THE BIGMATCH OF 1925 BY J.R. JAYAWARDENE
12.30 p.m. on Wednesday, March 18th. Twenty two
"flanneled fools" are waiting expectantly for the fall of the coin.
"Heads! we've won," says Chippie Gunasekera and decides to bat on a
perfect wicket. The wicket is fast, very fast, and the first few
wickets including the Captain's fall quickly. 3 for 12; cheer after
cheer from the Thomian tents. The Royalists are by no means silent,
and with a feeling of conscious superiority cheer in reply.
Goonewardena joins Lieversz and the score rises steadily.
Hurrah ! for the Mary,
Hurrah! for the lamb,
Hurrah! for the Royal boys
Who do not care a - - - -.
Ah, here comes a band of adventurers dressed In
fancy costume, and with careful consideration for the spectators
hiding their faces behind masks. Ragtimes, songs, anthems are sung.
once, twice, thrice and then over again with variations; the
elasticity of the human mind Is never more clearly demonstrated.
4 for 55.
Joseph and Lieversz are batting. The revellers
are neglected; they In time forget their audience; all eyes are
centered on the field. "Six! well played, Joe!", a thousand voices
shout together. The score is rising rapidly. Side attractions are
forgotten, for is not Joseph approaching B. T. Jansz* record of 103.
"Hurray! Hurrah!" yells, hoots, bells, horns sound together. The
record is broken. Joseph scores faster; 4, 1,4, I, 6, 2; 113 in 65
minutes. He is out and carried shoulder high by friends and foes
alike. Lieversz with the "lion-heart" plods on characteristically.
He has scored 15 while Joseph scored a century. But what of that;
who will deny the courage, the test match temperament which enabled
him to break the bowling at a critical stage and with Goonewardena
to open out the way for the brilliance of Joseph.
6 for 209, Lieversz is out. The tall wags
wearily and Royal is dismissed for 240 runs.
The Thomian batting does not impress us much.
Our attention is again distracted. Here comes "The Medicoes." They
are less boisterous than in former years. Conscientious beings, In
view of the impending examinations, they do not wish to expend their
scanty brain power in reciting parodied songs. A few placards, dirty
with constant use, remind us of many home-truths. "We are women
haters," "Strong are we in mind and body," are prominently
displayed. With three cheers for the ladies, these hardened
bachelors depart. "Well bowled!" Perera bowls Kanagasabai the
Thomian skipper and cricket again holds our attention. 6 for 68, a
few more runs and stumps are drawn for the day. The huge crowd
surges over the field. The news boys shout, "Photos of the teams!
Photos of the teams for sale." The dear boys have been seen enough
by flappers and old maids alike, and the response to these shouts is
not encouraging either to the sellers or to the handsome
countenances of the cricketers. All is silent. Six crowded hours of
glorious life are over.
Another day destined to be full of memories has
dawned. The Thomians continue their first innings; runs come In
slowly, wickets fall fast, to the cheers of the Thomians and the
counter cheers of the Royalists. A few minutes more and the 6 for 68
of the previous evening is now 10 for 94. Entertainments and
side-shows again attract us.
Omne bene
Sine poena
Tempus est ludendi
Venit hora
Abscim mora
Domum redlendi.
The "Bullock boys" singing a plaintive-strain
are dragged round the grounds in a bullock I cart by a half-starved
cow. They carry the Thomian "ashes" in a violin case. The
inaudibility of the sweet strains we generally associate with violin
and musicians, is no doubt in this particular case due to this fact.
The colour of the ashes makes Lord Hawke who was present at the
match exclaim, "What black fellows these Thomians must have been."
Bus loads of boys, car loads of men drive round and round the field
of play; a few optimists drive off at a tangent and collide with the
ever closed gates of St. Bridget's Convent. "O infelices puellae,"
hearing but unable to join In the riot of fun outside your walls.
The Thomians follow on with 146 runs to avert
an innings defeat. The start is sensational. In the first over
Ratwatte snicks a ball high into the slips, a bundle of arms and
legs leaps in the air, and Ratwatte is caught Joseph, bowled
Goonewardena. The scoring is slow but steady. 3 for 37, 4 for 67.
Goonewardena's bowling nips fast off the pitch to the discomfort of
many a batsman. 6 for 117. Can the Thomians avert an innings defeat?
The tea interval subdues our conjectures and
attracts our attention otherwise. Refreshments are served with
careless generosity. Mothers, fathers, brothers and especially
sisters are treated with due consideration. The Royalists are
jubilant; the Thomians are busy entertaining the Royal team in their
tent. Everywhere signs of gorging are visible.
Here they come at last.
The Royalist skipper "with a tummy, nice and
fat" - strong evidence of the Thomian endeavours to curb his catlike
agility on the field - leads out his team. Salvoes of cheers, and
cheers again. The youngsters refreshed by drinks and filled with
patties cheer every ball bowled and every run scored. The Thomians
have partaken of an injudicious tea: 6 for 117, 7 for
117, 8 for 117, was there ever a more miserable tail. The Thomian
efforts to fatten the Royalists have been of no avail, they are more
active as the wickets fall. "Innings it shall be" says Chippie.
"Certainly," encore the rest. The Royalist supporters cheer the
practical demonstration of these sentiments.
9 for 138.
Eight runs more. "Buck up Royal!" "Come on
School!" "Play up St. Thomases!" "Glve us a game, give us a game St.
Thomases"; in such pregnant phrases the two teams find consolation.
A few balls more, and Goonewardena, the hero of the day breaks
through Barber's defence. 10 for 138. Royal, by an innings and 8
runs has avenged last year's defeat.
Bedlam is let loose. The heroes are carried
shoulder high. Indescribable scenes of enthusiasm follow. "Die hards"
in fancy dress. "Medicoes", "Bullock Boys", "Mustangs" all unite and
dance a war dance round the field. Cars of all shapes and sizes,
mechanical contrivances and cars' in embryo are requisitioned to
carry the teams and the other enthusiasts to the pictures and on
other jovial excesses. The Tent secretaries are missing from these
jolly groups. Search is made immediately for them. Why there they
are still in the tents. One of them a rotund youth of unusual
proportions is sleeping on a row of chairs. The other one, there are
two you know, these happy animals always hunt in couples, with a
pattie in one hand, a cake and a sandwich in the other, is enjoying
himself Immensely under a large table. They are carried bodily away
from their scene of triumph, hoisted on a car and the merry groups
continue their interrupted adventures.
J. R. JAYEWARDENE
