Editorial

The very fact that you're reading this right now, is a good sign. It's proof that the Editors have managed to brave the rush hour crowds and get to the printers before closing time. It's proof that a human being can survive on less than two hours of sleep a night for more than a week. It's proof that the Tent Committee is (at least partially) still intact. It's also proof that you're actually sitting here, at the SSC, and possibly glancing up once in a while to see that there are 13 blokes out there in the middle, two of them with stout sticks. Let not the drunkard to the left of you bother you in the least. All he cares about at the moment is that his team stays on top. The fact that he can barely see the middle is irrelevant. If he spills his lager on you, feel free to clout him with this book (another significant advantage of the sturdy Thomian souvenir). Don't mind the papare either. They're just warming up. Yes, they will play louder than that. Much, much louder. And yes, we know the hordes of men on either side of you are spewing forth the vilest slang known to mankind. We know that you would perhaps prefer not to know of Aaron Ayya's antics at the bottom of the garden. The exploits of the chronic tea shop owner, or the Burgher man from next door may not interest you in the least - but hey, it's not like you have a choice. Their words too will get louder (and perhaps viler) as the day drags on. And so, we welcome you to the Royal Thomian,

It's probably difficult for you, me spectator, to comprehend what the teams have gone through for months on end. They have been up at dawn, to sweat and ton throughout the day. They've had months of fitness, bowling and batting practice, talks on strategy, nutrition and technique. And yet, as they walk out on to that field, they are the most nervous lot at the SSC today. The pressure at the Royal Thomian is unimaginable. Standing around the ground on match day, one can almost feel the aura of tension. The expectation is so thick, you could cover the field with it, if it so did happen to rain. Thus, it is perhaps unfair to name the Royal Thomian as merely a battle between the bat and the ball. By all means, it remains a battle of the wits. The ultimate winners are those who conquer themselves first. So, even as Kaushi and men his cross the Rubicon, we'd like to give them a hearty "Go Thora" and an "All the Best" from the Tent Committee (or, as I said earlier, what's left of it). The die is cast, let's see the deed done.

When looking at what we've gone through it is easy to see that the most constant cause of irritation were the Tent Secretaries. The very fact that the both of them go virtually undetectable by night proved to be rather dangerous, and it was not uncommon to see a harried editor running down College Avenue at night, flashlight in harid. Both have been rather unsuccessful in their leisure time pursuits and we feel that it is this frustration that is directed towards the more socially successful Editorial board. Although we will not divulge the details herein, the Editors wish to impress upon the cricketer that after three no balls, it's usually time to change your line and length. This however may be easier said than done, and we can't help but sympathize with him on his many shortcomings. The mariner on the other hand, spends the majority of his time waist high in water, and despite his valiant efforts has yet to cultivate the aura of importance he craves. We wish to inform him that Neptune's post is non transferable, and thus urge him to seek employment elsewhere - perhaps in the garment sector.

And so, back to the proceedings. We assume, that by now, the drunkard on your left has reached a state of dementia in which, the match itself no longer matters to him. The rhythmic beat of the papare, combined with the chorus from hell has lulled him into a deep sense of nostalgia. He remembers feeling like this last March, the March before that, and (if he's over forty), the many, many Marches before that as well. The members of the hell-choir itself look bruised and haggard. These bruises are invariably the result of their forays in to the pastures of Flower Road and Boyd Place during the last few days. The fact that many of them have seen the inside of every police remand cell in town is immaterial. Perhaps next year they will plan it out better, and not attempt to break through a dragnet of fifty military police with batons and size eleven army boots. The very that fact boys still attempt such expeditions is a source of great excitement to the fairer sex, and perhaps their presence at the match is a return of this favor. As the days progress, the game progressively draws more female attention, and by Saturday the stands are full of the fairer sex. The apparent cloth shortage that goes hand in hand with the match has been discussed at length before, and thus the Editors will not dwell on it any further. Let's just say that on Saturday, people have a lot more on their minds than the blokes in the middle. In conclusion we'd like wish our compatriots in the opposite camp (or tent, as it would be), all the best for a very fulfilling Royal Thomian. We encourage them to embrace the inevitable, and brace themselves for another Thomian victory. This is not to say they shouldn't enjoy themselves though - the Royal Thomian wouldn't be much of a match without them. Good luck Royal, you're going to need every bit of it!

If someone were to ask us, why we do it - why we sacrifice three months of our personal lives just to see 13 people bake in the hot sun for three days, I guess we would only give them one answer. For three humid days in March every year, the Sinhalese Sports Club is the centre of the universe. Being anywhere else would be just plain unthinkable. And thus, the Tent Committee will spend the next three days cheering their team, dodging broken bottles, ignoring hideous threats of torture and herding hordes of drunken people in and out of the ground. All of us will be changed people, and perhaps some of us will be scarred for life. But, we've waited months for this, and you'd better believe we're going to have the time of our lives. We hope you do too!

Esto Perpetua

 

The Editors

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