
A few Sri Lankan fans are busy settling finances with the local musicians who had drummed support for them all through the day at the stadium and even agreed to work overtime for the noisy welcome of the victorious team at the hotel. The day’s heroes Mahela Jayawardene and Muttiah Muralitharan, who had their backs swollen after receiving several pats from their supporters, along with the rest of the team members have taken the lift and reached their rooms.
But close to the reception desk, one spots a commotion. An overview shows a head with a thick mop of intermittently dyed golden streaks surrounded by some scalps with straight, curly, blonde, brunette, jet black, graying tresses and a few with receding hairlines. Despite the fact that Lasith Malinga might was never in contention for the Man of the Match today, at the World Cup, his global appeal, that crosses age and nationality barriers, has multiplied manyfolds.
He had finished with the modest figures of 7-2-21-1, but still Malinga was one Sri Lankan who signed most autographs and posed for maximum pictures with fans, some of them even in the Aussie golden-yellow. He also had a tough time shaking off a man who seemed so indebted to the charismatic speedster that he was desperate to pass a thick wad of dollar notes into his hands.
The new pace sensation gracefully withdraws his hands, smiles, shakes his head and after the only time he disappointed a fan — can’t help with with such ungraceful gesture — walks into the lift. Just to test waters one asks the man, whose unsteady walk suggests his legs have been tied down in Red Stripes all day, if the guy in the unusual hair style and extraordinary bowling style was the Man of the Match. “He is the Man to Watch,” he replies and after that closes his eyes as if to shut off the world and recall something sublime he keeps repeating, “that over, that over…”
Despite the slur in his voice it is easy to understand what he is referring to. It was over No. 8 of the innings and the fourth and final over of that electrifying first spell by Malinga. The batsman, if at all we can say that since the wood he held in hand was virtually non-functional, facing that dream over was Ross Taylor. Experts say that one needs a good eye to face the real quicks. But during that express pace over from Malinga, who bowled round the wicket to make ball-spotting extremely complicated and exploit the blind spot, maybe it boiled down to having a good ear.
When the first three deliveries whizzed towards him, Taylor seemed to chasing the hum made by the red bullet that cut through the air. Malinga smiled and so did Taylor. Desperate to connect, one of the bright new stars on international cricket horizon made a suicidal dash down the track. But ball No. 4 was the slower one that just missed the stumps. Malinga smiled and so did Taylor . No. 5 was another short, away moving ball that missed the edge. Malinga smiled and so did Taylor. Finally, on the last ball the wood touched the leather. Taylor raised his bat in mock celebration of winning the ‘spot-the-ball’ contest in his final attempt. Malinga smiled and so did Taylor. Those smiles conveyed the helplessness of a beaten batsman and the triumph of a bowler.
When Jayawardene replaced Malinga with Dilhara Fernando, it seemed the Sri Lankan skipper’s decision was akin to a referee stopping the contest and declaring a technical knock out. It was that rare kind of wicketless over that did the maximum damage. New Zealand seemed resigned to their fate of finishing their fifth World Cup semi-final after that.
The reputation that Malinga built by those record four wickets in four balls against South Africa had been further enhanced by the Lankan strategy of putting him under wraps and unleashing him only at prime time.
But after ‘that over’ it seemed the hype around Malinga has reached cult status. With Shane Bond dropping his pace and Shoaib Akhtar out of circulation, Malinga happens to be that mandatory adrenaline-charged energetic pacer who runs in with flowing hair as the crowd chants his name. Shaun Tait was the contender as he can match the pace but his ball release and his highlight-less hair-cut is too boringly ordinary to have the pulse racing.
The boy from the Galle beach who, as a youngster, climbed coconut trees to be strong and did a river breadth to reach a cricket field, has seen it all in Sri Lanka. He has changed hairstyles, has inspired the ear-rings to reach the eyebrows and had seen kid cricketers giving headaches to coaches by going horizontal.
Today at Sabina Park one saw a few in Malinga wigs, few thinking of new piercing spots about the eye and youngsters walking out rolling their arms horizontally. In the West Indies they have even given a pet name to their new-found hero. They refer to him as Malsinga. Now one waits for the Caribbean’s highest and ultimate honour — a song dedicated to Malinga. In case the Lankan fans extend the musical contract with the local band, chances of an impromptu song at Barbados aren’t ruled out.


