Image Credit- AP
The entire Sri Lankan team was gathered together,
staring at the enormous screen as a group. The magic word “out”
flashed, and ecstasy burst out the following minute. Out of the group, Sadeera
Samarawickrama imitated the Imran Tahir sprint in his own way.
Samarawickrama ran around 25 yards towards the cover
boundary before his teammates could catch up to him, pumping the air with joy.
He abruptly changed his course since he was so ecstatic. He didn’t know where
to run or how to rejoice because he was so happy. Eventually, his pals caught
up with him and hugged him like a sweaty bear.
With a close call that went his way for an incredible
catch, we’d experienced another Peak Sri Lanka moment. One in which they
elevate barely credible material to the level of kid’s play. In an episode
where England’s game was best suited to the circumstances, the contemporary ODI
behemoths were turned on their head.
Please come on. Where else could England have,
although belatedly, Bazballed their way into the World Cup if not in Bengaluru?
They would have loved this. Cooler air, tiny ground and flat deck. Presented on
a platter, all. They even prevailed in the toss, too. Jos Buttler said
“bat first” with no effort to hide his joy.
They had the benefit of the doubt. What other
explanation is there for Sri Lanka pulling out of a review that they appeared
to be very confident about? It was the match’s opening ball. With a late tail
in that was so deadly that it sent Jonny Bairstow staggering inside the crease
trying to get bat to it, Dilshan Madushanka had bowled the ideal inswinger.
Following a mid-pitch meeting that made fifteen seconds seem like fifteen
minutes, Sri Lankans opted against it as a group.
Angelo Mathews shook his head in surprise mid-off. He
had just strolled into his fourth World Cup at the age of 36. Hardly credible
given that he was at home ten days prior, having come to terms with his
expulsion. This was yet another peak Sri Lanka moment. One day out of the
running, the next right back in the race. Really, you’re never out.
People still do absurd things. In March 2020, Mathews
claimed his last wicket in an ODI. As soon as he steps on, he dismisses Dawid
Malan with grace. The ball flicks the edge, rips a steep slice off the deck,
and causes the batter to cramp. Mathews puts out both hands, giving off a
“I’m back” vibe. He cannot be kept at bay.
You would think that’s about as exciting as things can
get for Mathews. Nope, more is on the way. He’s become ubiquitous. He is
standing next to skipper Kusal Mendis, pleading with him to put a slip in place
for the fast bowlers and giving Kasun Rajitha advice while skulking at the
wicket like a hawk. And then, without warning, swoops in to send Mendis a
rocket throw after hitting him. Root is gone. Mathews has woven magic again.
Sri Lanka is operational. So aware of the world that,
after a week, you question what has changed. It’s the chirp again. The presence
of the world champions on the rack generates enthusiasm. This was not how
things were meant to work out. Another “you cannot do that, Ben Stokes
moment” was undoubtedly just around the corner. Beneath his helmet, he’s
been seething, waiting to explode.
till, with 20 overs remaining, he scoops off deep
midwicket at 43. The replacement, Dushan Hemantha, caught it with his hands
facing up. Stokes walks off, tossing his bat up. For Sri Lanka, this is a dream
coming true. The run-out of Adil Rashid is the final moment of Peak Sri Lanka
magic to occur.
It summed up England’s day of horrors. Sri Lanka were
now in a position to Bazball England out of the World Cup – or something close
enough to that. It all seemed straight out of a fairy tale. Except it wasn’t.
It was Sri Lanka doing Peak Sri Lanka things.