The autobiography of Mr. Ranjit Fernando, launched last month, offers a fascinating peek behind the curtain into how a clutch of Sri Lanka’s finest cricketers were groomed in their formative years. Mr. Fernando was in charge when the Sri Lanka Under-19 side toured Australia in 1984 under the captaincy of Aravinda de Silva, a team that read like a who’s who of future stars, featuring Roshan Mahanama, Asanka Gurusinha and Jerome Jayaratne among others. The Aussies had Mark Taylor, the Waugh brothers and Craig McDermott.

As Mr. Fernando kept a watchful eye on his young charges, there was mischief brewing beneath the surface. At the book launch at the Galle Face Hotel, Aravinda let the cat out of the bag. Gurusinha, it turns out, had masterminded a daring escape plan, players sneaking out through the hotel window, climbing onto the roof and sliding down a pole to freedom to enjoy the night life in Brisbane..

Mr. Fernando, ever the hawk-eyed disciplinarian, caught wind of the escapade. Yet in a twist that raised a few eyebrows, it was Gurusinha who was handed the captaincy for the next Under-19 tour to England. Some insist Fernando had missed the mischief; others, who know him better, reckon he was playing a long game, setting a thief to catch thieves, backing a natural leader who could keep the dressing room in check.

Fast forward to 1996 and Gurusinha found himself cast in a very different role on cricket’s biggest stage. During Sri Lanka’s victorious World Cup campaign, he was often seen as the quiet man at the crease, a grafter in a team of dashers. To the untrained eye, his batting seemed workmanlike, even pedestrian. Fans, spoilt for choice with the pyrotechnics of Sanath Jayasuriya, Romesh Kaluwitharana and Aravinda de Silva, wanted fireworks, not forward defence. In a line-up full of strokemakers, many wondered what Gurusinha brought to the table.

Gura was no mug with the bat. He could clear the ropes and put bowlers to the sword when the situation demanded. But in that 1996 campaign, every cog in the wheel had a purpose. His job was to drop anchor, bat time and allow the strokemakers to play with freedom around him. It was a role that demanded discipline, selflessness and a thick skin, especially when the crowd was baying for boundaries.

While others were flaying attacks and ending the careers of bowlers like Manoj Prabhakar and Richard Illingworth, Gura was content to rotate the strike, even if it meant playing second fiddle. The fans, unaware of the team’s blueprint, were not always appreciative. Their impatience did not go unnoticed.

At one point, a frustrated Gurusinha had had enough. He approached captain Arjuna Ranatunga and Manager Duleep Mendis, keen to throw off the shackles and play his natural game. But the think tank stood firm, urging him to see the bigger picture, to play for the team, not the gallery. Gurusinha bought in, rolled up his sleeves and stuck to the script. The rest, as they say, is history.

As Sri Lanka marked the 30th anniversary of that famous triumph this week, Gurusinha reflected on the campaign in an interview with the Australian Broadcasting Corporation, offering fresh insight into the tactical nous that underpinned their success.

Sri Lanka’s batting line-up featured four left-handers in the top seven, no accident, but a calculated move. The plan was clear: take on Shane Warne, Australia’s trump card and knock him off his rhythm.

The Australians had a well-worn blueprint, build pressure through dot balls, squeeze the scoring and force batters into mistakes. Sri Lanka were determined not to fall into that trap. At that stage of his career, Warne was still developing his armoury and did not possess a reliable wrong’un to trouble left-handers.

When Jayasuriya fell early in the final, the baton passed to Gurusinha. True to plan, he stepped up, using his feet, unsettling Warne and disrupting Australia’s chokehold. It was a knock that didn’t grab headlines but played a crucial hand in tilting the contest Sri Lanka’s way.

For many, the World Cup win was life-changing; lucrative contracts for players, solid match fees and financial security followed. But Gurusinha’s story took a different turn. He walked away from the game the very same year, at just 29, missing out on the financial rewards that came in the aftermath.

Cricket, however, remembers more than just numbers and pay cheques. It remembers moments, roles played under pressure and men who put the team before self.In that sense, Asanka Gurusinha remains what every great side needs but few celebrate, the glue that held it all together. An unsung hero, in every sense of the word.

by Rex Clementine