Sanath Jayasuriya: authored the sort of innings that Indians fans have come to dread © AFP Enlarge

The empty seats at the Premadasa Stadium this afternoon said much about the dress-rehearsal mood that hung around the place. With Sri Lanka already in the final, and with Muttiah Muralitharan and Chaminda Vaas missing, even avid punters with Sri Lankan flags suggested that India were favourites to pull off the win that they needed to keep Pakistan out of Sunday's summit meeting.

The more cynical - and you find them in plentiful number in this part of the world - suggested that Sri Lanka wouldn't try too hard, with an India - Sri Lanka final being the only opportunity for a sell-out crowd. One of the bellboys at my hotel even suggested that Inzamam-ul-Haq's mournful face after the win over India was an indication that even the Pakistanis knew how the bread would be buttered.

The buzz inside the ground was nothing like what it had been on Sunday, when Indian and Pakistani fans - a colleague suggested that the vast majority were Muslims from the Maradana suburb of Colombo, rather than those who had flown over - created a carnival ambience underpinned by the usual rivalry. The new atmosphere of détente meant that passions smouldered where they once blazed, and the sight of a turbaned Indian fan and a Pakistani counterpart stopping to shake hands in the midst of running around waving their respective flags said much about the thaw, a consequence of the Pakistanis' gracious hospitality not so long ago.

Bob Woolmer enjoyed his first ringside view of sport's most intense rivalry, except for the trumpets - "They nearly blew my ears off" - and those noisy instruments, when not handled by geniuses like Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie, were to the fore again today. And while the tunes came thick and fast, five cheerleaders - the Dallas Cowboys girls they weren't - sporting red T-shirts that read S-E-R-V-O, an, erm, automobile lubricant, danced manically but with little cohesion. Next to them, Percy Abeyasekhara, a dozen sheets to the wind and almost as much of a celebrity as the players themselves, took a breather, rousing himself only for the odd colourful ditty.

On the upper tier, a bunch of Indian supporters came to life briefly when Yuvraj Singh started piercing the field with ease in the latter stages of India's innings. But someone had forget to tell them that slogans that alluded to India and curry and sorry were woefully out of sync, as was doing the Conga - a song released when mullets (shudder!) were still in fashion.

A middle-aged woman wearing a Denver Broncos cap - she had never heard of John Elway or the Mile High Stadium, a tribute to the power of sports merchandising - chanted "India, India" with considerable fervour until Sanath Jayasuriya punctured her feel-good bubble with his savage assault on Zaheer Khan. One of her companions, looking like she'd just stepped off an Armani ramp-show, clearly wasn't too stressed, preferring to check out her nails. Presumably, this is the new market that the all-powerful television networks are catering to.

Above the Premadasa, the skies were as clear as could be, a subtle reminder that weather forecasts aren't something to plan your day around. As a clearly desperate Indian side gained the ascendancy, with Sachin Tendulkar tossing up a peach to flummox Mahela Jayawardene, even the band stopped playing on, except in fits and starts.

It was then that Jayasuriya authored the sort of innings that Indians have come to dread, and by the time he departed to a tired slog, the cheerleaders and trumpets were back in the swing of things. When Zaheer Khan bowled Farveez Maharoof with a yorker, one of the volunteers cockily told me, "This one, miss, next ball six". He didn't get his wish. With the Lankans chanting "Zoysa, Zoysa" to offset the cries of "India, India", Zaheer held his nerve to end the innings with a dot ball. A thrilling climax, but it was impossible to overcome the feeling that the lead players had merely mumbled their lines, aware that the director's cut was still five days away.

Dileep Premachandran is assistant editor of Wisden Cricinfo in India. The Premadasa Stadium, with its cosy ambience and Lion Beer service, is one of his favourite grounds.