WITH FEW
CHOICE OF WORDS
Royal cricket under EC de Saram's
Tutelage
Many distinguished old boys have coached Royal
at cricket. Names such as "Chippy" Gunasekera, Dr. C.H. Gunasekera,
Barney Gunasekera, Mahes Rodrigo, Gamini Salgadu, H.T. Gunasekera
and Channa Gunasekera immediately spring to mind. To that
illustrious list may be added relatively recent old boys such as
Channa de Silva, Nihal Kodituwakku, Vijay Malalasekera, Dilip
Somaratne (who coached Royal to successive victories in the early
nineties) and Nirmal Hettiaratchy. All of them were good at their
job. However, none of them had the mystique of Colonel Derrick de
Saram (aka FC, Derrick, and Colonel) whose last coaching stint with
Royal was from 1968 to 1974.
I first set eyes on the Colonel in the late
fifties at the CH & FC clubhouse, across the road from Royal's
practice turf, engaged in witty banter with fellow old Royalist, Lal
de Silva. I was intrigued by their almost courtly repartee and good
natured ribbing. Even then I was overawed by his larger than life
persona.
For the benefit of younger readers, Royal won
three of the four Royal-Thomians F.C. de Saram played in, including
the year he captained (1931). In 1931, he scored 140 and took 6 for
52 in the Thomian second innings. He played alongside luminaries
such as Barney Gunasekera, Rusell Heyn and future Ceylon captain,
Sargo jayawickrema. He was coached by "Chippy" Gunasekera, whom he
revered. He also represented Royal in rugby and tennis, was head
prefect, and took out the Dornhorst Prize for the most outstanding
student. He went on to represent Oxford, and was the fourth Asian,
and first Sri Lankan, to obtain a cricket blue from one of the
prestigious universities of Britain. He also obtained a tennis blue.
In 1934 he scored 128 out of a total of 218 against the touring
Australians. He turned down an invitation from the MCC to tour the
West Indies in 1934-5. When he retired in 1957, he had scored 63
hundreds representing Royal, the SSC, Oxford, the Minor Counties and
All Ceylon. In Articles 1981, when Sri Lanka gained test status, no
Sri Lankan cricketer had scored more centuries. He captained the SSC
for a long time, led Ceylon in two Gopalan trophy encounters, and in
1952 captained a combined test team vs. the MCC.
A successful coup
The Colonel's involvement in an attempt to
torpedo the ship of state in the early sixties only increased his
heroic stature. And by end of the decade he had engineered a
successful coup in wresting the Senanayake Shield from S. Thomas’.
At the end of the 1967 season Royal cricket was
in disarray after an embarrassing performance in the Royal-Thomian.
Although overflowing with talent her cricket lacked focus and
direction. Even with the best will Royal seemed unable to reverse
STC's dominance of the sixties. However, change was in the air.
Ranjit Gunasekera, one of Royal's finest
cricket minds acceded to the captaincy. John de Saram, the
master-in-charge with the Midas touch, who had, commencing with the
under XIV, brought out the best in Royal cricketers, took over the
administration of the first XI. Two former captains and a
distinguished ex Royal cricketer, persuaded the Colonel to take over
as head coach.
In 1968, for the first time in the sixties,
Royal dictated a Royal-Thomian. Royal would have won in 1970, as she
did in 1969, if rain hadn't intervened. In 1971, despite the loss of
playing time due to rain, STC hung on for her dear life. And it was
only a century by Duleep Mendis, plucked out of St. Sebastian's in
the wake of STC's loss of 1969, which enabled STC to share the hours
in 1972. Royal reverted to her dominance in 1973 and 1974.
An inspirational figure
It is easy to attribute Royal's successes to a
surfeit of talent and the luck of the toss. However, the Colonel
made a difference in little known ways. For instance, it was his
idea to reduce the number of water breaks from two to one per
session, which made all the difference in Royal-Thomians that went
down to the wire. He also saw the merit of declaring at tea on the
first day of a Royal-Thomian. The Colonel's presence was extremely
inspirational. In the first instance his reputation preceded him
and, like Churchill, he increased morale, on and off the field, even
if his advice was sometimes ignored. And like Churchill, his humour
created a wonderful camaraderie. His impact is best illustrated
through specific examples.
A magnanimous spirit
Although the Colonel was seen as a domineering
character who insisted on having his way, this was not borne out in
his relationships with Royal's captains. In fact, Royal's win over
St Joseph's in 1968 was achieved amidst a most unpleasant
disagreement between captain and coach. By close on the first day
Royal were 56 ahead. The Colonel was insistent that Royal should bat
only for 30 minutes on the second day to prevent the Josephians from
getting into a defensive mode. This went totally against the
captain's instincts who was confident that Royal's spinners would
dictate terms to batsmen intent on defence and prone to pad play.
After about an hour's play the Colonel concluded that his advice was
being disregarded and was clearly annoyed at not being consulted. He
didn't say a word except to tell the captain, after a declaration
was made with Royal 150 runs ahead, that he'd bet Royal wouldn't
win. The captain then let the team in to what was going on which
motivated the players to go flat out.
Royal eventually won by an innings and 16 runs
with half an hour to A^-^ spare. As the captain raced back to the
pavilion the first person to greet him was the Colonel who said
whilst offering his congratulations "Well, you won your bloody bet
but next time you better do as I say" or words to that effect.
The Colonel was man enough to admit to being
wrong. And I suspect that he admired those who had the courage of
their convictions in preference to those who uncritically accepted
his advice.
During a conversation held in his office along
Kanangara Mawatha in 1980, with a captain he once disagreed with,
the Colonel gleefully recollected the events of the late sixties,
and celebrated the ex-captain's defiance. The Colonel had a
rebellious streak in him and probably appreciated the same in
others. Even when he disagreed with either tactics or selections he
still supported the captain's right to have the final say. He valued
adherence to principle over personal victories. And the idea of
principle, applied to the game itself, as much as to inter-personal
interaction.
The game's the thing
Royal's defeat to Wesley in 1969 will long be
remembered long after many of her wins are forgotten. Wesley
declared at 260 for 9 and had Royal struggling at 67 for 4. The next
morning Royal struggled to avoid the follow on, rallied and declared
53 runs behind. Wesley was at one point 45 for 7 when a sitter was
dropped. Wesley eventually declared at 105 for 8. Although a token
declaration, Royal made a fist of the target of 158 in 70 minutes,
refusing to pull the shutters down at any stage of the innings,
losing the match by 10 runs in the last ball of the match.
Defeat was a poor reward for a side which took
all the risks despite being in survival mode for four sessions.
However, the Colonel was absolutely delighted with the result. In
his "choice words" as he describe his speech at the post match
dinner hosted by Wesley, the Colonel expressed few words of
commiseration to Royal, preferring to dwell on the grandeur of the
finish. A defeat was preferable to yet another draw, however
exciting. What was significant is that he never once criticised his
losing team.
The Colonel was satisfied that, as T.M.K. Samat
remarked, Royal were "near perfect" in defeat. He understood better
than anyone else the mood of the rank and file. One group of
Royalists sang the school song all the way to Town Hall much to the
consternation of Wesleyites who couldn't understand why Royal's
supporters were acting like they had won.
Anyway, the Colonel's celebration of the game
was preferable to an agonizing reappraisal as to why Royal lost. He
understood instinctively that Royal had won a moral victory. Having
lost once it would be easier to take risks in the future. Defeat was
no longer a stigma, particularly if it was entered into
magnanimously. By teaching us that playing the game was more
important than winning, he brought us closer to victory.
Dismissing Dijen
If any proof was needed of the Colonel's
consistency of attitude it was in his reaction to his son's
dismissal in the second innings of the 1969 Royal-Thomian. T.M.K.
Samat sub headed his article on the first day of the 1968
Royal-Thomian as 'Royal Coach F.C. de Saram has a problem - "How to
get my son out'" No one came close to Dijen's ability to save games
for St. Thomas'. When he dug in wild horses couldn't dislodge him.
Time and time again Dijen stood between STC and defeat, and Dijen
rarely let his team down.
In 1968 Royal dismissed Dijen for 23, but not
before he and Kariyawasam had seen STC avert the follow on. In the
final session of the 1969 Royal-Thomian Dijen had to see his team
through the remaining 100 minutes to close. It was a situation
tailor made for Dijen who played the familiar back to the wall role
to perfection. For 42 minutes, he and Wijesooriya successfully
negotiated every wile Royal came up with. It took something
exceptional to dismiss Dijen in the nick of time.
Although the belief that the Colonel schemed in
his son Dijen's dismissal can be disputed, what is revealing is his
willingness to be seen as the instrument of his son's dismissal.
Although, he would no doubt have been proud if Dijen had forced a
draw, he relished those subliminal moments which elevated the game,
often at the expense of school and kin. Hence, his delight in
Royal's loss to Wesley and his son's demise two week's later. Just
as much as he reinterpreted the meaning of failure, seeing merit in
Royal's loss to Wesley, he saw no disgrace in his son's dismissal to
a magnificent catch. I'm certain that if STC had beaten Royal in
1969 in a close game, he would not have felt let down and rued the
sporting declaration. What disappointed the Colonel was cricket that
wasn't played in the right spirit and which lacked ennobling
qualities. To him a single moment of gallantry was worth a hundred
paltry actions. The Colonel reinterpreted the meaning of failure,
which was less to do with defeat in the statistical sense but an
unwillingness to play bravely.
That Colonel persona
The Colonel inspired Royal's cricketers, not by
stirring speeches or stern admonishments, but through the force of
his puckish personality. His reputation had a demoralising effect on
the opposition as he sat outside the dressing room, especially in
home games. To quote "The sometimes ironic or caustic comments he
would deliver in that plummy Oxbridge drawl were never unpleasant
and rarely directed at the opposition. Yet they would surely have
had an impact." With him around Royal always appeared to have more
tricks up her sleeve than she actually had.
The Colonel even kept the umpires on their
toes. Observed the master-in-charge "Many a time when Royal was
chasing a target and the umpires seemed to be savouring their
tea-time patties and cake too deliberately, a puzzled glance
accompanied by a puff of thick cigarette smoke in their direction
would generally send them scurrying for their white coats."
Outside interference in team selection is the
bane of school cricket administration. The Colonel nipped such
attempts in the bud. To quote "Most importantly, for a harried
'cricket master', the Colonel's mere presence effectively snuffed
out any efforts by fond parents to press their sons' claims for
selection. The occasional pestiferous old boy anxious to pontificate
on tactics used in the previous week's game suffered even shorter
shrift."
A loyal soul
The Colonel has often been portrayed as a
martinet who was bent on dominating those around him. However, he
was more often hurt than hurtful.
The disappointments of the 1969 season prior to
the Wesley game, took its toll on one and all. Wrong signals were
sent to the Colonel who threatened to resign if the captain no
longer welcomed his presence. He was making certain that his hurt
was recognized because, not only did he accept the captain's
apologies, he later threw his support behind the captain on a matter
they didn't see eye to eye on.
In 1975 the Colonel was eased out of the
coaching role. He paid the price for supporting the Royal captain's
right to the ultimate say in selection matters. If the captain caved
into the pressure to modify the make up of the team, he would have
let his players down. Despite having his prefect's badge withdrawn,
the captain, with the backing of coach and master-in-charge, ensured
that eight regular freshers received colours. Between the Royal-Thomian
and the limited over game the Colonel was sacrificed to appease the
thwarted conspirators. For the second time in six years he had stood
up against outside interference in the running of the team: this
time he paid the price.
An incomparable wit
Even those at the receiving end of the
Colonel's barbed comments
considered it a badge of honour and gleefully
recount them to this day. S. Thalayasingam, who fielded at first
slip, had the safest pair of hands in the business. Yet, the Colonel
remarked that the only reason he held on to his catches was because
he was too slow to get out of the way. The chronicler was once
compared to a member ofGhandi's non-violence resistance movement on
account of his passive approach to batting. Ajit Pasqual, Royal's
captain of 1973, was wont to exclaim "Shall we?' when calling for a
run, to which the Colonel remarked that these words were only
appropriate on one's wedding day. These are just three examples of
his keen wit. There are no doubt many more gems which other Royal
cricketers of the era will testify to.
A flair for mischief
Prabodha Kariyawasam, ex-Thomian skipper,
recalls an occasion in the early 70s when former Thomian opening bat
Ajit Jayasekera had come to meet him at the SSC along with his
girlfriend Jacintha whom he later married. When Kariyawasam
introduced the lady to the Colonel, the latter queried "Ajit, is
this the same girl I was introduced to a few weeks ago?" There were
the red faces all around at this display of his irrepressible wit.
This takes me back to the moment at a party hosted in 1970 by
Royal's vice-captain of 1969 prior to his departure to the U.K.,
when the Colonel repeatedly asked of a perplexed host "Who are you?'
In 1968 the Colonel sat next to the chronicler
on the benches of the Royal gym as the captain unveiled the game
plan. While the captain held forth the Colonel alluded to a bruise
he had incurred in a recent game for the SSC. While all eyes were on
the captain he proceeded to drop his pants and display the said
bruise. The chronicler, to whom the Colonel's remarks were directed,
was extremely embarrassed as he tossed between loyalty to his
captain and acknowledging his coach's "revelations".
However, the best example of the Colonel's
mischievous wit occurred in 1970 when he arranged a pre big-match
pep talk to Royal cricketers Articles at the bar of either the SSC
or the golf club. Not soon after ordering a round of soft drinks he
announced that it was time for a "Pee". He then made his way to the
toilet followed by the players irrespective of whether they had the
same need as him or not, because they felt to do otherwise would be
tantamount to an act of insubordination.
A sturdy character
I have been told that the even after a hard
night the Colonel was up early to attend to a case. Apparently, on
one occasion while driving out of his house at first light he passed
his son Dijen returning home after post-cricket match revelries.
Leading by example
The Colonel wrote at least one book on cricket
technique. A series on cricket technique by A.V. Fernando which
appeared in the Times of Ceylon in the sixties was illustrated by
photographs of the Colonel (and C.I. Gunasekera). However, unlike
Mahes Rodrigo and Channa Gunasekera, who were still close to their
prime, and were wont to pad up at practice, the exemplary facets of
the Colonel's batting technique were rarely observed in the flesh.
Royal beat St. Sebastian's by an innings in a
1967 third term fixture with hours to spare and were preparing to
take an early mark when the Colonel decided to hold a practice
session in the middle. Further he padded up and gave us the first
glimpse of what we had only read about. He showed us what his fabled
back foot technique was all about. Unless the ball was a half-volley
he went on his back foot and monitored the movement of deliveries
before hitting them on the rise. Even at 55 years of age the Colonel
had so much time to negotiate the likes of Chris Chitty, Jayantha
Kudahetty and Nisal Mendis, whom he made look ordinary. Many of
Royal's batting maestros of the forties admitted to inheriting their
back foot technique from him.
A shrewd tactician
On the 12th & 13th of February 1977, the
Colonel showed that he
was not an armchair captain. He led the SSC in
a two-day Donovan final against the Sebastianites, led by Gerald
Mendis (brother of Duleep). SSC declared at 303 for 7 and dismissed
the Sebastianites for 299. The SSC opening bowlers were getting
blitzed but the Colonel shuffled the bowlers so skillfully that
after the openers departed, no one was allowed to settle down to a
long innings.
When ex-Thomian captain Kariyawasam was first
given the ball by the Colonel in an SSC game, he was set two short
legs. After an over the Colonel realised that the off-spinner's
deliveries were not turning but drifting with the arm. Said he "Son
from now on you will be Toshack" and shifted the short legs to the
off side where four catches were snapped up in the newly constituted
cordon. Concludes Kariyawasam to whom Toshack could well have been a
new brand of whiskey - "Be it a field placing, a bowling change or a
psychological remark while crossing for the batsman to hear, FC was
a master tactician" (1999 Thomian cricket souvenir).
Just like the Don
Because Don Bradman and Len Hutton were so
defined by their cricketing prowess, their respective skills on the
piano and dance floor were little known. Likewise, the Colonel was a
virtuoso in classical piano. He was best known for the French
National Anthem which he could sing and play flawlessly. He, along
with another famed pianist Robert de Saram, provided accompaniment
to the Royal choir every Sunday, unfailingly.
The Colonel would never miss a concert of the
famed duo Rohan and Druvi de Saram, his nephews. Apparently he was
wont to carry a hip flask to those concerts and would sit through
them to the end with a glass of brandy in his hand.
The Colonel was too modest to bring attention
to his commendable skills on the keyboard. He preferred to project
an image of a jovial cricketing intellectual, raconteur and lawyer.
However, the sensitivity that he often showed and his delight when a
game of cricket reached subliminal levels, must have owed much to
his artistic temperament.
During the period he was behind bars the
Colonel studied Buddhism under the patient tutelage of Sylvia
Gunatilleke (now in her eighties and able to confirm the classes).
This is another instance of the cultural sensitivity which he
carefully concealed.
An honorary Thomian
In the ultimate analysis the Colonel belonged
to St. Thomas' as much as to Royal. Because his son represented STC,
the Thomian cricketers of that era would have been more familiar
with his residence at 5th Lane, than their Royal counterparts. And
of course, he became an honorary Thomian by coaching STC from 1976
until his death in 1983 at the age of 70.
Eardley Lieversz
Four former Royal captains and one former
Thomian captain provided me with invaluable insights on FC and took
time to examine my draft article. They are Ranjit Gunasekera (1968),
Ajit Pasqual (1973), Sam Lawton (1974), Prasanna Kariyawasam (1975),
and Prabodha Kariyawasam (1969 - 1970 Thomian captain). Sahadevan
and Jayendran Thalayasingam, who represented Royal between 1967 and
1971), FC's son Dijen (Thomian cricketer, 1967-1969) and
daughter-in-law Chantal, were delighted to share their memories of
FC. Dr. Prakash Nayagam and Prasanna Mendis assiduously researched
various publications for information on FC's career. Tisara
Gunasekera provided a valuable spectator's perspective on the 1969
Royal-Wesley game. This article would never have got off the ground
but for the encouragement of John de Saram, the master-in-charge of
Royal's first eleven from 1967-8 to 1972-1973, who, befitting
someone who was more closely associated with FC than any player,
provided invaluable and brilliantly articulated insights into the
persona of FC, which I have used verbatim. Paras I to 3 on page 7
are all his. And many thanks to the incomparable T.M.K. Samat whose
evocative prose enables one to recapture times gone by with
freshness and clarity.
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