['The Morning Inspection' is the title of a column I wrote for the Daily News from 2009 to 2011, one article a day, Monday through Saturday. This is 199th article in the new series that began in December 2022. Links to previous articles are given below]
It
is a name that lends itself to multiple truncation. Daya Sahabandu was
Daya to some. The surname was duly split and while some referred to him
as Saha, others preferred Bandu. At least according to former Sri
Lankan test cricketer Athula Samarasekera who wrote a beautiful tribute
to him on Facebook.
Athula contends that regardless of address,
the man was full of ‘dayaava (humanity or kindness).’ Athula knew him,
as did all those who played Division 1 Sara Trophy club cricket between
1963 and 1992, as someone who was feared by batters. They all knew what
Athula describes as a trademark smile, chewing a corner of the closed
lips.
I didn’t know him. I do remember my uncle Grenville Herat,
who captained the ‘Varsity’ team back in the early 70s, taking me to
see a cricket match at the Municipal Grounds. I remember one of the
teams being Nomads. He may or may not have mentioned Daya, but I knew
the name for I was an avid reader of the sports page of the Daily News
from the time I could read and being a cricket fan checked out all the
scores of ongoing matches. Daya’s name always popped up. There may have
been a picture or two for I have on more than one occasion recognised
him in the streets. That face. That chewing of the lip, according to
Athula, which I mistook for a habit of grinding his teeth.
I
think there must have been a story published in one of the newspapers
when he took his 1,000th wicket in Sara Trophy matches. Perhaps someone
mentioned it to me or there was some reference to the fact in some other
piece on bowlers or the pre-test era. The number stayed with me.
My friend, colleague and sports journalist Dhammika Ratnaweera mentioned it in a tribute published in the Daily
news and Sa’adi Thawfeeq, friend, colleague, stats man and sports journalist confirmed
this when I called him.
He played 253 matches in total, bowled
6552.1 overs of which 1919 were maidens, conceded 14,787 runs, took 1048
wickets at a 14.11 average. He represented Ceylon/Sri Lanka from 1969
to 1975, played 18 matches and took 87 wickets at an average of 19.49,
with 6 five-fors and 2 match bags of 10 wickets, his best being 8.37 vs
East Zone in 1975. Dhammika mentions, in addition, a brave innings as a
night watchman in an unofficial test against India in 1975, when he
defied the deadly spin of Bedi, Prasanna and Chandrasekhar for five and a
half hours, remaining unbeaten on 32!
Athula remembers a
certain remarkable uniformity in the way Daya responded to what happened
on the field. He was unmoved. The same smile, the same chewing of the
lip, regardless of the outcome of any delivery, regardless of the
decisions of the umpires. It probably indicates focus of an exceptional
order. Teams going up against the Nomads did not worry about fast
bowlers, according to him. It was Daya. Just Daya.
Sa’adi echoes
the sentiments expressed by Athula — he was one of the best of the
pre-Test era. In bowling at least, he was our version of Gary Sobers. He
opened the attack with his medium pacers and would later switch to
leg-spin. Tom Graveney, recalling Daya’s efforts in 1969 states that
Daya was the best left arm bowler he had faced in his 26 year career up
to 1969 and opines that had he been born in England, Daya would have
played for that country.
He's gone now. The man who spun out
hundreds of batsmen was spun out himself in the end. I saw a post
quoting another legend, Mevan Pieris. Mevan lamented that apart from
himself and Michael Tissera 'not a single other cricketer who had played
with him at school, club or national level attended the cremation.’
‘Not
a single Royalist or a representative of the Board of Control for
Cricket was there. Only about 15 persons were at the final send off to
this illustrious Royalist and National cricketer. Such is life.’
When
I learned that this great cricketer was no more, I felt sad. I am out
of the country and attending the funeral was out of the question. I
wouldn’t have gone, even if I was back home. I rarely attend funerals of
those I do not know, not even those of distant relatives. I did think
of those ‘Daily News days,’ random street-sightings and what I took to
be the habit of grinding his teeth. And those 1,000 plus Sara Trophy
wickets.
‘Such is life,’ Mevan is correct. We do what we think is
right (as he and Michael Tissera did), observe presence and absence and
leave it at that.
Daya Sahabandu didn’t die. But he certainly
ran out of partners. I like to think that such things would not have
perturbed him one bit. He would have smiled. To the end.
malindadocs@gmail.com
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