Blast, Fear, and Cricket Sri Lanka’s Rawalpindi showdown
It was supposed to be just another One-Day International in Rawalpindi–the usual noise, and competition between two neighbours bound by history, heartbreak, and cricket. But on Tuesday, as the Sri Lankans played Pakistan, a suicide blast just a few kilometres away from the stadium turned a cricket series into a diplomatic crisis. Twelve people were killed, 27 more were injured, and within hours the echoes of that explosion had reached the dressing room. Fear replaced focus.
By Wednesday morning, the Sri Lankan cricketers, led by skipper Charith Asalanka, made their stance clear, they no longer felt safe and wanted to return home. The tour hung in the balance. What followed was long hours of negotiation, emotion, and tension that would test not only the team’s unity but also Sri Lanka’s credibility as a cricketing nation.
Pakistan Cricket Board chief Muhsin Naqvi gestures as he thank the Sri Lankan cricketers and the management team - AFP
For Pakistan, this wasn’t merely about one tour. The scars of March 3, 2009, when the Sri Lanka team bus was ambushed in Lahore, injuring six players and ending international cricket in Pakistan for nearly a decade, are still raw. When Sri Lanka bravely returned in 2019 to resume tours, it was hailed as a gesture of friendship and trust. Pakistan never forgot that.
So, when news broke that the Sri Lankan players now wanted to withdraw after the Islamabad attack, it wasn’t just a logistical setback. It was a potential diplomatic disaster. The financial blow to the PCB and broadcasters was secondary, the real damage would have been symbolic. It would have sounded a death knell for Pakistan’s hopes of hosting full-fledged international cricket again.
Inside the Sri Lankan camp, the mood was uneasy. Sanath Jayasuriya, the head coach, acted swiftly, raising the team’s concerns with the authorities. The players wanted a dedicated lift at the hotel and wanted to be away from other guests at the hotel. These may seem minor on paper, but in an atmosphere clouded by fear, every detail mattered.
Pakistan’s Interior Minister and PCB Chairman, Mohsin Naqvi, swung into action. He held emergency meetings with the Army Chief, the Sri Lankan High Commissioner, the Sri Lanka team manager and defence officials, guaranteeing “fool-proof” security. The assurances were conveyed to the team management early Wednesday morning. The management were convinced.
By 2:30pm, the Sri Lankan team management gathered the players. Jayasuriya and team manager Mahinda Halangoda spoke candidly, explaining the situation, the precautions taken, and the broader implications.
“You are not just cricketers,” Jayasuriya reminded them. “You are ambassadors of your country.”
But even as the words echoed, the players remained unconvinced. Their families were scared. This was their main reason. When the President of Sri Lanka, Anura Kumara Dissanayake, got involved and directed his Defence Secretary Sampath Thuyacontha to intervene, there was hope of resolution. Pakistan’s Army Chief personally assured the highest level of protection. Yet, when the players reconvened, their decision was unchanged–they wanted to go home. Sixteen players had already sent messages expressing their desire to withdraw. Not that everyone was on the same page as those leading the ‘revolt’, but they did so to keep team unity. It appeared inevitable that the series would collapse.
At this point, Sri Lanka Cricket (SLC) intervened. President Shammi Silva joined a video call with the team. He wanted the players to continue the series as Pakistan had promised the safety of the players and when the players reiterated their stance of wanting to withdraw, the exchange was far from diplomatic. He asked the team manager to “send those who wish to go home immediately”, but with repercussions to follow.
Sensing the gravity of the situation, Mohsin Naqvi decided to intervene again. Accompanied by high-ranking military officials, Pakistan team captains, and the Sri Lankan High Commission staff, he arrived at the team hotel. It was a rare show of statesmanship and sensitivity, the kind of gesture that underlined Pakistan’s desperation to preserve trust. Jayasuriya, ever the diplomat, explained the players’ concerns and reiterated satisfaction with the overall security arrangements.
“But it’s up to the players to decide,” he added cautiously.
Naqvi promised further measures, VVIP security, cleared roads during team movements, even the option of emptying the stadium and moving the team to a different hotel. Still, Asalanka’s position remained firm. Their families, he said, were terrified.
Tickets were soon booked and seven cricketers–Charith Asalanka, Wanindu Hasaranga, Asitha Fernando, Kamindu Mendis, Sadeera Samarawickrama, Jeffrey Vandersay, and Maheesh Theekshana were all set to fly out of Islamabad at 3:00am on Thursday as the first batch. Back in Colombo, selectors worked frantically to assemble an alternate squad.
The list was long, from seasoned hands like Dinesh Chandimal, Niroshan Dickwella and Kusal Janith Perera to young hopefuls like Vishen Halambage and Garuka Sanketh. The message was clear, SLC was ready to move on, with or without its current team. By then SLC issued a statement saying that if anyone returned home, be it players or support staff, they would face action as they felt that there was no reason to panic when there was government assurance.
Then, unexpectedly, the tone shifted. Players demanded written assurance from SLC regarding their safety and SLC complied, adding an extra layer of assurance. Jayasuriya again gathered the squad, asking them if the latest measures changed their minds. A few nodded. Some wavered. The room, once filled with resistance, began to soften.
Perhaps it was the realisation that leaving now may brand them as deserters or maybe it was the presence of a replacement squad ready to fly out, a silent warning that their careers could be at stake. Whatever the reason, the players finally relented. By late night, the team agreed to stay on and complete the series, avoiding a major diplomatic crisis. Pakistan breathed again. The PCB swiftly revised the schedule, expressing gratitude to Sri Lanka for standing by them.
In 2022, Australia toured an economically and politically devastated Sri Lanka - File pic
To the outside world, this might seem like a crisis averted. But within cricketing circles, it was a revealing moment, one that exposed a troubling fragility within Sri Lanka’s modern setup.
Cricketers, as Jayasuriya rightly said, are not just athletes. They are ambassadors of their country, representatives of its resilience and spirit. In 1996, when the civil war and bomb blasts plagued the island nation, it was Pakistan and India who stood shoulder to shoulder with Sri Lanka, sending a combined team to play in Colombo after Australia and the West Indies refused to tour. That goodwill gesture carried symbolic weight; it told the world that terrorism would not dictate the game’s destiny.
The players’ fear was understandable but their decision, had it stood, would have been indefensible. Safety concerns are non-negotiable, yes, but when guarantees are given at the highest level, by governments, armies, and cricket boards alike, there must be a sense of honour and responsibility. There were speculations of a third-party influence on player decisions and SLC should investigate whether there was any influence.
In the end, reason, and perhaps a dose of fear, prevailed. But it shouldn’t have come to that. The players should remember that when they wear that lion flag on their chest, they don’t just represent a team. They represent a nation’s soul. And that, above all, demands courage, especially when it’s hardest to find.