Kumar Sangakkara: The Last Romantic of Cricket

Sir Neville Cardus once said, “We remember not the scores and the results in after years; it is the men who remain in our minds, in our imagination.” It is a sentiment that encapsulates the essence of Kumar Sangakkara—an emblem of precision, elegance, and intellect, whose cricketing journey transcends numbers and statistics. 

Born in a land of breathtaking beauty, Sri Lanka—a country of golden beaches, lush forests, and cascading waterfalls—Sangakkara’s batting mirrored the natural splendour of his homeland. Like the serene waves lapping against the island’s shores, his cover drives were a soothing balm to the eyes, a visual symphony that could lift the soul of the most jaded spectator. 

Sri Lanka: The Soil That Nurtured Genius

Sri Lanka’s cricketing roots date back to 1832, a time when the British, using Ceylon as a colonial outpost, introduced cricket to the island. What began as a leisurely pastime for colonials evolved into a national obsession. By the early 20th century, first-class cricket had taken root, with occasional matches against touring Australian and English sides fostering a fledgling cricket culture. 

This culture thrived on passion and intellect, creating players who brought not just skill but also innovative thought to the game. From Arjuna Ranatunga’s tactical acumen to Muttiah Muralitharan’s wizardry, Sri Lanka has given cricket not only champions but also minds that enriched the sport. In this illustrious lineage, Kumar Sangakkara stands tall as a cricketer who combined artistry with intellect, embodying the very soul of the game. 

The Artist in a Power-Hitting Era

The left-handed batsman has historically been synonymous with elegance. Cardus celebrated Frank Woolley’s grace as "compounded of soft airs and fresh flavours," and David Gower’s drives were likened to brushstrokes on a canvas. However, as cricket evolved, artistry seemed to wane. The rise of power hitters like Matthew Hayden, Chris Gayle, and Graeme Smith marked a shift toward brute force and utilitarian run-making. Elegance, it seemed, was a relic of the past. 

Enter Kumar Sangakkara. 

From his debut in 2000, Sangakkara redefined left-handed batting with a blend of technical mastery and poetic flair. His backfoot punches were reminiscent of Sri Lanka’s lush forests—vibrant, enduring, and full of life—while his cover drives had the rhythmic grace of the ocean waves, each stroke a masterpiece. To watch him bat was to experience a harmony between precision and aesthetics, power and poise. 

Unlike the violent collisions between bat and ball favoured by many contemporaries, Sangakkara orchestrated a tender dialogue. His relationship with the ball was one of love, not war as if inviting it to dance to his rhythm. Cricket romantics saw in him the embodiment of Cardus’ vision: a player whose art transcended the boundaries of the field. 

The Intellectual Cricketer

Sangakkara’s brilliance extended beyond his batting. As an orator, he brought rare erudition to cricket’s discourse, exemplified by his iconic 2011 MCC Spirit of Cricket Cowdrey Lecture. In it, he spoke eloquently of Sri Lanka’s history, its cricketing journey, and the responsibility of players to uphold the spirit of the game. His words resonated deeply, showcasing his intellect and a vision that elevated him above mere statistical greatness. 

On the field, his leadership was defined by clarity and composure. He captained with the same artistry that he wielded with the bat, navigating the team through triumphs and challenges. 

The Void He Leaves Behind

Sangakkara’s retirement after the second Test against India in 2015 marked the end of an era. The statistical comparisons—whether he stands alongside Sachin Tendulkar or above other greats—are futile when it comes to appreciating his legacy. His greatness lies not in the numbers but in the joy he brought to those who watched him play. 

His departure leaves a void, not just in Sri Lankan cricket but in the global game. In an age increasingly dominated by utility over beauty, Sangakkara was a beacon of elegance. The question remains: who will carry this legacy forward? Players like Soumya Sarkar show promise, but the road to embodying Sangakkara’s ethos is long and uncertain. 

Sangakkara: A Legacy of Art and Soul

Kumar Sangakkara is not just a batsman; he is a reminder of cricket’s capacity to evoke emotions, to create moments of beauty that linger in the heart long after the match is over. His batting was a rare confluence of skill and soul, artistry, and intellect. 

Sir Neville Cardus would likely have written of him what he once said about Frank Woolley: “His immense power is lightened by a rhythm which has in it as little obvious propulsion as a movement of music by Mozart.”

Sangakkara’s story is not one of statistics but of the romance of cricket—a romance that reminds us why we fell in love with the game in the first place. And as he steps away, cricket romantics are left not with emptiness, but with gratitude for the artistry he brought to their lives. 

In a world increasingly practical and devoid of poetry, Kumar Sangakkara stands as a testament to cricket’s enduring soul.

 
Thank You

Faisal Caesar 

Begum Khaleda Zia: A Legacy of Resilience, Vision, and Sporting Evolution

The name of Begum Khaleda Zia evokes the image of a pioneering leader who defied expectations to leave an indelible mark on the political and sporting history of Bangladesh. Once a shy housewife during the transformative years of her late husband, President Ziaur Rahman, she emerged as a symbol of courage, resilience, and leadership in times of adversity. Her journey, marked by determination and vision, is not only a political saga but also a narrative of socio-cultural transformation, with sports as one of its vibrant chapters. 

A Reluctant Leader Turned Political Titan

The tragic assassination of Ziaur Rahman in 1981 plunged the Bangladesh Nationalist Party (BNP) into turmoil. Many doubted its survival, but Begum Zia, with no prior political experience, rose to the occasion. Against the backdrop of a challenging political landscape, including the autocratic rule of General Ershad, she displayed an indomitable spirit that inspired millions. 

Her unwavering resolve culminated in the downfall of Ershad's regime and her historic election as Bangladesh’s first female Prime Minister in 1991. Beyond the political triumph, her tenure marked a decisive shift in the national consciousness, as she prioritized nation-building with a focus on health, education, and socio-economic progress. 

The Unsung Architect of Bangladesh’s Sporting Renaissance

While her political achievements are widely acknowledged, Begum Zia’s influence on Bangladesh’s sporting infrastructure is less frequently celebrated. Her vision and initiatives transformed sports into a unifying force and laid the groundwork for Bangladesh’s emergence on the global stage in multiple disciplines. 

The Rise of Cricket: Laying the Foundations

Begum Zia’s foresight identified cricket as a burgeoning passion among Bangladeshis. Her administration actively fostered the sport, creating opportunities for exposure and competition that would later propel Bangladesh into the international arena. 

In 1992, she championed the inaugural South Association for Regional Cooperation (SAARC) Cricket Tournament, envisioning it as a platform for Bangladesh to showcase its cricketing potential. Although the tournament faced initial setbacks, its successful staging in 1994 marked a turning point. Iconic moments, such as Bangladesh’s narrow victory over India and spirited performances against Pakistan A and Sri Lanka A, captured the imagination of cricket fans and affirmed Bangladesh's readiness for the international stage. 

The mid-1990s saw a series of international tours to Bangladesh, including visits from Zimbabwe and Pakistan, providing invaluable experience for the national team. Her administration also decentralized cricket, fostering its growth across the country and paving the way for the establishment of cricket academies, school tournaments, and new stadiums in Khulna, Bogura, and Fatullah. 

Under her leadership, Bangladesh's cricketing infrastructure matured, setting the stage for later triumphs, including the Tigers' first Test and ODI series victories and memorable wins against cricketing giants like Australia and India. 

A Multidimensional Sporting Vision

Begum Zia’s influence extended beyond cricket to encompass football, athletics, chess, hockey, and shooting, among other sports. 

-  Football Revival: A passionate supporter of Brazil and Mohammedan Sporting Club, Begum Zia played a pivotal role in reinvigorating football. Despite FIFA’s temporary ban on the Bangladesh Football Federation in 2002, her government’s swift actions led to its reinstatement, fostering a renewed focus on youth development. The results were evident when Bangladesh won the SAFF Championship in 2003 and finished as runners-up in 2005. 

- South Asian Games: Her leadership ensured the successful hosting of the 1993 South Asian Games, making Dhaka the first city to host the event twice. Bangladesh’s athletes excelled, securing multiple medals and demonstrating their potential on a regional stage.  

- Chess and Shooting Excellence: Grandmasters like Ziaur Rahman and Rifat Bin Sattar emerged during her tenure, while Asif Hossain Khan’s gold medal in the 2002 Commonwealth Games highlighted Bangladesh’s growing prominence in shooting. 

- Infrastructure and Decentralization: Beyond nurturing individual talent, her administration focused on developing sporting infrastructure, ensuring opportunities for grassroots participation and regional representation in various disciplines. 

Balancing Legacy and Future Challenges

Begum Khaleda Zia’s contributions to sports were part of a broader vision to galvanize national pride and unity. She recognized that sports could transcend political and social divides, inspiring a generation to aspire for excellence. Her initiatives were not mere political gestures but deliberate efforts to build a foundation for long-term success. 

However, sustaining this legacy requires continued investment, policy focus, and a commitment to nurturing talent across disciplines. The advancements in cricket and football, while significant, must be paralleled in other sports to ensure a holistic sporting ecosystem. 

A Legacy Beyond Politics

Begum Khaleda Zia’s journey from an unassuming housewife to a trailblazing leader is a testament to resilience and vision. Her tenure as Prime Minister not only shaped the political and economic landscape of Bangladesh but also redefined its identity as a sporting nation. 

Today, as Bangladesh celebrates its successes on international stages, from cricket stadiums to shooting ranges, it owes much to the foundational work laid during her leadership. Begum Zia’s story is not just one of political triumph but of a nation’s awakening to its potential, driven by the unifying power of sports. Her legacy reminds us that true leadership transcends politics—it touches every facet of national life, leaving a legacy of hope, pride, and progress.     

Thank You

Faisal Caesar 

Sri Lanka’s Masterclass in Galle: Herath’s Redemption and Chandimal’s Chaos

A Turnaround Written in Spin

Not long after chasing 377 with an air of ease against Pakistan, Sri Lanka returned to an older, more familiar script—transforming a modest target into a mountain. On the fourth day at Galle, the script was executed to perfection. India, beginning with nine wickets in hand and needing just 153 to win, were undone by the relentless guile of Rangana Herath and the youthful vigour of Tharindu Kaushal.

The 192-run first-innings deficit was not just overturned—it was alchemised into victory. Excluding forfeitures, this was the eighth-highest deficit ever turned into a Test win, and it came with a distinctly Sri Lankan flavour: runs in the bank, clever in-and-out fields, and spinners unerringly landing the ball on a postage stamp.

The Fortress Breathes

Galle International Stadium—open, breezy, flanked by fort walls and an indifferent sea—felt claustrophobic for India on that final day. Twenty-four hours earlier, they were near-certain victors. But a sequence of events, starting with Dinesh Chandimal’s counterattack and India’s stubborn resistance to the DRS, had reversed the emotional momentum. By the fourth morning, a sense of inevitability hung in the air: Sri Lanka would make them toil for every run.

Instead of grafting, India collapsed—recording their lowest total against Sri Lanka.

The Old Master’s Spell

Herath, omitted from the previous match and anonymous in the first innings, summoned a spell of rare vintage. Fighting sore knees and a complaining back, he bowled as though the years had reversed. In an 18-over marathon, interrupted only by lunch, he conceded just 35 runs and took six wickets.

Each dismissal was a study in variation:

Ishant Sharma—lbw to one that might have struck outside the line.

Rohit Sharma—bowled, stranded beside the ball’s turning arc.

Wriddhiman Saha—lured down the track, beaten by flight and dip.

Harbhajan Singh—caught pad-bat, the ball kissing both surfaces.

R Ashwin—holing out in a desperate counterattack.

Ajinkya Rahane—edged to slip, the last bastion breached.

Herath’s bowling was not about unplayable deliveries alone—it was about suffocating pressure. Every over was a net closing in.

The Supporting Cast

Dhammika Prasad and Nuwan Pradeep, though wicketless in that decisive phase, softened India’s resistance. They probed relentlessly outside off, especially against Shikhar Dhawan, who—batting with a bruised hand—adopted discipline over adventure. Yet this discipline turned to stagnation, and stagnation to errors.

Kohli’s dismissal, prodding far in front of his body, epitomised the batting lapse. Dhawan’s own end came via a soft leading edge after an ill-conceived sweep change. From 45 for 4, the slope steepened rapidly.

Chandimal’s Day of Anarchy

If Herath’s spell was a symphony of control, Chandimal’s innings the day prior was pure chaos jazz. Arriving when Sri Lanka teetered, he lashed sweeps and reverse-sweeps against the turn, struck Ashwin past cover, and clobbered Harbhajan for six. He made 51 of the last 65 runs scored by Sri Lanka, all while Galle’s backdrop played its own percussion: election rally speeches, sea winds, bus horns, and kite-flying children.

It was cricket as street theatre—noise, unpredictability, and audacity.

Herath’s Redemption Arc

For eighteen months, whispers had grown: Is Herath done? Figures like 1/99 and 1/154 fed the narrative. But this was a man forged in resilience—summoned back into the Test side after playing club cricket in England, often overlooked for flashier, mystery spinners.

His victory was as personal as it was national. This was the Herath who, in 2011 Durban, willed Sri Lanka to victory; the Herath whose craft lived in the subtleties, whose career was a testament to squeezing every ounce from modest natural gifts.

“Being dropped is my bread and butter,” he quipped afterwards, smiling as if adversity were just another opponent to outlast.

An Ending with Memory

When the final wicket fell, it was not just India’s chase that had ended, but a narrative that had threatened to define Herath’s twilight years. In Galle, he reminded cricket that greatness can be quiet, and redemption can be slow-burning—but when it arrives, it can suffocate as thoroughly as a perfect spell of left-arm spin.

Thank You 

Faisal Caesar

A Case for the Dukes Ball: Bangladesh’s Tactical Opportunity Against Australia

In the ongoing Ashes series, Australia’s performance has been a sobering spectacle. At Cardiff, Edgbaston, and Trent Bridge, a formidable English attack, armed with the ever-deceptive Dukes ball, dismantled the Australian batting lineup with surgical precision. The moving ball became Australia’s nemesis, exposing the limitations of their antipodean technique and unravelling their mental fortitude. 

The Dukes ball, with its pronounced seam and lasting durability, has emerged as the protagonist in England’s triumphs. Ricky Ponting, one of Australia’s most revered captains, succinctly captured the predicament, stating: 

 "One thing I am going to recommend as soon as I get home is that we actually change the balls we use in Australia. I think we should be using Dukes balls in Australia now. It’s been highlighted enough times that we struggle when the ball swings and seams.” 

Ponting’s statement underscores an essential truth: the Dukes ball has the potential to redefine contests, especially against teams unfamiliar with its nuances. This begs a question for Bangladesh, as they prepare to host Australia in October: *Why not use the Dukes ball to level the playing field?* 

Bangladesh’s Emerging Pace Arsenal

Bangladesh, once stereotyped as a spin-reliant team, has undergone a quiet revolution in its bowling department. A new crop of pacers—Mustafizur Rahman, Rubel Hossain, Taskin Ahmed, and Mohammad Shahid—has brought balance and dynamism to the attack. These bowlers are no longer mere custodians of the new ball, waiting for the spinners to take over; they are match-winners in their own right. The days of Bangladeshi pace bowling being an obligatory act are over. 

Against India and South Africa, the Bangladeshi pacers showcased their potential, striking gold with intelligent use of seam and swing. With Australia’s recent struggles against the Dukes ball in mind, deploying it could give Bangladesh a crucial edge. 

The Case for the Dukes Ball

Traditionally, Bangladesh has used either Kookaburra or SG balls in its domestic and international fixtures. The Kookaburra, with its flatter seam and shorter lifespan, favors batting once the initial swing fades. The SG ball, predominantly used in the subcontinent, is more conducive to spin and reverse swing but lacks the pronounced movement of the Dukes. 

The Dukes ball offers a unique blend of attributes: 

1. Pronounced Seam: Ideal for generating movement off the pitch, even on slower or abrasive tracks. 

2. Durability: Unlike the Kookaburra, the Dukes retains its hardness and swing potential well into the innings. 

3. Reverse Swing: Its construction facilitates reverse swing, a potent weapon on dry subcontinental wickets. 

Critics argue that the Dukes ball is less effective in dry conditions, but recent evidence contradicts this notion. In the West Indies, under Curtly Ambrose’s guidance, Caribbean pacers exploited the Dukes ball to tell effect on dry and flat surfaces. If West Indies pacers could harness its potential, there’s no reason Bangladesh’s attack cannot. 

Strategic Considerations

Introducing the Dukes ball against Australia would be a bold departure from the convention for Bangladesh. However, it would align with a tactical approach that prioritizes exploiting the opposition’s weaknesses. 

Australia’s struggles with swing and seam are well-documented. Their batsmen, accustomed to the Kookaburra’s predictable trajectory, have faltered against the Dukes, which demands precise footwork and mental discipline. By adopting the Dukes ball, Bangladesh could force Australia to confront their Achilles’ heel in unfamiliar conditions. 

Moreover, this shift could provide invaluable experience for Bangladesh’s pacers. Learning to extract the full potential of the Dukes ball would not only benefit them against Australia but also enhance their skills for future challenges. 

A Tactical Opportunity, Not a Tradition

This proposal is not about permanently replacing the Kookaburra or SG balls in Bangladesh cricket. Instead, it is a calculated move for a specific series—one that leverages the conditions, the opposition’s vulnerabilities, and the strengths of Bangladesh’s attack. 

The question now is whether the Bangladesh Cricket Board (BCB) is willing to challenge convention for the sake of strategy. By opting for the Dukes ball, Bangladesh could tilt the scales in their favour, making the upcoming series not just a contest, but a statement of intent. 

Conclusion

Bangladesh cricket stands at a crossroads—a team no longer content with being the underdog, striving instead to forge its identity among cricket’s elite. Using the Dukes ball against Australia would be a symbolic and practical move, signalling that Bangladesh is ready to innovate and compete on its own terms. 

The Dukes ball is more than a weapon; it is a test of adaptability and ambition. The time has come for Bangladesh to embrace it, not as an experiment, but as a calculated step toward rewriting their cricketing narrative.

Thank You

Faisal Caesar 

To a Champion of Australian Cricket

 

Dear Michael Clarke,

The late 1980s marked an extraordinary period in cricketing history—a time of uncertainty and transformation for Australian cricket. It was during this era that I became an ardent admirer of the game’s enduring qualities, especially those embodied by the Australian cricket culture. Under the steady guidance of Allan Border and the astute mentorship of Bob Simpson, Australia rebuilt itself from the ashes of mediocrity. They rekindled a lost ethos, a culture of resilience, adaptability, and unrelenting ambition. This foundation not only defined Border’s era but also became the cornerstone for the golden reigns of captains like Mark Taylor, Steve Waugh, and Ricky Ponting. 

I was privileged to witness this rise—an evolution that transformed Australia into a global cricketing powerhouse. The never-say-die attitude, the ruthless precision in execution, and the relentless hunger to dominate left an indelible mark on cricket’s history. These qualities weren’t merely inherited; they were cultivated through a robust cricketing culture that valued excellence, temperament, and technical finesse. 

In 2004, when I watched your maiden Test century against India, I saw in you the embodiment of that legacy. It was not just the mastery with which you handled Anil Kumble and Harbhajan Singh, but the audacious flair and confidence with which you came down the track, dismantling their spin attack. Your innings of 151 was more than a personal milestone; it was a declaration of Australia’s unyielding spirit—a message to the cricketing world that here was a future great, destined to carry forward a rich tradition. 

Over the years, you became a stalwart—a leader whose steady hand guided the team through fluctuating fortunes. Your captaincy began at a time when the invincibility of Australian cricket had started to wane. Yet, under your leadership, the team found moments of redemption: a series win in Sri Lanka, the dramatic resurgence to reclaim the Ashes in 2013, and the ultimate triumph at the 2015 World Cup. These victories underscored your resolve and your commitment to the values that define Australian cricket. 

However, the journey wasn’t without its trials. By 2013, teams like India, South Africa, and England had exposed vulnerabilities within the Australian ranks. Those defeats, though painful, seemed temporary—challenges to overcome rather than signals of decline. And indeed, you led a remarkable revival. Your efforts to steer the team back to prominence were nothing short of heroic, especially given the physical toll your back problems exacted. 

Yet, as I reflect on the events of 2015 and your sudden decision to retire, I am filled with a deep sense of disquiet. The Ashes defeat in England was undoubtedly a bitter pill, a moment that rattled the core of Australian cricket. But for you to walk away at such a juncture seemed out of step with the very ethos you so often exemplified. Australian cricket, as I have come to know it, thrives on resilience—on facing adversity head-on, refusing to yield until the battle is truly lost. 

Your departure felt abrupt, almost un-Australian in its timing. You had weathered storms before, so why not this one? Was there not another chapter to write, another mountain to climb? Your continued presence, I firmly believe, could have steadied the ship during these turbulent times. It could have served as a bridge, easing Steven Smith into leadership while allowing the team to regroup and rebuild. Instead, your absence left a void, one that could have been filled with your wisdom, your grit, and your unshakable belief in the Australian way. 

I cannot ignore the critics who might argue that your decision was prudent or inevitable. They might point to the toll of captaincy or the personal sacrifices it demanded. But to me—and perhaps to many others—you still had so much to give. A leader of your calibre, forged in the crucible of one of cricket’s richest traditions, does not leave the stage without a final act of defiance, a statement that adversity is merely an opportunity in disguise. 

Australian cricket still needs you. 

With unwavering admiration and respect, 

A Cricket Fan from Bangladesh  

Thank You

Faisal Caesar