You can leave the butterflies for later

The Royal College Cricket Team 1984
[Graham Lawrence, 4th from left, standing]

Joel Garner, Colin Croft, Michael Holding, Malcolm Marshall and Andy Roberts. All of them were much-feared fast bowlers. They played together just once, but for most of the 1980s, opposing teams had to contend with four or three of them and even then there were others as fearsome who would be asked to step up and would deliver. In fact the West Indies had a reliable pace battery into the mid 1990s which included Curtly Ambrose, Courtney Walsh, Patrick Patterson, Ian Bishop and Winston Benjamin.  

Today, there’s talk of England’s current pace quartet (Chris Broad, James Anderson, Chris Woakes and Jofra Archer) being the best attacked produced by that country in quite a while. It’s not fair to compare players of different eras and it’s not possible to count and compare the butterflies that worried the tummies of batsmen who had to face such bowlers. Let’s leave aside comparisons. Let’s talk butterflies.

It’s all about pressure. The particular batsman’s form, general level of confidence, track-record against a particular bowler or bowling attack, the match situation all come into play.

My column-muse Sarath Weerakoon sent a note about pressure recently.

‘The pressure you face in games is simply nothing compared to the pressure some other people have to face. For example, the pressure that a  frontline soldier faces  from an enemy attack is a [far more] nerve- wracking experience than  a cricketer faces. Having a perspective like this can help you perform better under pressure.’

You can tell yourself anything to sort out nerves, but in the end you have to face the music, so to speak. Sometimes you are ready, sometimes not. Sometimes you can use the Weerakoon Method, if you will, but sometimes you just don’t have the time. Graham Lawrence, for example, didn’t have time to philosophize or prep himself up at the 105th Battle of the Blues.

Now Graham was Royal’s opening bowler. He could bat, but he was certainly not a one-down bat or a (virtual) opener that circumstances forced him to be.

Royal had a tough time from the get go. His opening partner, Inam Cassim injured his back bowling the very first over.  St Thomas’, led by Sidat Samarakkody, went on to declare at 236 for 8 about an hour before close of play.

‘Clearly our strategy was one of surviving the anxious hour in fading light. Viraj Perera got out for a duck and I was sent in as a nightwatchman with clear instructions to stay there with Nurendra Perera, the other opener,’ Graham reminisced a few years ago.

Kaushik Amalean and Mohanna Marzook weren’t anything like the aforementioned Windies greats but neither was Graham a Graham Gooch, Allan Border, Dilip Vengsarkar or David Boon.  Amalean and Marzoon weren’t anything like Broad and Co., but neither was Graham a Kraigg Brathwaite, Shamarh Brooks, Ralston Chase or Jermaine Blackwood.


‘I was petrified!  Balls were whizzing past my ear, although to everyone’s surprise I hooked a short delivery for Kaushik for four!  Anyway, I had a job to do and we managed to survive until the close,’ he said.

His determination was of course acknowledged and praised.  Naturally, he was asked to deliver more of the same the following morning.  He did negotiate the early swing at the SSC for an hour or so.  

Royal scored 212 and STC put up 172 for the loss of 5 wickets in the second innings, setting a target of 197.

‘It was going to be tough. Inam didn’t bat in the first innings, so we were playing with just 10.  My performance in the first innings prompted the coach to send me in at No 3 in the second innings as well.’

Again, he was a virtual opener, since Viraj got his second duck of the game.  Again he did the needful — solid blocking, intelligent leaving and regardless of how he had responded, showing off a healthy strut to demonstrate defiance.  

The match was drawn, thanks to great fight from the tail, particularly by Nalinda Premachandra and the baby of that side, Chandana Jayakody. The score read 135 for 8 at the end.  

Graham says that Inam had his pads on, ‘just in case’ and was ready to go out and do his best, but admits ‘it was essentially the last pair out there…’  Royal saved the match and some of the credit should go to this bowling allrounder who was called upon to do something he had never done all season. He was petrified, but didn’t show it.

Circumstances are not always ideal and often it is in absolutely unfavorable situations that one is called upon to make a stand. There’s no time to complain. No time to count or worry about butterflies. In the end you have to deliver out there where the battle takes place. And you have to leave it all there too. As Graham Lawrence did. 

This article was published in 'The Morning' [July 27, 2020]

Other articles in the series titled 'The Interception' [published in 'The Morning']

Get the point for the team!

Michael Holding always comes to the party

The madnesses that must stop

Error cuts down heroes, humility resurrects

Paul Robeson didn't scream 'BLM' but he knew what mattered

The plus, minus and equal of improvement

The 'never give up' of sports

Those who kneel are actually standing

Do you have a plan? Strengths and weaknesses

Wait, it's a strategy

The virtues of risk-free generosity

Thinking and out-thinking in sports

Read, locked-down people, read!

The team, the team!

Who should take the last shot?

It's all about partnerships

There are no Tommie Smith or John Carlos t-shirts brother

'The done thing' is rarely done

'Practice, lots of practice'

Special, always and forever

The shortcut to greatness

It's healthy to retire the braggadocio 

Money talks, gold rules: are we ok with that?

Sometimes if you don't stand up, you fall

Selections and the political economy of disappointment

So who is the GOAT?

Predecessors are great teachers

When things go wrong check the fundamentals

There's always only one more game left

Mind games are part of the sporting story

Those nervous ninetiesOut-think the opposition
School sports and parents

The importing mania in school cricket

Sportsmen and sportswomen beware: your accounts will be hacked soon!

Not all victories are recorded

malindasenevi@gmail.com

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‘Hara’ of Royal turns 80!

Mr Harischandra Nanayakkara (Second from left) with former colleagues 

If you asked any Old Royalist who attended the school in the second half of the last century the teachers they remember most, there are a few names that are bound to come up.  It has to do with the particular individuals being exceptional educationists as well as veritable institutions as well, such being their stature.

Very few Royalists end up as teachers and among those who do it’s just two or three who get to teach at their alma mater.  There’s nothing to say that an old boy is necessarily a better teacher or would be better remembered on account of having been a student at the school; if they are remembered it is because they were outstanding educationists.  

Royal College is too old a school to trace old-boy teachers and what kinds of careers they had.  We could however still talk of the latter half of the 20th Century.  We could talk of E.C. (Kataya) Gunasekara, a long-serving Deputy Principal which earned him the tag ‘DP’ and Vijitha (Viji) Weerasinghe, who retired as Deputy Principal (Middle School) and continued to serve the school in an advisory capacity until he passed away in 2008.  

Then there was ‘Hara’.  Some believe to this day that ‘Hara’ was short for ‘Haramanis’ but names matter less than the man, something he would be the first to acknowledge. 

Harischandra Nanayakkara turned 80 on the 22nd of November.  

He was at Royal both as a student and a teacher, and long enough and with such a presence that there would be as many ‘Hara Stories’ as there are ‘Kataya Stories’.  They served together for 17 years, Kataya retiring a few years after Mr Nanayakkara resigned in 1981 to take up a position in the Seychelles.  They were a pair, in a sense, sharing a background in the sciences, a strong sense of integrity and a reputation for being strict disciplinarians.  But Kataya was Kataya in ways that Hara was not and could not be a Kataya, just as Hara was Hara in ways that Kataya could not be.  

He entered Royal in 1949 after sitting for the Grade 6 Admission Test.  In 1958 he entered the University of Ceylon and took up teaching upon graduation, his first appointment being to Kuliyapitiya Central College in 1963. Two years later he was back at Royal and would spend the next 17 years of his life as a teacher, both in and out of the classroom, serving under no less than five principals — Dudley K.G.de Silva, Bogoda Premaratne, Welikala, Noel Seneviratne and L.D.H. Peiris.  

He was strict.  There were stories about his peculiar ways that made him a legend in the minds of even students who had yet to encounter him.  I heard, for instance, that this Hostel Warden who was always immaculately clad in white would come to class long before the school bell was rung.  He would sit and attend to his work.  Students would stroll in and he would wave them off telling them to do their thing and not to disturb him.  As more students arrived he would be ‘lost’ among them.  Even as he worked he had his ears pricked for any untoward comment which he could later use for whatever educational purpose he needed it for.  

Then there’s the story about how he caught a bunch of cricketers who had partyed after a match.  The story went like this: 

Hara: So you people would have had a big party after the match?

Coloursman: No, sir, it was a small party.

Hara: Ah, so all you would have got cocked (drunk)?

Coloursman: No sir, we just had a couple of beers, that’s all.

Hara: Only a couple of beers?  The whole team?  

Coloursman: No sir, just 5 of us. 

The five, all coloursman, were duly suspended. Royal had to field a team made of the captain and 10 freshers in the Exide Trophy tournament (the 50 over inter-schools event).  Royal nevertheless won the Excide Trophy.   

'Hara' with other 'Forty Niners'

Early this year when he came to Sri Lanka around the time of the Royal-Thomian I had the opportunity to ask him about this incident.  He brushed it off: ‘No, that’s not how it happened.  An old boy had seen them and reported the matter.  An inquiry was duly carried out and the boys were punished.’

Reputation inflates this, obviously. 

I first met him when I, along with other children of teachers, jumped over the wall and into the Royal College premises after school.  We were all students at what was then called Royal Junior School.  School finished at 1.00 pm and all of us would come to College and play 30 minutes of cricket until the college bell rang and we could go home with our mothers or fathers.

On one occasion, we were accosted by three stern-looking gentlemen.  E.C. Gunasekera and Harishchandra Nanayakkara were there; I cannot remember the third.  Kataya probably knew how we were.  We were all around 10-12 years of age.  He looked a giant to me.  He dished out a punishment: climb back over the wall, come through the main gate, then climb back and come through the gate again and repeat this until you’ve done it ten times.  No argument.  No protest. We turned back.  As we neared the gate, his characteristic sharp single clap stopped us.  He called us back, waved a finger and said ‘Don’t do it again.’  No smile.  But I noticed that the other gentlemen, Mr Nanayakkara was amused.  

By the time we came to College, he was not called ‘Hara’ although I believe that’s what the hostellers called him.  For us he was ‘Hostel Nana’ so named to distinguish him from D.D.R. Nanayakkara who was called ‘Bus Nana’ since he was in charge of school buses, season tickets and such.

He was, in fact, THE HOSTEL of Royal College. He made it what it was.  It had been an ill-run outfit when the then Principal, L.D.H. Peiris asked him to take charge of it.  Peiris was known to be a good administrator, a no-nonsense man who was incorruptible.  He obviously had the knack to find the right man for the job.  

Being there, on the spot as it were, it was perhaps natural that he acquired a better sense of the boys, their potentials and deficiencies, the issues that bothered them, what was fixable and what was not, and most of all how to mould them into men.  It should not surprise, looking back, that he was put in charge of so many extra-curricular activities.

Mr Nanayakkara was the Master-in-Charge of Rugby Football (1971-1975) and of Cricket (from 1976 until he left Royal).  The respective teams did exceptionally well during these periods, a fact that L.D.H. Peiries has made particular note of.  He was the Master-in-Charge of the College Grounds and coordinated its use for various games.  In fact he had helped Col F C De Saram, the long-serving coach of the First XI Cricket team, lay a new turf at the Reid Avenue grounds. For this, he had assigned two young labourers at the hostel, Ananda and Gunapala, and put the Hostel Prefects in charge of supervising the work.  Both men graduated into becoming accomplished groundsmen.  

He was strict, as pointed out, and was once commended by Principal Peiris for helping maintain discipline in the school.  He had a sense of humor and he knew to laugh.  My mother, Indrani, who was a colleague in the staff, would occasionally recount how ‘Nana’ threw the teachers into fits of laughter.  

Hara with two batchmates from Royal (L-R Dr Subasinghe, 'Hara' and Gamini Seneviratne)

Dion Schoorman, related a rare incident when Kataya and Nana both shed their strict demeanours and turned themselves into mischievous schoolboys.  

“It was at the annual Prefects vs Teachers match.  As always, we had 11 players and the teachers had about 30 fielders!  When I came to bat Kataya, who had the ball, said ‘we are going to get you out.’  I had scored a few runs when they did get me out.  Kataya ran up  to bowl and all of a sudden I was rendered immobile, or rather the bat was — Nana, who was the wicket-keeper was holding on to it!  I was bowled.  Protests fell on deaf ears.  I was sent off!”

Had he ended his career at Royal and spent his retirement in Sri Lanka, Mr Nanayakkara would have seen how the boys under his charge grew into fine men, good scholars and accomplished professionals.  Such development he was able to rejoice in only much later, when he was in the Seychelles.  A chance advertisement in the Daily News that his wife Nanda had noticed for mathematics and science teachers was how he ended up there.  Interestingly the Education Officer sent to Sri Lanka to conduct interviews, Patrick Pillay, would later become a member of that country’s cabinet.  

Like at Royal, he had not limited himself to the classroom.  He had been a member of the Seychelles Cricket Association, the Seychelles Bridge Club and the Seychelles Scrabble Association.  In fact in 1997 he had represented Seychelles at the World Scrabble Championships held in Washington DC, USA.  

The gratitude of that country for this remarkable educationist was eloquently expressed in a newspaper article published the day before he left the Seychelles for Australia where he has since spent his retirement with his son and daughter and their families.  

The headline says a lot: ‘Longest serving expatriate teacher retires.’  The article mentions that students to whom he taught Mathematics and Physics had gone on to become engineers, doctors, pilots, academics, member of the National Assembly, diplomats and even a member of the National Dance Troop!  It carried a comment by the teacher: ‘It has been a joy to see the benefits (beneficiaries?) of my teaching playing such a key role in the development of Seychelles.  

For all the extra-curricular work and all his humour, Hara or Nana or Hostel Nana, was first and last a teacher.  He recalled on at least a couple of occasions how he visited his elder daughter in the UK and tutored her son in Maths and Physics: “One of the happy moments in my life was when my eldest grandson entered Cambridge University.”

At 80, this grand old Royalist, lives an active life, online and off.  He is on Facebook and he checks his email account regularly.  He has his wits about him, and so too his witticism.  And that inimitable chuckle that always seems eager to pop out and destroy the feigned countenance of strictness that many a self-styled toughie in the schools he taught feared.  

Good health and long life, Sir! 

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Those bloody Gunasekaras!

A couple of weeks ago, Sampath Agalawatte, who was sharing a room with me at the Mahaweli Reach Hotel, told me of someone he wanted me to meet: ‘’your mother’s friend”.  That night, after Royal had beaten Trinity and secured the League Championship, I was introduced to a man with white hair and a white beard.  

“He knows your mother.”

I couldn’t recognize him.  Agale continued, “He was a visiting student from India.”

After a few minutes I realized that they were both conning and said so.  A few more words and I said “The tone, eyes and smile….you must be a Gunasekara!”

“Suraj, machang,” the ‘stranger’ said.  We talked.  And I remembered all the Gunasekaras of my time at Royal College.  I remembered an incident which I had not witnessed but was described vividly by a friend.  

The light was fading. The First XV of Royal College were going through a regular drill.  Giving them opposition was a ragtag bunch of second string players which included some junior players to make up the numbers.  On the sideline one of the coaches was keeping an eye while chatting with some friends, all Old Royalists.  Royal had a strong team that season and would go on to win the Bradby Shield.  The forwards were tough and the line was fast.  

It was a regulation move - slick hooking, quick feeding of the ball to the Fly-Half and then to the line.  Now we must keep in mind that in school rugby there’s a pretty wide chasm in terms of quality between the First XV and the rest of the squad.  Typically, in practices, the forwards would bulldoze their way and the line would penetrate the defence easily.  Not on that occasion though.  One of the centres sold a dummy to his counterpart and sliced through.  But he was brought down by a wing three-quarter who appeared to have come from nowhere.  

That happens sometimes of course.  Here’s the difference.  The boy who tackled the coloursman (and tackled him hard, let us note) was one of the several who ‘made up the numbers’ that evening.  He was not in the Second XV.  He wasn’t even an Under 17 player.  He was just 14.

The coach saw it all.  He didn’t know the junior players.  He is reported to have muttered, ‘must be another one of those bloody Gunasekaras.’

Which bloody Gunasekaras, though?  Gunasekara is a common name after all.  Well, in the late seventies and eighties among all the Gunasekaras, Gunasekeres, Gunasekeras, Goonesekaras, Goonesekeras etc. of the varied spelling there was one lot that was noticed for skill, spirit, incorrigibility and also for a strain of decency that seemed to be a pronounced element of their DNA.  

The first Gunasekara I met was Suranjith.  He played George Bamberger in Royal’s production of Peter Shaffer’s ‘Black Comedy’ in 1973.  My mother was in charge of the school’s dramatic society, Dramsoc, and she would often take myself, my brother and sister for rehearsals at the ‘Little Theater’.  It was a supporting role that Suranjith played.  I only remember that he blustered in and out.  The only line I remember is the following aside by Brindsley Miller (played by Mahen Perera) “I hope Carol’s monster father likes my culture and buys some!” (Carol was his fiance).  I didn’t know that he was a Gunasekara.  And the name meant nothing to me.

In the years that followed, that name came up many times, primarily through the Royal College souvenir put out for the Big Match, again an exercise my mother of many interests and responsibilities was involved in.  They came up in the stats section or rather the relationship-segment of that part of the souvenir.  They came under ‘Fathers and sons who played for Royal’ and ‘Brothers who played for Royal’.  I noticed that there were several generations of Gunasekaras who had played in the Royal-Thomian, several captains and many remarkable performances with bat and ball.  

Suranjith didn’t play cricket.  Neither did his six brothers.  There were only one Gunasekara who played cricket during the time I was at Royal, Lionel (in the mid seventies).  I ought to have been intrigued by the fact that there were no Gunasekaras playing cricket in the eighties but wasn’t because of a chance remark that I had overheard.  I can’t remember when or where it happened, but again it was my mother who said it.  

She was repeating, I believe, something that Suranjith’s brother Rabindranath (‘Raba’) had told her.  Apparently Raba had taken up rugby simply because there were too many cricketing pundits in the family.  He felt that he would be overloaded with advice from so many people that it would have been counter-productive.  Made sense. His father Valentine captained Royal, as did father’s cousin, Channa.  In fact all of Valentine’s brothers played for Royal: DB, Lionel, Harry, Christie and.  ‘HT’ coached the junior cricketers at Royal and ‘EC’ (‘Kataya’) acted as though he was convinced he could coach anyone in any sport.  Add to this illustrious bunch all the descendants of their grandfather, D.B. Gunasekara (snr) and that’s a pretty formidable and intimidating set of advisors to contend with.  Rugby must have appeared attractive to Raba. 

Anyway, Raba played rugger.  He captained Royal in 1979 and under his leadership Royal retained the Bradby Shield that Rohantha Peiris’ boys had secured the year before.  I am not privy to the conversations that may have taken place in the Gunasekara household about sports options, but the younger boys all followed Raba.  They were all fit, lean and fast.  Some were more fearless than the others, maybe because they were more inclined to rebel or to be naughty.  

They were all impish and always ready to laugh, sometimes at themselves.

Mohammed Haseeb (one of the best actors that the school produced) once told me how he and Raba became best of buddies.  They were among dozens lined up before Raba’s uncle, Kataya, the Vice Principal.  It was the annual interview of potential prefects.  The phone had rung and Kataya had reached behind his chair, picked up a bottle of Dettol and said ‘hello’.  The boys before him had been amused but their fear of the man bested their amusement. Only two had broken into guffaws, Raba and Haseeb. Kataya had answered the phone and curtly pointed to the two and said ‘get out’.  They had gone out, convinced that they had said goodbye to prefectship.  They were the only two who were appointed sans an interview!   

Suraj (known to the family as ‘Devo,’ short for Devendranath — yes, they were either ‘Naths’ or ‘Jiths’), who was next in line, was mild.  He was fast and was a winger.  Ajith, my batchmate, was the naughtiest of the lot and I know that his skipper of 1984, Sampath Agalawatte, and coach, Malik Samarawickrema had a hard time keeping him in line.  But he was an excellent centre.  

In later years Ajith would sober up and prove how good he was with his hands.  He’s a man of few words now, but in him is a poet who will probably remain unknown to the world.  

Suren (Surendranath) was like Suraj, soft in his ways, but fast.  Another winger.  Injo was a less incorrigible version of Ajith.  Amrith, the youngest, was in the rowing team I believe but must have played a bit of rugger in the junior teams.  He is not a ‘Jith’ nor a ‘Nath’ and therefore the exception to their parents’ fixations when naming their children.  The last two completed their secondary school education in the USA where by that time their father Valentine, one of the best architects the country has produced, was teaching.  

Ajith, as I said, was my batchmate, but I really got to know him only after he left school and was studying for his A/Ls.  He was at the time staying with his coach Malik.  My mother asked me to help him with his English Literature.  Ajith was not known for his academic work, but I quickly found that he could do well if he put his mind to it. 

Suren used to come home often.  My mother, who had retired by then, taught him English Literature and I believe Greek and Roman Civilization.  Whenever she couldn’t make it to class, my sister taught him GRC.  I would meet him in Boston not too long afterwards where he visited a friend who happened to be my roommate.   Always with a smile, that’s what I remember.  I last saw him more than 10 years ago.  That was again around the time of the Bradby.  Raba had come for the match and quite unexpectedly took ill and passed away.  Suren was accompanying his mother, Ranee, a lovely and indefatigable lady who, along with Uncle Valentine very kindly took care of me for two months before classes began in the school I had enrolled in (my parents had ‘packed me off’ fearing that I might become a victim of the bheeshanaya that was sweeping across the length and breadth of the country; this was in December 1988).  

I have only one recollection associated with Suranjith after his Bamberger days.  I still remember Uncle Valentine throwing a fit listening to a message his eldest son had left on the answering machine. “Hi Valentine and Ranee….” was how it began.  Uncle Valentine was and I believe still is a God-fearing Catholic (he would go to church everyday with Aunty Ranee, sometimes taking me along as well — “not to convert you,” he always assured).  He was strong in his faith and had strong opinions too, on almost every subject.  He was assured.  He was kind.  Aunty Ranee too.  

Injo and Amrith were so much younger that I never got to hang out with them.  The only girl in the family, Nashtaka, was the quintessential Akka, taking care of the kid brothers, sometimes taking 2 or 3 of them to school on her push bicycle.  

I asked Suraj about all of them.  That’s how I heard that Suranjith had died of a heart-attack a few years ago.  The entire family is living in various parts of the USA.  Wherever they are, there must be laughter.  The Gunasekaras of my generation didn’t come off as philosophers when in school, but they were all philosophical.  They knew when to be serious and when to be light.  Obviously they must have all slowed down over the years and made their mark in their respective fields.  

What counts for me and for many in my generation, is this: if there was one family that added a little something to whatever is essentially ‘Royal,’ it has to be the Gunasekaras.  The Rugger-Gunasekaras, as far as our time is concerned.  

See also: Sampath Agalawatte and his merry men of 1984

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Royal’s legendary rugby team of 1988

Which was the best team ever?  That’s a question that comes up frequently in all sports.  It’s a question that’s asked with reference to countries, clubs and schools.  The Trinity team of thirty years ago, for example, was the best ever, according to some.  The 1987 team, led by Tyrell Rajapakse, incidentally, was the Trinity team to win the schools’ rugby league, a feat that this year’s outfit was determined to emulate but was stopped by an equally determined bunch of Royalists led by Ovin Askey.  Royal won the first leg and thereby emerged league champs.  Two weeks later, Royal beat Trinity 13-8 to retain the Bradby.  

Tyrell’s team was awesome.  They won it all that year when twelve rival teams could only cross the Trinity line once.  Legends, certainly.  Will there be another Trinity team that will do better?  Only time can tell.  The Royal team of 1984 led by Sampath Agalawatte won the league, the sevens and the knock-out tournament, and that’s a record that remains to date. 

The Royal team led by Manik Weerakumar in 1976 defeated Trinity in the first leg (Longden Place) 35-0 and many thought the margin would stand the test of time.  I’ve heard tell that the Trinitians who were in the team that was mauled by Royal in 1976 dreamed of a day when Royal would better that score just so they would be divested of the ignominy of being ‘the worst drubbed team’.  I don’t know if this is really true, but if it was, then that loss must weigh less on their minds now.

We all want the ‘greats’ to be the greatest for all time.  Time passes and things change.  The school-game played over 60 minutes in the seventies and eighties is now an 80 minute affair.  Different rules call for different strategies and comparisons are beyond a certain point merely academic.  

Nevertheless we like to be nostalgic about teams we’ve known and/or admired.  The Royal College team of 1988 for example, led by Lasitha ‘Bonsa’ Gunaratne.  After Agalawatte’s ‘invincibles’ won the Bradby, Trinity won three years in a row. The teams led by Chiro Nanayakkara, Manjula Peiris and Suren Madanayake were roundly beaten in 1985, 1986 and 1987 respectively, the last being the low point.  And the fact of that ‘low point’ made Bonsa’s year especially sweet.     

Royal had a brilliant line that year and there were amazing moves originated by scrum-half Chanaka Seneviratne, put into play by Sanjeewa Abeysinghe and finished by the likes of Anura Dhammika, Bruce Cameron, Somesh Selvaratnam, Tilak Silva and Shantha Fernando.  Maybe they weren’t as fast or penetrative as Shah Dole and Imthie Marikkar of Trinity who had humiliated Royal in the previous year, but they were pure eye-candy for rugby enthusiasts nevertheless.  

The forwards were as formidable.  Bonsa, was a tall, powerful and highly mobile Number Eight with great footwork.  He was so good that he was recruited into the national team even while a schoolboy and went on to lead Sri Lanka.  Royal had the heaviest pack in the schools that year, thanks to the other two fat boys Mahima Wijesinghe and Madhawa Chandrasekera.  Janoda Thoradeniya and Thilina Balasuriya were solid in the lineouts and Niroshan Jayasinghe while  reliable Niroshan Jayasinghe out-hooked his counterparts throughout the regular season and during the Premadasa Trophy, ensuring that Royal had a massive possession-edge.  Alfred Hensman and Ruwan Jayasuriya were wing-forwards who constantly harassed the opposition in attack and defense.  

Royal’s season extended to include a two-match tour of Hong Kong.  The boys won both games and thereby remained unbeaten over 16 matches.  That’s rare.  Very rare.  

Was that the best ever team?  Who knows and who cares? What matters is that they were great.  They were great as were the teams led by Manik Weerakumar, Sampath Agalawatte and Tyrell Rajapakse and I am sure there are other teams which fit the ‘great’ bracket and who knows, may be considered to have risen above all the ones I’ve mentioned.   We remember for many reasons and some of the reasons are highly personal.  

For example, when the referee blew the long-whistle in Pallekele signaling that Royal had won the first leg as well as the league, all Royalists past and present privy to that moment would have felt they were over the moon.  How much higher can one get?  

Time and distance put things back into their proper perspective. On the 3rd of June, 2017 the batchmates of Bonsa, Mahima, Thora, Tilak, Madhawa, Shantha and of course Druvi Perera (who did not play that year but got colours in 1987) gathered as per custom on the evening of the Colombo leg (this time at the Orient Club).  The fate of the Bradby had already been decided.  The match, among other things, would have been discussed, but there’s no doubt that many of them would have revisited those heady second-term months of 1988.  And for a moment, Bonsa and his men probably grew taller and as tall as they were 29 years ago before time, event and personality brought them back to their true dimensions.   ‘The greatest ever,’ someone among them would surely think. And Tyrell Rajapaksa, if he heard about it, might smile but will not object, I’m sure.  

See also: Bonsa's incredible run in 1988 and MY most memorable Bradby moment

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Royal College (Colombo) can be replicated

It all began about 12 years ago.  The impetus was the simple reality that a concerted effort was needed to keep clean a school with a student population of around 8000.  That simple exercise initiated by the Principal of Royal College, Upali Gunasekera and a few dedicated teachers has now graduated into a comprehensive programme that sends a strong message about civic duty, wholesome lifestyles and community spirit to students, teachers, parents and society at large. 

Today, 12 years later the ‘greening’ of Royal College, a school associated with the colours blue and gold, encompasses solar power generation, solid waste management that includes a comprehensive garbage separation programme, composting, bio gas production, organic agriculture (in and out of the school) and a butterfly garden.  Perhaps the kola-kenda project is what brings all these things together, except of course the butterfly garden.  The idea was to give students, teachers and non-teaching staff a fillip in the morning that was nutritious, flavourful and eminently educational. 

Made of four traditional rice varieties that have known medicinal properties and which are organically grown, mixed with a complement of leafy greens, this drink has become extremely popular among students, teachers and other members of the staff.  Around 1000 cups are sold at a nominal price on a daily basis.  In the Lower School, every child gets at least one cup of kenda a week.  A kurahan-roti with kola-kenda has become standard breakfast for many.  The teachers claim that students are more alert than they were before.  The teachers themselves say that it has become part of their daily diet and claim that since this became a ‘habit,’ seemingly incurable aches and pains have disappeared miraculously. 

Interestingly, the teachers who are leading this project do so in conjunction with the inculcation of ideas such as compassion and collective effort. 

‘Apa surathal vayase…mal kekulu vemu sasare…meth vadamu nithare…ekamuthuva api punchi mithure’ (We are of a tender, cuddly age…we are like tiny buds in sansaara…let us be compassionate (to one another) always….we are friends and we are together).  This is a verse the children in the lower grades recite.  It is followed by five minutes of meditation, with reference to the particular belief system of the particular child. 

The school has convinced other institutions about the virtues of the idea. Today, 750 glasses of kolakenda are delivered to the Presidential Secretariat three days of the week while 300 are sent to the Defence Ministry twice a week. 

[For more details about this program, read 'The Greening of the Blue and Gold']

The impact of such exercises are of course hard to measure outside of the teachers’ claims such as ‘such and such a student, who used to be very naughty, is now extremely kind and consideration; this happened because the others got together and collectively decided to shower him with compassion’.   Such programmes may very well yield a more wholesome citizen by and by, but Royal College is today being celebrated for more tangible reasons.

Just the other day, Royal won its third successive ‘Gold’ at the Best Annual Report and Accounting Awards, being recognized for compilation excellence as well as transparency in overall accounting.  An important recognition thought it may be, what is of greater significance is the school being recognized for its ‘green’ programmes. 

 The school won the Gold for the ‘Schools’ category at the National Green Awards as adjudged by the Central Environmental Authority.  In addition Royal College is one of three Asian finalists (and one of the 14 global finalists) for the Zeyed Future Energy Prize 2016.  Last year also the school was shortlisted (among the 4 Asian finalists and 15 global finalists).   The Zeyed Prize, according to Prof Mohan Munasinghe, joint winner of the 2007 Nobel Prize for Peace, is the second most important recognition in the sphere of environmental concerns.  The winner gets US$ 100,000 and in the event the prize comes Royal’s way, the school plans to spend it to set up a solar power system that produces 70kw.

According to Aruna De Silva, the Hostel Warden and indefatigable campaigner for sustainable operations, the above recognitions are well deserved considering the considerable ‘greening’ efforts of the school over the past few years.  For example, the school boasts of the first ‘green’ school building. 

“It’s all there for the students to see.  They can see how the solar power generation happens, the relevant amounts and the ups and downs over the course of a single day.  We also calculate the number of trees that are saved by the use of solar power.  This is a real message which they will internalize as they go from Grade 1 to the A/L class.  It’s a message they will no doubt take to the world once they leave school,”  he explained. 

Principal Gunasekara was quick to point out that this is not about Royal College. “What we are really interested in is to get the message across to all schools that these kinds of initiatives are not beyond them.   We believe that it is possible for all schools to have a kola-kenda programme of this kind.   It is the healthier drink for school children.”

It is to drive this point home, in part, that Royal College organized a special ‘walk’ a few weeks ago.    The message was simple: drink more water instead of fizzy drinks.  Simple, because it’s a simple truth that has been drowned by aggressive advertising campaigns, the ‘truth’ being that water flushes out much of the impurities in the body.  The effort won the support of the Ministry of Health, UNESCO, the GMOA (which helped put together educational literature in all three languages and played a key advisory role), UNICEF and several other organizations. 

“More than 20,000 participated in this walk.  We invited all 150 schools in the Colombo District.  First we conducted training sessions for the prefects of all these schools and they in turn trained the students in their respective schools,” the Principal said. 

What is a school if not an institution that teaches not only Science, Mathematics, language and so on, but also values and the essentials that make for healthy and sustainable lifestyles where individual well-being is inextricably entwined with the well-being of society?  All schools are mandated either by writ or by unspoken understanding to impart an education that turns an individual student into a responsible citizen.  Naturally, even the strictest adherence to curriculum does not deliver the goods.  That’s why there are extra-curricular activities and children are encouraged to engage in them. 

There are all kinds of extra-curricular activities, the most popular of course being sports, scouting or guiding, cadetting, theatre, literary pursuits and debating.  Whenever schools hold carnivals or exhibitions, children experience an added dimension of the extra-curricular.  A fourth dimension to schooling, so to speak, has now been introduced: greening.  This means all things environmental. 

Environment, as Royal College has shown, is not just about re-use, recycle and reduce.  It is about sustainable practices on all counts.  ‘Green,’ then is also about better, healthier and sustainable lifestyles, harmony between human being and nature, and importantly, among human being as well.  That’s the tough task that Royal College, Colombo has set itself in recent years.  It is a task that has been embraced by students and teachers with a lot of enthusiasm.  The energy and spirit that have been expended has yielded much, but, as Principal Gunasekera mentioned, the most significant of these is the fact that now there’s tangible evidence to claim that almost everything that Royal College has initiated are eminently replicable in even the most modest of the most rural schools in the country.

The greening of Royal College is something the school can be proud of.    It would be prouder still if its example helps green the entire country, for the exercise after all focuses on ‘all’ and not the elemental parts of a given social and physical landscape.  There won’t be awards for such an outcome, but even if no one understands, the children in the lower school who talk of connectivity that extends beyond life (i.e. over lifetimes), compassion (the affirmation of understanding, giving and sharing) and friendship, will know.  They would smile.

 

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