Galle Are Welcome: A Day at Galle International Cricket Stadium

Dr Hamron Zafar dons his replica kit, drapes himself with a flag, gathers his impressive collection of banners and makes his way to see his favourite international team at Galle International Stadium. When I first see him, he is holding up a banner, adorned with the beaming face of his favourite player, declaring that he has travelled over 2,500km to see the side live for the first time. When I speak to him in the mid-afternoon heat, he has got two player autographs and seen one of the team’s all-time greats score yet another century.

The player grinning from the banner is Aaron Finch. The centurion is a free-scoring Steve Smith in blistering form. Dr Zafar is among the many travelling fans who have made the trip to Galle to watch their beloved Australia. The only unusual thing about his individual case: Dr Zafar is an anaesthetist from Pakistan.

So, why Australia?

He explains to me that his mother, who has travelled with him, is also a die-hard Australia fan. Growing up, he would watch matches with her and a passion for Antipodean cricket was born. He lists a veritable who’s-who of Australian greats and details how these legends of the game stoked his love for the Baggy Green. He tells me he supports Australia no matter what, even when they play Pakistan. Like all committed fans, he says ‘we’ when talking about the team.

This is his first opportunity to see Australia play in the flesh and he is making the most of it. He will be attending the whole test, as well as the subsequent ODIs in Colombo. However, it’s not the first time he has attempted to watch his heroes live. He tells me how, back in 2022, sensing that Finch didn’t have long to go in his career, he booked tickets to all of Melbourne Renegades’ home games in the Big Bash and started the process of applying for an Australian visa. Sadly, his application was rejected. But Dr Zafar received his tickets and an Aaron Finch card in the mail, and these are now treasured souvenirs.

Dr Zafar’s story shows how shared traditions and rituals can inspire a love of sport and team that can transcend borders, cultures, and unfairly draconian visa regimes. One can only hope that, sometime soon, this honorary Aussie will get the chance to see the green and gold on home soil.

Dr Zafar with his Aaron Finch banner

Cricket’s ability to break down the barriers of nationality is on display throughout the lunch and tea intervals. An impromptu match breaks out on the hill beneath the Moon Bastion of Galle Fort, with a motley crew of Sri Lankans and Aussies batting and bowling (and your Anglo-Scottish correspondent making a limited contribution in the deep field). Raucous applause breaks out for cover drives, deliveries that beat the edge, and physics-defying catches regardless of who produces them. Particular ovation is given to a Sri Lankan fan wearing a Lasith Malinga wig who manages a fair imitation of that icon’s slingy action.

There are moments in this lunchtime contest that are eerily reminiscent of some of the more controversial moments in history of the Sri Lanka-Australia rivalry. One Sri Lankan bowler, much like Murali in decades past, was told repeatedly to straighten his arm by an Australian masquerading as an umpire. Unlike Murali, this fellow’s action truly was crooked, with a noticeable 90° bend of the elbow at the point of delivery. So the young Australian who could be heard to complain, ‘Can’t believe I got out to a bloody chucker!’, as he returned to his seat at the close of play had stronger grounds for his upset than some of his professional countrymen in the 1990s.

There is something deeply wholesome about these (very) amateur international friendlies. During one teatime game of ‘one hand, one bounce’, a young Sri Lankan lad is given a stay of execution after being caught one-handedly when it transpires that he does not know what ‘one hand, one bounce’ means. He then proceeds to put on one of the great displays of defensive cricket, never allowing the ball to leave the ground. The plastic bin acting as his wicket eventually goes flying when he is ‘stumped’ after advancing down the pitch, swinging, and missing. In the ensuing ruckus of cheers and raised index fingers, the boy runs up to the Australian wicket-keeper who takes a few seconds to realise he’s being offered a ‘well played’ high-five because he is so busy gathering the empty beer cups scattered during his zealous toppling of the ‘stumps’.

It's not all perfect, of course. As shadows lengthen and ever more beers are consumed, one can detect a change in the tone of certain Aussie fans’ encouragement of the man dressed as Malinga. An unpleasant edge creeps into the shouts of ‘Sling it for us, Lasith!’ There is a sense that, for these individuals perhaps, a Sri Lankan dressed as Malinga is to be laughed at, while an Australian dressed as Merv Hughes might be laughed with. One also can’t help but notice Sri Lankan cricket’s slogan, ‘One Team, One Nation’, on signage around the ground and question the veracity of the board’s commitment to that message. After all, no-one from the north of the country has represented Sri Lanka since 1969 and the nation’s cricket continues to be dominated by alumni of a handful of elite Colombo schools. In addition, attempts to promote Sinhala nationalism through the country’s cricket team, and the complex interplay between sport and ethnic identity in Sri Lanka, have been well documented by a multitude of Sri Lankan writers and academics. There is clearly a lot more that the governing body could be doing to use cricket to support inclusive reconciliation and intercommunal bridge-building post-civil war. A bat and ball game will never resolve the issues created by conflict and divisive politics, but it can at least create some basic common ground on which disparate groups can come together.

Sitting on the hill at Galle, one can’t help but feel hopeful that sport can deliver on its promise unite people and overcome divisions. After all, a test match at Galle stadium might be one of the few places in the world where, in one sweep of the head, you’ll see a man in traditional Islamic dress, a Buddhist monk, and two shirtless Australians making a giant beer snake.

Cultures come together