End of another chapter
As it has done for centuries, the ancient Dutch Fort stands guard over the Galle Cricket Stadium, where dreams are born and bittersweet retirements are commemorated. Just earlier this year, Sri Lankan opening legend Dimuth Karunaratne drew the curtain during his game against Australia. Soon, we will witness the end of another era, as Angelo Mathews prepares to close the chapter on his Test career at the same venue that had welcomed him as a starry-eyed rookie 16 years ago.
From his debut at the Galle International Stadium in 2009 until his pending retirement, Mathews was one of the few constants in Sri Lankan cricket’s last decade of tumult. Through retirements, rebuilds, controversies and comebacks, he was a steadying presence. His records speak for themselves: 8,167 Test runs at an overage of 44.62, 16 centuries, 33 wickets with the ball, and over 430 international matches in all forms. And behind those numbers is a story of perseverance, unyielding commitment, and a fierce love for game and country.
There is a sadness surrounding his retirement. Mathews is likely leaving the format with one regret: missing the elusive 10,000-run mark. A feat achieved by only two Sri Lankans—Kumar Sangakkara and Mahela Jayawardena—Mathews had seemed poised to enter the club. Cruelly, however, injuries plagued his career since 2015, robbing him of valuable months of cricket. The shrinking Test calendar of countries outside the “big three” also denied him the platform to achieve what had seemed to be his due.
Mathews’ cricketing story began long before his debut in international cricket. A talented youngster from St. Joseph’s College, Colombo, he captained the Sri Lanka U-19 side and was impressive on the ‘A’ tours. Later, Head Coach Chandika Hathurusinghe famously lobbied for his early promotion to the senior side, and in 2009, Mathews was thrust into the limelight. In the same year, at the ICC T20 World Cup semi-final at The Oval, he set the cricket world abuzz by annihilating the West Indies top order with a fiery spell of three for 16.
He was identified as Sri Lanka’s Jacques Kallis—a fast-bowling all-rounder who could balance the side abroad and dominate at home. With his initial promise, electrifying fielding, and relaxed demeanour, the prophecy seemed true. But fate had different plans.
Mathews’ Test debut came a fortnight after his T20 heroics at the Oval, and it did not take long for the world to take notice of his temperament. Calm under pressure, technically sound, and mentally resilient, Mathews proved himself equal to the demands of Test cricket. His first major disappointment came later in the year in Mumbai when, on 99 and with only tailenders for company, he attempted a risky single and was run out. He walked off in utter dismay before what would have been his maiden Test hundred.
As a batsman, Mathews was a technician with a streak of grit. He was a master of the waiting game. When Sri Lanka needed solidity, he provided it. His epic 160 at Headingley in 2014 to clinch a historic series victory in England is one of the finest overseas innings by a Sri Lankan. It was a masterclass in defiance.
His leadership, too, was characterised by maturity beyond his years. Thrust into captaincy in 2013, when the team was transitioning, Mathews had the tall order of rebuilding after Sangakkara, Jayawardena, and Dilshan. Under his watch, Sri Lanka won their first Test series in England and proceeded to whitewash Australia 3-0 at home—a feat the country had never achieved before or since. Captaincy, however, came at a cost. Politics, selection chaos, and mismanagement blighted his time. He was removed, reinstated, and removed again—the tale of many a Sri Lankan captain. But Mathews didn[t show bitterness. He just kept playing.
Mathews’ record in ODIs is equally commendable: 5,196 runs, three hundreds, and countless innings of import. He was a middle-order pillar who had the ability to hold an innings together or accelerate when necessary. His ability to read a game, rotate the strike, and hit the big shots made him a gem. But he was unceremoniously left out of the limited-overs squads in recent years. There was an uproar. But again, Mathews did not make a fuss. He just waited patiently for another opportunity.
And he still says: “While I bid adieu to the Test format, as discussed with selectors, I’ll remain available for selection in the white-ball formats, if and when my country needs me.”
The hunger endures but whether he will wear the national colours in white-ball cricket remains uncertain.
Fitness was always an issue. Critics accused him of not pushing himself enough, of letting injuries control his career. But only a few witnessed what he did behind the scenes–the time spent in the gym, the mental grind and dealing with recurrent injuries.
All careers must come to a close. Mathews has decided to retire from Tests, but he leaves a void that numbers cannot fill. He has talked of wanting to mentor youngsters. “Cricket has given me everything”, his retirement statement said. “Now I want to give back”.
His parting, like that of Dimuth Karunaratne, is a stark reminder of the poor health of Test cricket. Sri Lanka have only four Test matches this year. In 2026, Sri Lanka will play only six Tests. The format is getting pushed to the sidelines, particularly for sides outside the power hubs. For someone like Mathews, who made a career out of the demands of Test cricket, it is a cruel irony.
Galle will applaud him next month. There will be cheers, tributes, and perhaps tears. But Mathews, ever composed, will smile, bow his head, and walk away—quietly, with grace.
On those who have watched him grow, fight, and triumph, Mathews has left an indelible impression. A player who never lusted after the spotlight, yet always warranted it. A man who met boos and cheers with the same calm dignity. His legacy is not in the runs he scored or the games he won—it’s in the number of times he kept a collapsing innings together, the times he stood firm while everyone else failed.
Mathews didn’t just play for Sri Lanka. He fought for it. He stayed when he could have gone. He fought when he could have given up. And he served when he was repeatedly let down. That, perhaps, is the truest measure of a hero.