Tour Diary

I took out time yesterday to go to the SSC and watch cricket. Well that’s what I'm on tour for, right?

But this wasn’t an international. This was Ten Sports Thunder versus Sri Lankan journalists, and it was like something out of Marcus Berkmann’s Zimmer Men.

The teams have arranged to play on the proper SSC pitch. This isn’t a practice ground. It’s the real deal. There are first-class umpires in proper attire. Players from both sides, in various shapes and sizes, are practicing their batting, bowling and fielding. You can immediately tell who’s played to a certain level and who hasn’t.

When their job begins, that’s normally the cue for people to change channels, start typing furiously, or go get a coffee and cigarette. Their work is not always applauded but really should be. Rain or shine, their work goes on.

I’m talking about the groundstaff who have been kept busy since 3.15 this afternoon at the R Premadasa Stadium in Colombo. A 20-minute downpour then forced them into action and they’ve been busy since. At 4.54 a three-minute passing shower lashed across the ground as the group of roughly 100 young men was starting to remove covers off the outfield.

This time I tried observing them as attentively as possible. A key part of their job is anticipation and for the most part on this short tour I’ve noticed the groundstaff at venues is very good at knowing when a shower is approaching. This group never for a second lost enthusiasm for what is a high-pressure and strenuous job. Running through rain in slippery conditions dragging heavy covers – 12 of them, estimated at 100 feet by 40 feet - is no easy task but these guys go at wholeheartedly.

Touring in foreign countries where security limits your mobility to hotel premises pushes the thresholds of boredom. Perhaps in homage to New Zealand stars of yesteryear, such as Richard Hadlee and Jeremy Coney, or perhaps because the enchantment of being cooped up in their hotel rooms with PSPs has worn off, Martin Guptill and Jesse Ryder have decided to grow moustaches.

Ryder’s has been slowly gaining growth over the last week or so but Guptill’s is a newer endeavour. The two players were seen showing off their best efforts at the first Twenty20 international.

When I was younger, I had this image of Aravinda de Silva – ‘Mad Max’ himself, the playboy of Sri Lankan cricket – harrying down one of Colombo’s wide roads in a flashy sports car. Reading and hearing about how fast cars were de Silva’s passion and how women swooned over him, I crafted a picture of a debonair lifestyle, of high-speed cruises down one of Colombo’s wide roads.

I haven’t seen that on either of my tours to Sri Lanka, and probably won’t, given the security and roadblocks. Last summer, while in a tuk-tuk, I was nearly run over by Kumar Sangakkara’s black 4x4 as he tried to dodge another tuk-tuk on his right, on the outskirts of Colombo.

But what is unmistakable is how popular sports cars and SUVs are here in Colombo, and how many Sri Lankan cricketers drive them. I spotted Mahela Jayawardene and his wife Christina in a big Jeep 4x4 and Sanath Jayasuriya in a Ford Explorer. Ajantha Mendis and Muttiah Muralitharan drive SUVs. Chamara Kapugedera got out of one at the SSC. Sachin Tendulkar’s Ferrari fixation is so yesterday. Big is best in Sri Lanka.

There had been a degree of trepidation, for those of us who were not here for the last Twenty20 at the R Premadasa Stadium, as to how security would be handled for tonight’s game. I had read in the web versions of the Island and Daily Mirror, and later been told first hand by local reporters, about just over three weeks ago, policemen baton-charged spectators outside the gates of the venue.

On that unfortunate evening, the main gates had been closed as security guards began individual checks on ticket-holding spectators after forcing them into a small side entrance. As men, women and children were jostled and pinned against steel blockades, anxiety swelled and in a panic police offers manning the gates resorted to assault some spectators.

When visible to the media and fans, Shane Bond has worn the same expression on his face ever since he landed in Colombo from Chennai. It’s been virtually blank, not a trace of excitement or anticipation or nervousness of an international comeback. What thoughts have rattled around his head since he quit the ICL, was handed a New Zealand Cricket contract, was named back in the A and one-day teams, what he felt when he picked up a niggle in India after one over, what the emotions were when he joined up with New Zealand here in Sri Lanka, only Bond knows. And he's hardly shown it.

But tonight I thought I saw him smile.

Bond’s final net session the night before his first international appearance since November 2007 gave little indication to what may be going on inside his head. Bond didn’t speak much as New Zealand began their training under lights at the Premadasa, warming up by himself next to the green railing that runs around the ground. He then joined Daniel Vettori, Jeetan Patel and Daryl Tuffey for leg stretches and conditioning exercises, which included hopping on one leg and working with a fitness ball. A few words were spoken with Vettori and Tuffey, that’s it. The drill went on for about 15 minutes. No real emotion on Bond’s face.

	The pub quiz scoreboard © Gavin Scovell

I bet Martin Guptill didn’t see this coming.

He’s standing in the centre of a pub, holding aloft a trophy in front of a crowd of over a hundred, which includes his New Zealand team-mates, coach Andy Moles, the team support staff, Mahela Jayawardene, Ian Bishop, and Danny Morrison.

Given the tour Guptill and New Zealand have had so far, the moment calls for massive cheer all around, and whoops and whistles from his New Zealand team-mates. The setting is the Cheers pub in the basement of the Cinnamon Grand hotel in Colombo, and Guptill’s team, Pole City, has just won a quiz night after staving off last week’s champions, this time around aptly called Beauties & the Beasts, which comprises Jayawardene, his wife Christine, Jehan Mubarak, and the Sri Lankan support staff including assistant coach Paul Farbrace, team trainer Jade Roberts, and physiotherapist Tommy Simsek, and another couple.

Pole City, Beauties & the Beasts, the Daryl Tuffey-lead 6 Guys, 1 Cup – including Daniel Vettori, Shane Bond, Jacob Oram, Ross Taylor, and Gareth Hopkins - and a fourth team all ended the final round of the quiz tied on 68 points and had to go through a general knowledge shootout. In the end, Guptill’s team won and as he walked up to received the trophy the crowd cheered raucously. For once on tour, the New Zealanders were able to laugh out loud.

“Standby, five-five, seven-seven,” cracks Gavin.

I stare intently at the 22 consoles in front of me to try and spot which one moved when, but I can’t keep up. This is hard work.

I’m sitting inside the Ten Sports production room in the bottom floor of a nondescript green structure at the SSC. It’s a dark room, illuminated by a few flickering tube lights. There are large black coffins all around, used to ship the expensive equipment, and consoles and laptops and other beeping gadgets all around. For a second I recall one of those wire-tapping FBI go-downs that Hollywood pictures have implanted into our mindset.

Gavin, the director, sits in the far left corner. There are 22 screens in front of Gavin, who tells me that’s a small number. There can be as many as 45 when it’s a big series and India are involved. The screens flash almost every conceivable view the cameramen can cover, including the commentators’ box, the dressing rooms, the spectators, the third umpire’s cabin, the press box, and the various entry and exit points. One of the camera constantly provides a panoramic view of the ground and is the one which the team scorecards and summaries are displayed.

What a day. Opened my inbox to hear from a friend on Facebook that Shashi Tharoor, the former UN Under-Secretary to Kofi Annan and a prominent Indian diplomat, had Tweeted about me. Then I watch Daniel Vettori make history at the SSC. After the day’s play, I stand in a guard’s booth fit for two with seven security guards and a machine gun, waiting for the rain to stop. To top it all off, my evening ends with a taxi driver encouraging me to become an actor because, with my dual languages, Arnold Schwarzenegger may one day help me bridge the gap between Hollywood and Bollywood.

True story.

I attend the post-match pressers and make my way to the main gate of the SSC to get my taxi. He calls to say he’s stuck in traffic. It starts to rain. The guard at the gate beckons me to stand in his cabin and stay dry. Thing is, there are already six rather large Devcon security guards and another soldier in commies with a machine gun inside. I hesitate but the rain is getting heavier and I have a laptop, recorder and an ipod in my bag.

“Please, please come,” yells one of the Devcon – that’s like a name out of Robocop. He and another guard make way but we’re really struggling to fit in, especially me with my bag. It’s a tight squeeze if ever I saw one, and I don’t do well with machine guns in my face.