good and just, yet whose misfortune is brought about not by vice or depravity, but by some error or frailty (hamartia)’. The effect on the audience will be similarly ambiguous. A perfect tragedy, Aristotle says in his ‘Poetics’, should imitate actions that excite both ‘pity and fear’.
Yes, I am referring to the match that was played 61 years ago at the Colombo Oval. The Royal-Thomian of 1962. It had all the main elements of a Greek drama with heroes and villains and characters in between. I was a witness, not from the vantage point of a player or tent secretary, but a mere school kid of 13 years, trying to find my place in the big picture. I saw agitated fellow schoolboys braying for the blood of another i.e., a player, hidden inside the dressing room after the match. It was sort of a lynch mob hysteria that evening.
This year is the 61st anniversary of that incredibly exciting match. Was the last batsman to come out of the pavilion to bat for Royal when the score read 125 for 7 wickets in the second innings, a saviour or villain?
This is the Million Rupee question, whenever Royal-Thomian cricket becomes a subject of discussion. Like the 9-run match of 1885, it has become a part of folklore. However, it is never too late to review a scene and reverse judgment if there was a palpable injustice done to someone down the line.
The last hour of the match played on March 9 and 10 of 1962 was a scene of high drama and tension. Bold sporting declarations by the two captains — Darryl Lieversz of Royal and Keith Labrooy of S. Thomas’ — earlier in the match had left Royal to score 142 runs within two hours.
‘Gowrishankaran’
Now comes V. Gowrishankaran (‘Gowri’), the plucky little opening batsman to set the ball rolling for Royal College. In a daring display of attacking cricket which we often see now in T20 cricket and One Day Internationals, Gowri lit the Oval. His partnerships with J.D. (Shaw) Wilson, S.S. Kumar, S.D. Jayaratne, and P. Withana, helped Royal cruise to 116 runs for 3 wickets with victory in sight and sufficient time available. One could see light at the end of the tunnel. The joys of Royal-Thomian cricket were reaching the zenith, 27 runs more to score with seven wickets in hand.
The last victory by Royal until then was in 1951, under the captaincy of T. Vairavanathan, when Royal won in a cliffhanger ending with a mere 13 runs just before the closing of play. Then came two defeats for Royal in 1952 and 1953. Those who had entered Royal College or Royal Primary School in 1954 had never seen either a win or defeat at a Roy-Tho match until 1962.
Were the dreams of schoolboys seeing a decisive ending in a match going to be realised? This was in their minds. Boys were overstepping the boundary line in the excitement of seeing the incredible dawn of a distant dream, as Udaya Kaluaratchi (‘Kalu’), the Tent Secretary and Head Prefect pointed out. Kalu had instructions from Coach Mahes Rodrigo, another iconic figure in the pantheon of Royal cricket heroes, to exercise discipline over boys ‘going mad’ in the school tent.
Then tragedy struck when victory was in sight. Gowri, the hope of every supporter of Royal, was disabled with hamstring cramps. He could no longer run. In disbelief and silence, viewers saw Gowri calling for a runner.
S.S. Kumar answered the call. With no one to keep one end secure wickets started tumbling at 116, 116, 125, and 125, in quick succession. It resembled a ‘lamb to the slaughter’ scenario. The batsmen were coming out of the pavilion and then returning back soon afterward. Keith Labrooy and H.R.C. (Roger) D’ Silva were running amok through the Royal batting line up like a hot knife through butter at that stage of the game. The Royal tent suddenly fell into a deafening silence. A morbid silence. Not only the players but even the cricket fans on either side could feel the adrenaline rush. Even the Mustang Tent members were on their feet and the band stopped playing.
When skipper Darryl Lieversz was walking back to the pavilion, he had been aghast to see T.R. Jansen coming out of the pavilion. He had expected to see the all-rounder Sugi Rajaratnam instead. Roger Jansen had an uncanny reputation of being like the Australian Test cricketer ‘Slasher’ Ken Mackay, who had a back-to-the-wall batting style. An ideal batting temperament for a winning side now going downhill.
‘To be or not to be’
The soliloquy is essentially all about life and death: “To be or not to be” means “To live or not to live”. These are the words extracted from the play Hamlet, written by William Shakespeare. The mindset of T.R. (Roger) Jansen, the last batsman to come out, would have been no different. To score runs to win or stay put and defend the wicket and prevent a batting collapse that may end in a defeat.
He had little option. One must necessarily empathise with him given the high unbearable tension at the crease with 15 minutes left and Thomian fast bowlers on a murderous rampage. He plodded dutifully under strict instructions coming from Master-in-Charge E.C. Gunasekera. Jansen had time and two overs to score the required runs. But he exercised caution as instructed.
The blame game started there. Who should be held responsible for the failure to score the required runs? The batsmen who got out recklessly sacrificing their wickets before Jansen or Jansen who failed to hit the winning runs – two fours and two. Gowri at the other end was immobilised with leg cramps.
The answer is in the realm of speculation. To be fair by Roger Jansen, it can be argued vehemently that he prevented a collapse with his defiance and mindful batting and saved his beloved school from the ignominy of defeat.
Let me end this nostalgic note by giving words of praise to the real hero of the match –Gowrishankaran. He brought Royal to the edge of victory – the dream of dreams for minds yet in the making in school. One need not score a century to be remembered gratefully by posterity. In the context of the 1962 match, Gowrishankaran’s 61 runs not out was metaphorically speaking bigger than a century.
A column titled ‘Roses and Revolvers’ by ‘Neon Lights’ under the caption ‘New Verses to the Royal Song’ and published in the ‘Daily Mirror’ dated March 12, 1962 (two days after the match) had this to say:
“The theories about what should have been done in the last 15 minutes of play are many. I heartily disagree with the theory that Gowrishankaran should have been called back into the pavilion once he was afflicted with cramps. This was most unworthy by the 17-year-old fresher, who had been right there bang in the middle of the runs from 4 o’clock. The honour of the winning hit had to be his. But as there was no winning hit, Gowrishankaran deserves the highest praise for the manner in which, under affliction, he saved his side from possible defeat.”
‘Gem of an inning’
I remember Gowrishankaran as a simple unassuming character. My heartfelt thanks to him for that gem of an inning (using Tony Greig’s unforgettable characterization of Aravinda de Silva’s defiant innings of 66 runs in the match against India in the World Cup Tournament played at Eden Garden in Calcutta in 1996) in an unforgettable match that will be remembered as one of the most exciting and tense finishes of a Royal-Thomian cricket encounter.
- Senaka Weeraratna