Sri Lanka Cricket head Arjuna Ranatunga (in pic with Anil Kumble), who in his playing days gave off an air of benevolent dictatorship, is being slammed for apparently dropping the benevolence and adding extravagance, writes S. Ram Mahesh.
Sunday, July 20: The diary prepares for the arduous tour by tanking up on water and carbo-loading, methods reportedly used by elite athletes. This turns out to be far more difficult than imagined, for carbo-loading involves eating every source of carbohydrate visible — and the diary, of course, manages to excavate sources hidden by an overzealous and plainly difficult sibling — and come evening, it is in no position to board a plane.
Monday, July 21: All well, dear reader(s), fear not, the diary not only triumphantly conquers an hour-and-a-half long plane trip, but proceeds, being the conscientious, meticulous thing it is, to the Sinhalese Sports Club (SSC). And here happens one of those occurrences that the poet Clare Vawyens, bless her soul, termed Providence. The diary’s distinguished bearing leads the staff into thinking it is a delegate for the SAARC summit. No restrictions are placed, as the diary wanders through the pretty ground. Meanwhile Sri Lanka Cricket (SLC), the country’s cricket board, isn’t having the wondrous day the diary is. Or so the Daily Mirror, a curious island broadsheet (the broadsheet is curious, not the island), will have us believe. SLC head Arjuna Ranatunga, who in his playing days gave off an air of benevolent dictatorship, is being slammed for apparently dropping the benevolence, and adding...er... extravagance. In an article headlined ‘Arjuna out, who’s in charge?’, the paper reports on Ranatunga’s ninth trip abroad since becoming the chief administrator in January this year. The sports minister reportedly slams SLC for acting in a unilateral manner in appointing Hashan Tillekeratne as manager and rejects the former Sri Lankan batsman’s instalment. Clearly, there is more to this than meets the eye. The diary, however, is too pooped to follow the riveting action on a day-to-day basis; moreover, it has bigger fish to fry.
Tuesday, July 22: For long, the diary has pondered this potentially life-altering question: What does Waqar Younis eat for breakfast? Today, the diary has its answer — cornflakes, skimmed milk, and a trickle of honey. The former Pakistani fast bowler, purveyor of toe-crushers, is here to do commentary, and by a happy twist of fate (another Clare Vawyens theme), is booked into the same hotel the diary and its cohorts are staying in. An early-morning quote is just the thing to boost the spirit, but fast bowlers are known to be grouchy starters, and the diary, still nursing scars from encounters with Colin Croft and Merv Hughes, gives the opportunity a pass.
Wednesday, July 23: A wet, wet start to the first Test, and the only action of note in the morning is the violent attack on the diary and its colleague on the way to the SSC. Now, keep in mind that the diary, from time to time, takes the odd liberty, and read this with a healthy mix of incredulity. The statutory warning done, let’s get to the story. An elderly gentleman has undertaken to drop the diary and friend in his autorickshaw, and here we are motoring along, when a jeep containing military types passes close by, horning stridently. It’s dark and raining, and our auto driver can barely see ahead, let alone see what’s behind. A second jeep pulls up, a man in uniform reverses his rifle, and smashes the auto’s rear-view mirror with the butt. Our driver blinks nary an eyelid and drives on. We arrive safely. Time hangs heavy as the diary waits for the day to get underway. Ever ready for a chat and a cup of tea, the diary strikes up a conversation with Hari, a freelance cameraman who is working for the host broadcaster. Talk turns to the umpire referral system. Hari dismisses the hypothesis that the positioning of cameras introduces levels of parallax that compromises the system. The diary wonders if the kind man will allow it to look through the camera, perhaps even swivel it a touch, but Hari, probably seeing the signs, the ham-handed air, and the look of utter incapability, turns to his camera and peers thorough it very intently for the next 10 minutes. The diary can take a hint — especially one that’s so final — and drowns its sorrow in an overlarge cup of trifle. One of the diary’s several theories is that ex-cricketers make poor politicians because they don’t fill suits well. Dave Richardson, he of the big, brown gloves when keeping wicket for South Africa in the 90s, has no such problem. As ICC general manager (cricket) he is here to monitor the umpire referral system. “He looks spectacular!” gushes a journalist, who will remain unnamed. The diary agrees, perhaps a smidge too warmly.
Thursday, June 24: Anil Kumble carves himself yet another slice of history, this time becoming the first captain in Test cricket to ask for the referral of a decision. The great man has made more judicious calls in a glittering career, and Mr. Koertzen and Mr. Benson return a not out verdict to Harbhajan Singh’s appeal for leg-before.
Friday, June 25: A national selector is spotted in the press box, doing his best impression of a former Indian captain’s dancing skills. Now, such matters are subject to stringent defamation laws, or so the diary is informed, and it will dutifully desist from naming names. The step in question is the sort favoured by celluloid heroes of yesteryear, and if the captain cut as fine a figure as the selector mimicking him, he will have had no trouble earning his mates’ respect. There’s something about a grown man with his hands behind his ears, pelvis thrust jauntily, that inspires loyalty. Ajantha Mendis’s carom ball is being discussed threadbare. The diary knows it rather well from tennis-ball cricket. As a wicketkeeper of disrepute, it has often been wrong-footed by this delivery, bowled by a cruel, mirthless friend, who has since become a respected doctor.
Saturday, June 26: The diary phones in today’s entry, but cavil not dear reader; brace thyself for a shocking revelation week next.
Comments
SHARE