Every Royalist and Trinitian who goes for the Bradby Shield on a regular basis will have special memories. The players of course see things from a different angle. Their recollections are qualitatively different. Naturally, the nail-biters and the victories by large margins stand out as do the exploits of friends.
My first Bradby Shield experience was in Bogambara, Kandy. It was the second leg in 1976. Royal had beaten Trinity by a record margin (at the time) of 36-0. Back then it was a 60 minute game, as opposed to the current 80 minute format. Tries gave you 4 points then, not 5. Anyway, Manik Weerakumar’s team won 25-6, after Trinity woke up the Royalists drawing first blood.
Since then there’s been Sampath Agalawatte's Invincible Team of 1984, the juggernaut led by Lasitha ‘Bonsa’ Gunaratne in 1988, the 2002 team of Zulki Hamid that still holds the record for the highest aggregate (83-0). There have been other memorable teams, matches and moments of individual brilliance, all of which make for a lot of pride. The greatest lesson that I, a mere fan, obtained from the Bradby, however, was not from any of these games. Indeed it was from something that happened after the game.
The year was 1983. Royal was led by Sriyan Cooray. The first leg was in Kandy. A good, hard fought match. The records show that Trinity won 14-6. The record don’t show that no less than four tries scored by Royal were disallowed. I remember Royal’s Centre, Ajith Gunasekera in tears after the referee refused to acknowledge that he had touched down. At one point, the boys had wanted to leave the field. Sriyan and perhaps a few other seniors had prevailed on them to understand that ‘The Bradby’ is not only about each of them as individuals, but was bigger than all that.
Such conversations, I did not hear from the sidelines. What I did hear is what makes that Bradby special for me.
The Royal camp was devastated, naturally. We had been robbed, we were convinced. We could do nothing about it. But then again, the Kandy Leg is also about revelry, and Royalists seldom dwell too long on defeats. Indeed, they don’t seem to go overboard even in victory. I was ready to put the match behind me.
Just then Sriyan led his team out of the dressing room. They all seemed a bit down in the mouth. Then he spoke to his team.
‘We are Royalists. We don’t complain about what happened. Now let’s join our boys and the college band.’
He may have said other things, but I don’t remember. I do remember a great roar of support and the usual cheer, R-O-Y-A-L….ROYAL!
Years later, recalling the match, Sriyan, smiling as he always does, said that the Trinitians had been quite apologetic about what had happened.
Royal won the second leg in Colombo, but Trinity retained the Bradby because of the greater margin in Kandy.
Clearly, that is not the only match marked by poor refereeing. Referees err. Some have bad days and some have outrageously bad days. The record stands. No one disputes or calls for re-matches or a nulling of the result. Sriyan and his boys left it all in Bogambara. I took something away. We move on. An out-of-class lesson taught by a student, just one year senior to me. Thank you, Sriyan Cooray.
malindasenevi@gmail.com
0 comments:
Post a Comment