To, Tuan Dilshan – Captain, SLC
When the match stops for tea
On the 3rd day, with only
Mathews and Mahela on the way
Of an Australian win,
The camera turns on him, in the pavilion,
Stretching his arms: yawning.
A captain can be guaged from the
Way he plays:
Attapattu and Mahela — cautious,
Hashan — defensive, Arjuna — wily,
Sangakkara — pompous.
Chandimal on the 90s, with
Sri Lanka 12 to get in 21 or so.
Mathews trying to save the runs
For the kid to have a go, as
You watch — from the balcony —
Piss shooting from your eyes.
You cut a ball on the line of off stump,
Drive on the up, foot stuck in the crease.
Follow it up with a text book square drive,
And the next — you scoop behind with hurtless ease.
Frown at the bowler from backward of square
Hands on your hips, without a care for the world.
Arms folded, weight on the table,
Post-match media session, telling
Them what’s in the ready made speech:
That you got to re-group and learn the lesson.
You — unpredictable, unschooled bat,
For whom are lessons, then: why don’t you ask the world?