Sri Lanka cricket; revolving rather than evolving
Those three defeats denied Sri Lanka the chance to defend a title won only two years earlier. More damaging than the results, however, was what followed. Once again, Sri Lanka Cricket (SLC) revealed how little it understands elite sport, long-term planning or even the fundamentals of professional governance.
This was not merely a tournament loss. It was a defeat that sparked a system-wide upheaval barely months before a World Cup. Backroom staff were reshuffled. New faces were parachuted in. Selectors were replaced. A captain was removed. Such chaos ahead of a major global event is unheard of in world cricket. You will not see Australia, England, India or even Pakistan dismantling their cricketing structures weeks before a World Cup. SLC, though, has never subscribed to best practice. It chooses panic over planning, impulse over intelligence and optics over outcomes.
While coaches, selectors and the captain were swiftly discarded, the SLC Executive Committee and its CEO remained untouched. No questions asked. No accountability demanded. The collapse of the men’s team, the stagnation of the women’s side and the mediocrity of age-group cricket have all unfolded under their stewardship. Yet responsibility is always pushed downward, never upward.
Sri Lanka cricket now mirrors its leadership. Inconsistent, erratic and fundamentally unreliable. One day they produce a stirring win against a heavyweight. The next, they collapse meekly against a side ranked near the bottom. This is not unpredictability. It is instability.
What we are left with is a team selected as the best of the worst. A group of players who appear to wear the national jersey as an entitlement rather than a privilege. Cricket is no longer the obsession. It is an accessory to a lifestyle. Luxury cars, penthouse apartments, tattoos worn like badges of honour and Instagram-ready celebrations have replaced hunger and humility. They seem to know everything except how to win consistently.
Consider Maheesh Theekshana. His wicket celebration resembles an archer more than a cricketer. Perhaps competitive archery would suit him better. At least then the gesture would match the profession. For a bowler entrusted with controlling the middle overs, the real mystery is not how he celebrates wickets but how rarely he delivers them when it matters.
Then there is Kusal Mendis. A decade into international cricket and still labelled a player of “potential”. Ten years. In that time, players around the world have debuted, matured, dominated, declined and retired. Sri Lanka, meanwhile, continues to grope in the dark, hoping for a breakthrough that never arrives. Potential is not a lifetime contract. Eventually, it must translate into performance or expire.
The captaincy saga neatly captures the dysfunction. Dasun Shanaka is back as T20 captain, replacing Charith Asalanka. Asalanka certainly did himself no favours. His tantrum in Pakistan over security concerns during the Tri-Series raised eyebrows. His muddled bowling changes during the Asia Cup cost Sri Lanka momentum. His batting has declined. But he was appointed with a long-term vision. This World Cup was meant to be built around his leadership. But he was sacked just weeks ahead of the global showpiece.
Who made these calls? Was it the selectors, a panel of former players clinging to outdated thinking? Or was it board officials determined to remove Asalanka regardless of logic? Selection committee member Tharanga Paranavithana stated openly that they want Asalanka the batter more than Asalanka the captain. Fine. Then explain Dasun Shanaka.
What, exactly, has Shanaka done in recent times to justify not just captaincy but his place? How many matches has he won for Sri Lanka with bat or ball? On Wednesday, the so-called specialist power hitter walked in at number eight. Number eight. The captain, sent so low because he struggles against leg spin. This is leadership? This is courage? This is international cricket reduced to parody.
The coaching carousel is no better. Lasith Malinga was brought in on a short-term assignment to work with the fast bowlers. His arrival was sold as a magic solution. The outcome was predictable. Nuwan Thushara, a bowler with a similar action, was taken apart by Pakistan’s batters (31 runs off 12 balls). The issue is not Malinga. It is the absence of any long-term planning.
A power-hitting coach, Julian Wood, was recruited to address Sri Lanka’s most glaring weakness. The results were truly groundbreaking. Eleven boundaries and two sixes in 19.2 overs in a must-win match. A remarkable transformation. Wood has now vanished from the backroom staff as well. Sri Lanka has hired yet another Indian coach to do the same job. Different face, same confusion. Is there any coherent logic behind these appointments, or is it all trial and error fuelled by blind hope? Rane Ferdinands was brought in as National Spin Bowling coach but we have Sachith Pathirana working with the national team. Logic at its best?
Sri Lanka cricket is not evolving. It is stagnating. Expectations have sunk so low that fans now applaud the team for “losing with a fight”. Winning has become optional. Qualification feels aspirational. Semi-finals belong to another era.
This is a proud cricketing nation reduced to celebrating effort. A country that once intimidated the very best now merely hopes to avoid humiliation. Since 2015, Sri Lanka has not reached a semi-final of a major global tournament. A decade of irrelevance. While the rest of the cricketing world has surged ahead with data, fitness, depth and planning, Sri Lanka remains trapped in nostalgia and excuses.
It is time the Ministry of Sports demanded accountability from the hierarchy of Sri Lanka Cricket. They have presided over this decline longer than anyone. Yet accountability seems unlikely. Meanwhile, the game crumbles quietly. But who cares? That is Sri Lanka cricket today. Changing the curtains while the house collapses.