by Rex Clementine

The proposed new constitution for Sri Lanka Cricket is now in the public domain and has understandably become the talking point among stakeholders of the great game. There is considerable excitement that the new constitution could usher in an era of professionalism and accountability in cricket administration. Inevitably, there are also parties with vested interests painting a grim picture. Their warnings need to be taken with a generous pinch of salt.

One of the most significant proposed changes is that cricket officials will function essentially as a Board of Directors, responsible for policy and strategic decisions, while the day to day running of SLC will be entrusted to a qualified Chief Executive Officer and other professionals chosen through a rigorous screening process.

For years, SLC’s chief executives have come from cricketing backgrounds. There is nothing inherently wrong with that, but the proposed structure allows the net to be cast much wider. It opens the door for an accomplished corporate professional to run the organisation, helping SLC keep pace with the increasingly sophisticated manner in which cricket boards around the world operate.

The appointed directors, too, will largely come from corporate backgrounds, with a renowned former cricketer also among them. More importantly, the proposed structure creates the possibility of someone of the calibre of Roshan Mahanama or Kumar Sangakkara becoming Chairman of the Cricket Board, a scenario virtually unimaginable under the present electoral system.

Will a new board or a revamped electoral process transform the fortunes of the national team overnight? Certainly not. Constitutions do not score hundreds or take five wicket hauls. What good governance can do, however, is create the platform from which a stronger Sri Lankan team can emerge.

One of Sri Lankan cricket’s biggest self inflicted wounds came about a decade ago when SLC expanded the First Class competition to as many as 25 teams. Quantity overwhelmed quality and the competition became hopelessly diluted.

The current administration has now trimmed the First Class competition to ten teams and upgraded matches from three days to four. Such sweeping reform would have been extremely difficult under an administration dependent on club votes. Asking elected officials to reduce the number of voting clubs is rather like asking turkeys to vote for Christmas.

That has been the fundamental weakness of the system.

Administrators elected to office have traditionally followed one cardinal rule: keep happy the member clubs, provinces and district associations that vote them into power. In doing so, they have often been reluctant to take the bull by the horns and make difficult decisions in the wider interests of Sri Lankan cricket.

Merit, too, has not always been the only consideration when positions have been handed out. A recent independent assessment found that several coaches employed at district and provincial levels were simply not up to the required standard. When favouritism creeps into professional appointments, cricket inevitably pays the price.

The new constitution should probably have arrived a decade ago. Sadly, successive governments since 2016 lacked the political will to confront the deep rooted problems afflicting cricket administration.

Both the SLFP and UNP have proud links with the game, with party stalwarts ranging from J.R. Jayewardene to Lakshman Jayakody having served cricket with distinction. Yet when reform was desperately required, successive governments turned a blind eye and sided with the elected office bearers running the show.

Dayasiri Jayasekara, Faizer Mustapha, Harin Fernando and Namal Rajapaksa all served as Sports Ministers during this period. Yet, despite the national team’s fortunes steadily deteriorating, meaningful structural reform remained elusive. Some ministers even strengthened the hand of elected officials by extending Shammi Silva’s term limit or permitting Extraordinary General Meetings and Special General Meetings that consolidated his authority.

The public, meanwhile, grew increasingly frustrated with the direction in which the game was heading. Of those former Sports Ministers, Dayasiri narrowly survived to secure a seat in the present Parliament, while the others were rejected at the polls. Namal Rajapaksa subsequently returned to Parliament through the National List.

Credit, therefore, must go to the NPP government for displaying the political will to tackle an issue successive administrations preferred to kick down the road.

The proposed reforms appear to have struck a responsive chord with a large section of cricket loving Sri Lankans. There will be debate, opposition and inevitably legal scrutiny. That is healthy. Once the Supreme Court has made its observations and Parliament has had its say, Sri Lankan cricket will hopefully have a governance structure fit for purpose.

No constitution can guarantee runs, wickets or trophies. But it can ensure that the people making decisions are accountable, qualified and free from the obligation of keeping a voting bloc sweet.

Sri Lankan cricket has waited far too long for that change.

Better late than never.