Almost 30 years ago today, India and Pakistan formed a combined cricket team to take on Sri Lanka ahead of the 1996 Cricket World Cup in an unprecedented moment of unity in the sport’s history.

The two age-old rivals put aside their differences and came together in an act of solidarity to support a fellow South Asian team, who faced the threat of match boycotts in a tournament they had battled hard to host.

India versus Pakistan is the most highly marketed fixture at every multination tournament – the World Cup, Asia Cup or Asian Games – whether it’s a men’s, women’s or Under-19 event.

Few sporting events globally carry the weight and anticipation of an India-Pakistan cricket match. So, when Pakistan’s government ordered its team not to face India at the ongoing T20 World Cup, the tournament was briefly pushed into a state of chaos.

It also left Sri Lanka, the designated host of the fixture, holding its collective breath.

A week of negotiations led to a dramatic late U-turn by the Pakistani government and the match will now take place as scheduled on Sunday at the R Premadasa International Cricket Stadium in Colombo.

But what if the boycott had gone ahead? The impact could have been catastrophic, not just for Pakistan, but also for the International Cricket Council (ICC), as well as Sri Lanka.

With the crisis seemingly averted, the island nation stands poised to reap the benefits in its financial landscape, diplomatic standing and community.

The tourism and hospitality industry was one of the hardest hit during Sri Lanka’s financial meltdown and this match will see an enormous influx of fans from India and Pakistan coming into the country.

Hotels in and around Colombo were fully booked out well ahead of the tournament but the industry braced itself for heavy losses after Pakistan threatened a boycott.

“There’s been a massive impact since the boycott was announced,” Sudarshana Pieris, who works in Sri Lanka’s hospitality sector, told Al Jazeera.

“All major hotels in Colombo were fully booked by Indian travel agencies well ahead of the match and once the boycott was announced, we lost almost all of those bookings,” he said.

“But after Pakistan reversed their decision, hotel room rates shot up by about 300-400 percent at five-star establishments in Colombo.”

It’s not just hotels but several other local businesses – from street vendors to high-end restaurants – who are hoping for an increased footfall and spending over the weekend.

These short trips and the experiences they offer could influence visitors to extend their stay or return to Sri Lanka on holiday, long after the game has ended, in a potential long-term benefit to the industry.

Another relatively underestimated impact of the game would be the employment opportunities it creates, albeit temporarily, in the media, event management, security and transportation industries.

Asanka Hadirampela, a freelance journalist and broadcaster currently working as a Sinhala language commentator for the World Cup, recognises the marquee match as a great opportunity from a personal standpoint.

“This is my first World Cup as a broadcaster,” Hadirampela said.

“The India-Pakistan fixture is the biggest and most-watched game of the tournament. So to get to work on such a match is exciting and I consider it a special achievement.”

The lines are always blurred between sport and politics in South Asia.

So while the financial gains are expected to be significant, the fixture’s impact on the region’s geopolitical environment cannot go amiss.

Pakistan’s boycott, too, was explicitly political, as confirmed by the country’s Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif when he said that they were offering support to Bangladesh after the Tigers were kicked out of the tournament by the ICC.

The reversal of Pakistan’s decision, which they said came after requests to reconsider the boycott by several regional “friends”, was steeped in politics, too.

Sri Lanka’s President Anura Kumara Dissanayake reportedly had a phone conversation with PM Sharif, urging his government to rethink their decision to boycott the game as the successful staging of this encounter would not only position Sri Lanka as a capable host of global sporting events but also reinforce its standing as a neutral mediator in a region fraught with geopolitical complexities.

Sri Lanka and Pakistan have always maintained strong diplomatic relations, which have extended to the cricket field as well.

Sri Lanka were one of the first teams to travel to Pakistan following their 10-year ostracisation from international cricket, which came as a result of a terrorist attack targeting the Sri Lankan team in March 2009.

When Al Jazeera reached out to Sri Lanka Cricket (SLC), its vice president Ravin Wickramaratne confirmed that SLC did, indeed, reach out to the Pakistan Cricket Board (PCB) after the boycott was announced.

“We asked them to reconsider the decision,” Wickramaratne said.

“It [boycott] would have impacted Sri Lanka economically, whether directly or indirectly.

“We have always had a good relationship with the PCB and we have always supported them, so we’re happy with their decision.”

A little over 24 hours ahead of the match in Colombo, there is a sense of palpable excitement and a growing buzz around the fixture as it returns from the brink of cancellation.

As of Saturday morning, 28,000 tickets had been sold for the game but local organisers expect a capacity crowd of 40,000 to make it into the stands.

Come Sunday, thousands more will line the streets in and around Maligawatte, the bustling Colombo suburb that houses the famous Premadasa Stadium.

Well, everything about this game is big picture. If we needed a reminder of how much in cricket is sustained by this fixture, it came over the past two weeks, when it dangled over the precipice of not happening at all. The result of an India-Pakistan match might feel like it means everything, but, as the ICC view has appeared for at least the last decade and a half, it doesn’t have to mean anything at all. It just needs to happen.

And then there’s the rivalry. Indian captain Suryakumar Yadav triumphantly declared, after the second of three Asia Cup wins over Pakistan in Dubai, that this was no longer a rivalry, as if it were solely the cricket played within the boundary that had set its terms. India may now measure its cricketing standards against teams that play superior cricket to Pakistan, but crowds still pack stadiums more consistently against this side, and it draws more eyeballs than games against purportedly better competition. In Pakistan, meanwhile, there has never really been an attempt to deny that a win against India matters most of all.

Perhaps it is absence that has made Pakistan supporters’ hearts grow fonder. They have won three games against India in the past decade, and two of them have become iconic enough to be referred to in numerical shorthand. You’d need little further explanation in Pakistan beyond “180 runs” and “152-0” to know what you were talking about. But while they represent two of Pakistan’s three wins, the 17 defeats on the other side of the ledger have clustered into one sad muckheap.

There are few sweeter sights in sport than Australia being knocked off their perch. With a population no larger than Sri Lanka’s, they punch above their weight in everything from cricket to the Olympics to rugby. Success breeds envy and the Aussies have long dined at the top table. So, when they were served humble pie by Zimbabwe on Friday, there were more than a few quiet smiles around Colombo.

Australia have earned a reputation for bit of arrogance. Their delay in naming a replacement for the injured Josh Hazlewood raised eyebrows. The grapevine suggested they were backing themselves to stroll through the group stage and tailor the replacement according to oppositions in the second round. Looking too far down the track, however, is a risky business, in sport and in life. As Lord Buddha preached, live in the present. The Aussies, it seems, were already eyeing the semi-finals before surviving the preliminaries.

Now their backs are firmly against the wall. Defeat to Sri Lanka on Monday would mean curtains for the former champions. Sri Lanka themselves are walking a tightrope, one loss would leave them sweating over calculators with Net Run Rate coming into the equation.

On paper, Australia remain the superior outfit. Zimbabwe are not supposed to outmuscle them. But cricket, especially at RPS, is not played on paper. It is played on a surface that demand nous. Zimbabwe sized up conditions to perfection. Australia, by contrast, attempted to impose a brand of T20 that belongs on truer decks, see ball, hit ball, clear ropes, repeat.

That approach can be box-office entertainment elsewhere. At RPS, it is a fool’s errand.

Australia have already lost two bilateral series to Sri Lanka at this venue in the last four years. They should have known better. T20 may be a game of flair, but RPS is a theatre of graft. It demands elbow grease, soft hands and sharp cricketing brains. It is about rotating strike, playing percentages and waiting for the loose ball rather than manufacturing one. Trying to muscle every other delivery into the stands is asking for trouble and trouble duly arrived. Several Australian batters perished chasing glory shots, undone by impatience rather than skill.

Zimbabwe opener Brian Bennett offered a masterclass in tempo. His 64 off 56 balls will not feature in any highlight reel, but it was worth its weight in gold. Even after raising his half-century and with wickets in hand, Bennett refused to throw caution to the wind. No wild hoicks, no cowboy cricket. He batted deep and shepherded the innings. Once the target crept towards 170 it was game on.

There is a method to succeeding at RPS. It is not a playground for flat-track bullies. It rewards those willing to roll up their sleeves, not those swinging from the hip.

One of the so-called “big three” has already stumbled in what will go down as one of the tournament’s major upsets. Others who mistake Colombo for a batting paradise may follow.

Sri Lanka, though, will not have home advantage at RPS against Australia. Their showdown is set for Pallekele, where the ball comes on sweeter and the outfield runs like a greyhound. That is terrain Australia will relish.

But in Colombo, the lesson has been served: respect the pitch, or be prepared to eat humble pie.

by Rex Clementine