One of the golden vintages of Sri Lankan cricket spanned the years between 2009 and 2014. It was an era when the national side punched above its weight and danced with giants on the world stage. With stars like Kumar Sangakkara, Mahela Jayawardene, Muttiah Muralitharan and Tillakaratne Dilshan in full flow, Sri Lanka stormed into four World Cup finals, conquered new frontiers – including their first-ever series win in Australia – and stood toe-to-toe with India and England in all formats.

Behind the scenes, cricket brains like Aravinda de Silva and Sanath Jayasuriya chaired selection panels, while Marvan Atapattu added tactical brilliance in the coaching corner. At the helm of administration was the ever-dignified Anura Tennakoon, a former captain himself. It was a well-oiled machine taking Sri Lanka to dizzying heights.

And then there was Mahindananda Aluthgamage – the Sports Minister of the time – trying to pad up and take credit. He seemed to fancy himself a major stakeholder in Sri Lanka’s success story.

While he mostly kept his nose clean during his sports tenure despite a few no-balls, it was his later stint as Agriculture Minister that finally landed him in hot water. Last week, he was remanded in connection with the import of a questionable consignment of organic fertilizer from China in 2021. The courts will now decide whether his innings crossed the line.

Having observed him closely during his time as Sports Minister, it was clear that he was forever flirting with the line outside off stump. Known to be easily misled by opportunists whispering sweet nothings in his ear, Mahindananda often ended up wielding the axe against men who minded their own business.

Take the saga of Kumar Sangakkara – then the captain and a colossus of world cricket. Sanga was needled many times. His tipping point came in 2011 when he delivered the MCC Cowdrey Lecture at Lord’s. The speech earned a standing ovation. The late Vijaya Malalasekara, himself moved to tears, was one of many who walked away feeling proudly Sri Lankan that evening.

But not everyone was pleased. Mahindananda cherry-picked a few lines from the lecture and demanded a probe. SLC President Upali Dharmadasa was told repeatedly to call for an explanation from Sanga and either fine or suspend him. Eventually, he met Sanga over dinner. When Sangakkara inquired what penalty was in store, Upali, with a smile replied, “Just pay the dinner bill.” It was a deft stroke of statesmanship that averted an international scandal and preserved Sri Lanka’s dignity.

Ironically, Sanga would later go on to become the first non-British President of the MCC – a role Upali seemed to foresee, though it clearly eluded Mahindananda’s radar.

Mahindananda did have his moments. One of his finest came when the Hambantota stadium – planted deep in President Mahinda Rajapaksa’s electorate – was at risk of missing the ICC’s construction deadline. With the ground half-baked and time running out, Mahindananda rolled up his sleeves, camped at the site for two weeks and supervised the work with military precision. The ICC, during their second visit, gave the green light. It was a major victory and Mahindananda’s stock soared with the Rajapaksas, who until then had seen him as a Chandrika loyalist.

But that high was short-lived.

Lavish infrastructure projects – Hambantota, Pallekele and the revamped R. Premadasa  – left Sri Lanka Cricket bankrupt. They couldn’t pay players, coaches, or staff. State-run entities like the Ports Authority and State Engineering Corporation, who constructed the venues, never saw their dues. In the end, the loans were written off, and the taxpayer was left to foot the bill. Mahindananda should have got into trouble then.

Worse still, just as a probe into these shady dealings was about to commence, sensitive files vanished from SLC offices and CCTV footage went missing. It was as if a ghost had pulled off a perfect heist between overs.

Then came his most outlandish delivery: claiming the 2011 World Cup final was fixed. He alleged that four last-minute changes were made to the playing XI. But the truth was far less dramatic – Sri Lanka had announced their team a full two days before the final, with all national dailies carrying it. Aravinda de Silva, then Chairman of Selectors, called for an ICC probe. The Anti-Corruption Unit led by Alex Marshall, ex-Scotland Yard, found no foul play. Mahindananda, by now short on credibility, was left with egg on his face. This newspaper in an editorial summed it up, “A bull in a China shop is less troublesome than Mahindananda.”

Under his watch, sport became a political puppet show. Elections to national sports bodies were stage-managed. Even clubs weren’t spared. Colts Cricket Club’s magnanimous president K. Mathivanan was gently nudged out to make room for a government-friendly face. Havelock SC, across the road, suffered a similar fate when it came to rugby. Mathivanan, fearing for his business, stepped aside. Others who resisted were silenced.

To be fair, not all of it was Mahindananda’s fault. Then President Mahinda Rajapaksa’s three sons had their fingers in several sporting pies and at times, the Sports Minister was merely fielding at third man, not able to call the shots.

Yet, he can’t be absolved. He filled the Cricket Board with Royal College old boys, used parliamentary privilege to sling mud at respected administrators and allowed cronies to wield undue influence. Some of those administrators still serve in sport. Mahindananda, on the other hand, is now watching the game from the sidelines – behind bars.

His mouth often moved faster than his mind. When he declared IPL players must return early for the England Test series, it sounded like music to patriotic ears. But India flexed its muscle and he was forced to backtrack. Unbeknownst to him, SLC had already granted No Objection Certificates. The Minister had no clue – a classic case of playing the wrong line.

Yet, he wasn’t all bluster. Fluent in Sinhala, Tamil and English, he mingled easily with the public, wore his Royal tie with pride and was present at nearly every funeral of a sporting figure. He burned the midnight oil for causes he believed in and these gestures did not go unnoticed.

But when you play fast and loose, take blind swings and trust the wrong dressing room whispers, the scoreboard eventually catches up. He may have escaped a few stumpings as Sports Minister, but his high-risk innings in agriculture has finally seen the bails come off.

by Rex Clementine ✍️