Howzzat! Lanka’s match of the year is between schools

"This is the place where you can just let go and do what we want," said a senior student of Royal, clutching a blue and yellow flag, his voice hoarse with the three days of shouting and cheering and his white uniform a washing machine’s nightmare. School tradition demands that "letting go" include a recce of the girls’ school in the vicinity of the stadium, preferably in an open jeep hired after wheedling money out of friends and family. Tradition also demands that on the day before, students of both schools must paralyse evening rush hour traffic as they parade on cycles to the homes of the captains of their teams.

Students, however, were only a small fraction of the 7,000-odd spectators who showed up for the final day of the match, much higher than for any test match at the same venue. Amajority of them were "old boys" for whom the game is marginal, providing only the opportunity for a reunion. "Win or lose, we booze," said a beery Sudath, an old "Thomian". A bank employee, he has not missed one BIG match since 1978, not even after he left school in 1988. Both schools have impressive alumni, and if they are alive, nothing can keep them away from the match. J R Jayawardene, who studied at Royal, was a regular till he died in 1996. One year, Parliament declared a day off because a number of MPs wanted to be at the match.

While the two teams battle it out on the pitch, there’s a competition on in the pavilion, to see which school gets the most VIPs. This year was no different, with a good number of MPs from the ruling and opposition parties, captains of industry, senior government functionaries, judges and top brass from the armed forces showing up in strength for both schools. "This is the only time in the year I get to see my school mates, and I won’t miss it for anything in the world,"said a Brigadier, on leave from his posting in the country’s conflict zone to be in the capital for the match.