Sri Lanka must choose: Develop or Evolve in T20s
It thrived on placement, on running hard, on choosing moments to attack. In 2014, you could still win a T20 World Cup that way. In 2025, you can’t.
The world has shifted. The format has evolved into a game where six-hitting is the currency of survival. It’s no longer about the odd flourish over extra cover, it’s about being able to launch a length ball over deep midwicket at will. Teams like England, Australia, India, South Africa and West Indies have turned this into an art form. They don’t just have one Andre Russell or one Jos Buttler, they have power down to number eight, sometimes nine. Sri Lanka, meanwhile, have been watching this transformation with the mild curiosity of a man staring at a passing train, and have paid the price for not evolving.
Kumar Sangakkara, who won that 2014 trophy on timing and technique rather than raw power, spoke with South African Heinrich Klaasen, one of the most feared strikers in T20 cricket today. For Klaasen, the idea that power hitting is all about raw muscle is just a myth.
“I’ve been working with Albie Morkel for the past couple of years just to get that swing going,” Klaasen told Sangakkara in a recent interview with Sky Sports Cricket.
“If you can nail your swing every time, even 60% contact is good enough.”
Klaasen’s drills start with low full tosses at shin height.
“This helps you feel if you’re over-striding, under-striding, or undercutting,” he says.
“Once you feel comfortable, you can hit harder and then scale it down to find the tempo for maximum power. On the crease, I try to hit a slot sweep every time to get elevation without having to dip for it. It’s all about finding your swing path”.
Everything is built from what he calls the ‘power position’. For a right-hander, the left leg clears the way, the back foot anchors, the hips stay connected, and the hands are freed to whip through. He also makes a crucial distinction. Big hitters either have raw strength or lightning hand speed. His own advantage lies in balance, rhythm, and a neutral stance that can adapt. Against spin, he’ll stand leg stump to open scoring angles. Against pace on bouncy decks, he narrows his base to stay on top of the ball.
“I’ve got a different set-up for every bowler and every wicket. It’s about feel and understanding the risks and benefits,” he said.
That last bit is where Sri Lanka have often been found wanting in recent years. Too many times, a set batter has either failed to press the accelerator when needed or has gone for broke without a plan. Klaasen’s approach is to target the right bowler, adjust for the surface, and execute without letting ego dictate the shot selection.
When he’s out of rhythm, he doesn’t try to blast his way back. He rotates strike, avoids dot-ball pressure, and trusts the power to come when it’s time. Simple. Effective. Mature.
Post-2014, the batting blueprint hasn’t evolved quickly enough. While other nations were building a lower order of multi-role hitters, Sri Lanka stuck to the notion that timing and touch were enough. Yes, timing is beautiful. Yes, touch is art. But in the modern T20 game, beauty without power gets you knocked out in the group stage.
Recognising this, rather belatedly, Sri Lanka Cricket recently brought in Julian Wood, the English coach who has spent years specialising in power-hitting development. Wood has worked with IPL franchises, England’s white-ball teams, and top players looking to add an extra 20 metres to their range.
For Sri Lanka’s current batting core, Charith Asalanka, Kusal Mendis, Pathum Nissanka, this was an opportunity. They have timing. They have strokeplay. What they don’t yet have is consistent, fearless, range-hitting capability across match situations. And they’re not alone. The skill needs embedding throughout the order, not concentrated in one or two ‘designated hitters’ who may or may not come off on the day.
This is what the 2014 side could get away with — pacing an innings, holding wickets back, and trusting experience to close out matches. The modern game doesn’t give you that luxury. The middle overs can no longer be a holding pattern. They’re where the game is set up, and if you’re not hitting sixes in that period, you’re already behind.
Klaasen’s mindset should be printed on the dressing room wall: “Stay calm, understand your game, and when it’s time to go, you’re only two hits away from where you need to be.”
It’s that clarity, married to technical repeatability, that Sri Lanka’s batting unit needs. The reluctance to adapt has already cost them. Watching other teams power their way to 180 while Sri Lanka scrape 155 and then defend for dear life has become a tired pattern. Julian Wood’s training is, frankly, as much damage control as it is ambition.
Sri Lanka don’t lack talent. They never have. Even now, they produce batters who, in full flow, can play strokes that would make any coach smile. But smiles don’t win you T20 matches anymore, impact does. You can play the most exquisite cover drive in history, but if you can’t muscle a slot ball 90 metres when the asking rate is 12, you’re obsolete in the modern game.
The challenge is cultural as much as technical. Power hitting requires the acceptance that risk is not the enemy, unmanaged risk is. Klaasen understands that. He doesn’t take on a bowler just because he feels like it, he takes him on because the match-up favours him and his set-up suits the delivery.
That is where Sri Lanka must go, from reactive hitting to calculated destruction. The 2014 team won by being the smartest side in the tournament. The 2025 team will only compete if they are both the smartest and the most dangerous.