This was not merely a cricket match; it was a bruising, bar-room brawl of a Test—the kind that, in the years before Duncan Fletcher’s tenure, England might well have surrendered. But under his leadership, England had forged a new identity, one of resilience and steel. In the crucible of Kandy, against a Sri Lankan side brimming with passion and a home crowd seething with frustration over umpiring controversies, England emerged victorious, squaring the series in dramatic fashion.
Kandy provided a stage worthy of such a battle. The picturesque backdrop of hazy blue mountains, lined with palm and flame trees, belied the intensity of the contest. The pitch, exemplary in its fairness, catered to all disciplines—encouraging stroke play, rewarding seam movement, and offering enough assistance to spinners without ever breaking up as expected. The cricket itself was a see-sawing affair, with momentum shifting back and forth like a relentless ping-pong match. But beneath the spectacle lay an undercurrent of controversy, as the match was marred by a string of umpiring blunders—by some counts, as many as fifteen.
Controversy Erupts: Umpiring Woes Overshadow the Contest
The questionable officiating reached its boiling point on the third day, which, in a cruel irony, happened to be a poya day—a sacred Buddhist day of peace. Instead, tempers flared, and accusations of bias filled the air. Referee Hanumant Singh had his hands full, issuing stern reprimands to Atherton and Sangakkara, while Jayasuriya was fined 60 percent of his match fee for dissent and handed a suspended ban of two Tests and two ODIs. The local press was scathing, with headlines like "BC Bats for England" in reference to home umpire B.C. Cooray, whose decisions were seen as disproportionately favoring the visitors.
The match had begun at a frenetic pace, with Sri Lanka racing to 69 for two in just 16 overs. The elegant Aravinda de Silva and the ever-determined Kumar Sangakkara had begun to rebuild after early setbacks, but then came the first of many questionable calls. Sangakkara, having misjudged a delivery from White, deflected it off his elbow to gully, only for Koertzen to erroneously raise his finger. The young left-hander, unable to mask his frustration, rubbed his forearm pointedly—an act that would later earn him his first official reprimand. Moments later, White struck again, removing de Silva. At 80 for four, Sri Lanka teetered on the edge, a situation that could have worsened had Trescothick not spilled Arnold in the gully.
Then came a counterattack. By tea, Mahela Jayawardene had transformed the innings with a sparkling century, brimming with crisp pulls and elegant cuts. His knock, an exhibition of class and temperament, seemed destined to take Sri Lanka to a formidable total. But England’s bowlers, particularly Gough and Caddick, had other plans. The introduction of the second new ball triggered a dramatic collapse—five wickets crumbling for a mere 20 runs, undoing Sri Lanka’s earlier recovery.
Hussain’s Grit and Hick’s Struggles
England’s response began unconvincingly, losing both openers by 37. However, an extraordinary partnership between Nasser Hussain and Graham Thorpe followed. Their stand of 167—a record for any England wicket against Sri Lanka—was the backbone of the innings. Yet controversy refused to abate. Twice, Hussain seemed to have fallen to Muralitharan, with the ball striking both pad and bat before looping into waiting hands. Twice, Cooray shook his head, much to the fury of the Sri Lankan fielders.
Hussain, seizing his fortune with both hands, produced a courageous, morale-boosting century. But just as England seemed in control, they faltered. The loss of Thorpe, followed in quick succession by Hick—who, despite being reprieved twice by Cooray in a span of 11 balls, seemed almost intent on making a duck—halted England’s progress.
The third day began in a manner befitting the drama that had already unfolded. Alec Stewart, fortunate to have survived earlier, was now given out incorrectly. The pattern of errors continued, tempers flared, and then, like a lit fuse, the match exploded.
The Match Ignites: Sri Lanka’s Collapse and Sangakkara’s Brilliance
In a fiery opening spell, Gough dismissed Atapattu in his first over, but it was Caddick’s strike that truly sent shockwaves through the Sri Lankan camp. Jayasuriya, attempting a flashy drive, edged to Thorpe, who held a spectacular catch at third slip. Yet the replay revealed a harsh truth—the ball had struck the ground before reaching the fielder. Cooray, oblivious to the fact, gave Jayasuriya out. The Sri Lankan captain’s fury was palpable as he hurled his helmet to the turf in disgust, earning himself a disciplinary sanction.
If England sensed victory, they were not mistaken. De Silva gloved to gully moments later, and in the span of just 13 balls, Sri Lanka had lost three wickets for as many runs. Amid the madness, Atherton and Sangakkara found themselves in a heated confrontation, with the former wagging his finger first at the batsman, then seemingly at Koertzen. The match had descended into outright hostility.
By stumps, Sri Lanka were effectively eight for six, and an English victory seemed all but assured. Yet, from the depths of anger and injustice, Sangakkara carved out a magnificent fightback. Teaming up with Dharmasena, he counterattacked brilliantly, punishing every loose ball. His innings, precise and authoritative, carried Sri Lanka from the brink of oblivion to a position of hope.
On 34 overnight, he had narrowly survived a stumping chance. By lunch the next day, he was on the cusp of a maiden Test hundred, his team’s lead at 91, and for the first time, a Sri Lankan victory was conceivable. But Hussain and Croft had read the moment well. With the mid-on fielder pushed back, Croft tossed the ball temptingly. Sangakkara, sensing glory, took the bait—and perished. It was the turning point England desperately needed.
Even so, the resistance carried on into the afternoon until the new ball delivered the final blows. Gough, relentless in his precision, wrapped up the innings, finishing with eight wickets in the match.
The Final Chase: A Test Hangs in the Balance
Set 161 to win, England’s pursuit began shakily. Vaas, the ever-reliable left-armer, removed both Atherton (for the fourth time in the series) and Trescothick in his fourth over. But Hussain and Thorpe steadied the ship, putting together 61 vital runs. Their dismissals before stumps left the match tantalizingly poised: 70 runs or six wickets for victory.
The next morning, the equation was simple: could England’s middle and lower order withstand Muralitharan’s threat? Stewart’s early dismissal raised alarms, bringing Hick to the crease for what felt like his final chance to salvage a troubled Test career. For a fleeting moment, he flickered, striking a couple of crisp boundaries. Then, as had become all too familiar, the flame was extinguished.
Wickets and runs arrived at intervals perfect enough to sustain the tension. But in the end, England’s tail—Croft, White, and Giles—held their nerve, guiding their team through the final storm.
Conclusion: A Test of Fire and Fury
This was not just a match but a battle of endurance, skill, and mental fortitude. England, once known for crumbling under pressure, had held firm in the face of adversity. Gough’s relentless pace, Hussain’s defiant century, and the resilience of England’s lower order had carried them through. Yet, it was also a Test overshadowed by umpiring controversies, heated confrontations, and the lingering question of "what if" for Sri Lanka.
For all its flaws and fury, this was Test cricket at its most gripping—a spectacle that would be remembered long after the dust of Kandy had settled.
Thank You
Faisal Caesar
