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In the midst of the varying challenges that the country had to face in recent years, cricket has been one of the areas of self-belief and hope for the citizenry. Although the record has been disappointing, the passion remains undiminished in the stands, in homes, and on school grounds across the island.

But to reduce the crisis to dropped catches or fragile batting line-ups is to misunderstand its depth. Sri Lanka’s cricketing malaise is not just technical. It is both structural and institutional.

The appointment of a cricket transformation committee, chaired by Eran Wickramaratne, therefore represents more than a routine administrative move. It is, or at least should be, the beginning of a long-overdue reckoning.

Any honest assessment of Sri Lanka Cricket must begin with its defining moment of glory—the 1996 Cricket World Cup victory under the leadership of Arjuna Ranatunga. That triumph was transformative. It elevated Sri Lanka from spirited underdogs to global champions, reshaping the sport’s geography and inspiring a generation.

Yet, in hindsight, success carried unintended consequences. Prior to that, national cricketers struggled to meet their bare expenses, requiring coaches like the legendary Abu Fuard to dip into their pockets to spend for national cricketers to travel from home for practice or for their lunch.

All this changed after the World Cup victory gave high visibility to the game. With visibility came money. And with money came a new class of stakeholders—many less interested in cricketing excellence than in financial opportunity. Over time, the administration of Sri Lanka Cricket began to attract individuals driven more by patronage than by principle.

What followed was not an overnight collapse but a gradual erosion. Governance weakened. Allegations of financial mismanagement became routine. Political interference seeped into decision-making. The boardroom became as contested as the pitch, but with far higher stakes.

The consequences have been predictable. A flawed administrative structure produces a fragile domestic system. A weak domestic system produces inconsistent national teams. The decline on the field is, in many ways, a mirror of the dysfunction off it.

What makes this crisis particularly frustrating is that the problems are neither new nor mysterious. For years, former players and administrators have identified the same fault lines.

The voting structure of Sri Lanka Cricket remains bloated and susceptible to manipulation, incentivising patronage rather than professionalism. Financial transparency has been inconsistent at best. The domestic cricket structure, fragmented and often uncompetitive, has failed to create a reliable pipeline from school cricket to the international arena.

This is what makes the transformation committee both necessary and urgent. Unlike previous reform efforts that often dissolved into inertia, this initiative arrives at a moment when public patience has worn thin. There is little appetite left for cosmetic change.

The choice of Eran Wickramaratne to lead this effort together with a healthy mix of professionals and experienced cricketing greats is, by objective standards, a sound one.

In a country where public trust in institutions has been repeatedly tested, Wickramaratne brings a rare combination of experience and credibility. His background spans leadership, particularly in banking, as well as political life. Importantly, he also possesses a personal connection to the game, having played cricket at both domestic and foreign levels. Yet it is not merely his résumé that matters. It is his reputation.

Integrity is perhaps the most undervalued and yet most scarce commodity in Sri Lanka’s public sphere today. In the often opaque and politically entangled world of cricket administration, credibility is not a luxury—it is a necessity. Wickramaratne’s appointment signals a departure from the culture of expediency that has long plagued the system.

The political dimension of this appointment has also exposed an interesting contradiction.

The Samagi Jana Balavegaya (SJB), widely accepted as the principal opposition force, has struggled to respond coherently. There is a certain irony in the fact that Wickramaratne—along with Imthiyaz Bakeer Markar, another figure associated with integrity—was not afforded a prominent role within the party by excluding them from parliamentary ranks.

In sidelining individuals of this calibre, the SJB arguably weakened its own credibility as a reform-oriented alternative. Political parties are judged not only by their policies but also by the people they elevate. On that count, the decision appears, at best, short-sighted.

More significantly, the SJB missed an opportunity in the aftermath of Wickramaratne’s appointment. Rather than reacting defensively or dismissively, the party could have framed the development as an implicit endorsement of the quality within its leadership levels. After all, if the government turned to a figure associated with the opposition to tackle a national crisis, the SJB could have argued that it was an indication that the government did not have a suitable person within its ranks to carry out the assignment. Instead, the moment passed without strategic clarity—an unforced error in a highly competitive political environment.

The task before the transformation committee is formidable and will require tackling a multitude of problems, some in the short term and some in the long term.

Financial discipline must be at the forefront. Cricket in Sri Lanka generates significant revenue, yet questions persist about how effectively those resources are utilised. Transparent auditing mechanisms and clear accountability structures are essential if public trust is to be restored.

Structural reform is equally critical. One proposal that merits serious consideration is the establishment of an independent oversight mechanism—such as a board of trustees—to supervise major financial and administrative decisions. Such a body could act as a safeguard against the excesses that have historically undermined governance.

Encouragingly, the committee does not begin from a blank slate. The recommendations of the Justice Chitrasiri Committee Report provide a detailed legal and institutional framework for reform. The challenge lies not only in drafting new proposals but also in implementing existing ones with consistency and resolve.

Then there is the question of talent.

Sri Lanka has never lacked cricketing ability. From school grounds to club tournaments, the raw material is abundant. What has been missing is a coherent system to nurture and transition that talent to the highest level. The domestic structure must be streamlined, competitive, and aligned with international standards. Without that, even the most gifted players will struggle to bridge the gap.

The establishment of the transformation committee is a positive step, but it is only that—a step. The path ahead is fraught with resistance. Those who have benefited from the existing system are unlikely to relinquish their influence without a fight.

Reform, therefore, will require not just technical expertise but political will and public support.

For years, Sri Lankan cricket fans have remained remarkably loyal, enduring disappointment after disappointment with unwavering passion. They have done their part. They have filled stadiums, backed young teams, and kept faith even when results faltered.

The responsibility now shifts to those entrusted with the game’s future.

If this moment is seized—if integrity is matched with action, and reform is pursued with courage—Sri Lanka Cricket can yet rediscover its voice. Not as an echo of past glory, but as a renewed force built on transparency, merit, and professionalism.

(javidyusuf@gmail.com)