Umpiring controversies involving Sri Lanka
Also read about Matheesha Pathirana finding his place in the T20 game
Umpiring Controversies
by Nick Brookes
“It would be much better if he did another job”
Understandably, Wanindu Hasaranga’s brief transition from cricketer to careers advisor was, to put it lightly, poorly received. The ICC promptly handed Sri Lanka’s T20 captain a two-match ban; we enlightened fans were left with no doubt as to whose side we were supposed to be on.
Umpiring is a thankless task – and lest we forget, this is the “gentlemen’s game”: the rule of law must be respected and obeyed. Even cricket can’t escape the odd slice of virtue signalling.
But part of me sympathises with Hasaranga. The match hinged on that moment, and it wasn’t even close to being a legal delivery. Surely umpires have to accept that their actions have consequences too…
Of course, I’d never condone haranguing – but sport is drama, and there’s an undeniable sense of soap opera when players and umpires start getting stuck into each other. Who could forget Mike Gatting and Shakoor Rana’s finger jabbing, or Mikey Holding kicking down the batsman’s stumps in despair. Am I the only one who finds player-umpire clashes something of a guilty pleasure?
Sri Lanka have been involved in a fair few over the years. Let’s count down five of the most memorable…
Sri Lanka vs India, 3rd ODI 1993: Ramanayake’s not out – whichever way you slice it
Back in the good old days – before the conception of TV replays, social media and 21st-century levels of scrutiny – umpires could get away with a little more.
Of course, the lack of neutral officials didn’t necessarily help the situation. It’s not like umpires were out to cheat visiting batters – but, as a player once told me, “there was a lot of pressure” on them.
Often, there was a sense of redressing wrongs which had occurred when the team went on the road; sometimes, with the local board paying salaries, it was easy for umpires to forget who they were working for. Occasionally, these issues would bubble to the surface in the form of a truly awful piece of officiating.
Such was the case on 16th August 1993. A tight ODI series had come down to the final over: Sri Lanka were in the box seat – but with two bowlers installed at the crease, things were a little tense.
One short of parity, Javagal Srinath rapped Champaka Ramanayake on the pad – dead in front of the stumps. It looked a plum lbw; as Ramanayake rushed to the non-striker’s end, he frantically waved his bat aloft, pointing at it to suggest it was the first point of contact. Only when he completed the single did he realise that the ball had ballooned up into gully’s hands.
Seemingly, Umpire Manuel had two options: raise the finger or award the leg bye. He did neither – but the run was allowed to stand, and eventually went down in the scorebook as an extra. Ruwan Kalpage cracked the next ball to the cover fence to complete victory, but it was impossible to escape a slightly sour taste. This was a flagrantly partisan piece of umpiring – a truly unjustifiable decision, the sort which can sully a series victory. Had it happened today, it might well have caused an international incident.
England in Sri Lanka, 2001: All hell breaks loose
This series was wild for all sorts of reasons. Sri Lanka’s civil war had largely kept tourists away for the past two decades, but they came flooding back in 2001. 7,000 fans travelled for the series, against 8,049 Brits who’d visited the island across the whole of 2000. The chairman of the Ceylon Tourist Beer claimed the whole country briefly ran out of beer – but in true Lankan style, one thing never lacking was spice.
Even before the Tests had started, there was acrimony. In the warm-ups alone, Darren Gough was reported for swearing and clashed with an umpire. Ruchira Perera was strangely accused of racially abusing Craig White – despite the fact the supposed insult happened to be his victim’s last name. And when the teams arrived at Galle for the first Test, the fire flickered and crackled and threatened to rage out of control.
Five players were censured by the match referee, a window ended up broken in England’s dressing room – while beery vigilante fans spent an evening hunting for the umpires throughout their hotel. They had a right to feel aggrieved: England reckoned seven decisions went against them – this lbw against Stewart was as poor a piece of umpiring as you’ll ever see.
Things got worse in Kandy. Sanga was given out caught off his arm guard. Hussain was caught twice at silly point en route to a century; Hick dismissed three times as he lodged an 11-ball duck. Stewart survived an appeal for a catch that came off the face of the bat, and was then given caught off a ball he hadn’t hit.
When Jayasuriya was declared caught at gully off a ball he’d whacked into the ground, things truly boiled over. He was fined for flinging his helmet across the boundary rope; back in the middle, Sangakkara and Atherton got into a prolonged, ugly back and forth.
Lankan fans made their anger felt loud and clear. Umpire B.C. Cooray quickly earned the nickname ‘Bad Call’; on the fourth day, ironic banners sprung up inviting him to collect his British residency visa. He was stood down for the final match of the series and never umpired another Test. Some reckoned there were 15 major errors in the match; as Stewart put it, ‘even though the majority favoured us, it was a little disturbing’.
Some (but by no means all) of the shockers are shown in this video. Has a single series ever been so poorly officiated?
Pakistan in Sri Lanka, 1986: Javed loses his shit
In the days when home umpires ruled the roost, it was rare for a series to pass between Pakistan and Sri Lanka without some serious discord. The nadir was undoubtedly 1986. Sri Lanka felt they’d been cheated on their last visit to Pakistan: according to Imran, “the entire country was up against us” before the series got underway.
It didn’t take long for the spark to catch. Imran claims that on the opening morning of the first Test, umpire Felsinger rejected an appeal and reminded the players this was ‘not Pakistan’: they should shut up and get on with the game. A number of shouts were turned down: when one of the Pakistani players called the umpire a cheat, Felsinger took the bails and led the batters from the field. Imran and his men sat on the grass as if they were on summer holiday.
Felsinger demanded an apology – eventually, reluctantly, it came. Yet things got worse in the second Test. Ranatunga and Imran got into an angry war of words; and during Pakistan’s second innings, the situation truly spiralled out of control.
Sri Lanka complained about a misshapen ball – since the umpires only had new ones in reserve, they decided to rough up the replacement on the ground to simulate 16 overs’ wear. For Javed Miandad, this was too much to bear: he stormed the pitch, armed with a copy of Wisden, and began lecturing the umpires on the laws of the game. After a prolonged stand-off, he left the field to a chorus of boos.
By the third evening, Pakistan’s survival rested in Miandad’s hands. But when Ravi Ratnayake had him trapped in front, he refused to walk – instead, shaking his head slowly while pointing towards his bat. There was a fiery exchange with the fielders; ultimately, the umpires had to order Miandad from the crease.
For the second time in 24 hours, he trudged back to the pavilion to a chorus of boos. When someone launched a stone, any modicum of restraint flew out the window. Javed charged the crowd, bat held violently aloft. He hurdled the fence and tried to find his attacker; the police had to pull him out of a sea of bodies.
If there was comedy here, it was of the ugliest kind. Sick of the drama, Imran invited Indian umpires to stand in Pakistan later that year – the first major step towards neutral officiating.
Sri Lanka in Australia, 1995-96, 1999: Ross the boss (kinda?)
Considering Ross Emerson stood in a sum total of 10 ODIs, he certainly left his mark on the game. The former grade cricketer made his international debut in January 1996, hot on the heels of Hair-gate – and quickly let his distaste for Murali’s action known.
Emerson called the off-spinner three times in his first over – prompting Murali to switch to leg breaks, where the arm appeared much straighter. Emerson called one of those too, giving the strong sense that his calls were coming at random. He left the field to a volley of boos, surrounded by police.
But Emerson was unperturbed. When Sri Lanka came back to Australia three years later, he quickly tucked into Murali again. Ranatunga would not let this lie. He marched over to Emerson: before long he was imperiously jabbing his finger into the umpire’s chest. Emerson tried to clap back, yet he was clearly shook in the face of Arjuna’s fury. Ranatunga led his team from the field.
After a twelve-minute break, Sri Lanka were persuaded to continue the match ‘under protest’. But, tempers were high and Emerson had lost his head. He refused a request from Murali to stand closer to the stumps, prompting another tongue-lashing from Arjuna. And when it was Sri Lanka’s turn to bat, the umpires completely lost control.
Jayasuriya struck a four that was awarded six, Vince Wells sent down a beamer which went uncalled and Gough managed to get through a seven-ball over. Mahela – who made a match-winning century – should have been run out on 33, but Emerson refused to send the decision upstairs. The drama continued right into the last over, when Mahanama charged into Gough and Alec Stewart angrily shoulder barged the batter. Nor was it done with the final ball.
Three days after the match, the saga took a truly bizarre turn – when newspapers reported that Emerson was on sick leave from his day job due to a ‘stress-related illness’. He was stood down by the ACB, and never umpired another international match. Cast aside by the board, Emerson claimed they directed his no-balling of Murali. 17 years later, he gave a frenzied interview to The Australian, claiming he was victim of an internationalist ICC conspiracy. A strange, unsavoury incident.
Australia vs Sri Lanka, 2nd Test 1995: Murali vs Hair
Surely, one of the most infamous incidents in the history of cricket – when Hair called Murali on Boxing Day at the MCG.
On Day One, there were seven ‘no ball’ calls in the space of three overs. Ranatunga switched Murali to the other end, but he was permanently removed from the attack on Day Two – when Hair announced he would call Murali regardless of where he was stood.
Considering the magnitude of the incident, there was relatively little drama on the pitch – rather, Hair-gate has the feel of a spy novel, full of shadowy dealings and back-alley espionage.
First things first, a bit of context. Bagging a Boxing Day Test was a huge deal for Sri Lanka – at this stage, still a minnow who often struggled to attract broadcasters. Murali wasn’t yet Murali: at 23, he was an exciting talent no doubt, but a long way from a fully-fledged star.
And Hair’s sudden disgust at his action seems strange, considering he had stood in four Sri Lanka ODIs in the preceding four months. Even in 1995, there was a sense the incident was timed to cause maximum humiliation to Murali and Sri Lanka.
Indeed, the stench of conspiracy quickly sullied the air. Robert Craddock reported on “secret conversations between leading umpires, high-ranking officials and disgruntled players”; umpire Steve Dunne claimed the officials’ dressing room “was never free of at least one member of the ACB”; and it even emerged that Australia coach Bob Simpson had instructed the board photographer to snap Murali’s action, suggesting his favoured angles. Most damningly, ACB CEO Graham Halbish admitted promising Hair “full backing” if he were to call Murali.
This was a serious scandal, the likes of which have rarely been seen in cricket. Yet hasn’t it somewhat been swept under the rug? As far as I’m aware, none of those involved have ever apologised to Murali or Sri Lanka.
Doesn’t that give a sense that umpires and board officials don’t always play by the same rules as the rest of us? Isn’t that all the more reason that umpires should be challenged – politely, of course – when they make mistakes?
Matheesha Pathirana: The smiling stump rattler
There’s nothing quite like watching a fast bowler’s celebration after they flatten the batter’s stumps. Cricket momentarily sets aside its genteel, aristocratic roots to allow its rockstars to take center stage. Neck veins bulge. Eyes glare. Fists pump. Guttural screams ring out. Colorfully scripted send-offs are unleashed. For just an instant, the chaos, passion, and primality of cricket all bubble to the surface, threatening to expose the seedy underbelly of the gentleman’s game.

Matheesha Pathirana seems, for all intents and purposes, to have missed the memo on fast bowling celebrations. In the first T20 against Afghanistan, Pathirana, who had just unleashed 153 kph heat-seeking missile that narrowly missed Noor Ahmed’s bat, follows it up with a 150 kph length ball that smashes middle stump out the ground. The wicket, which leaves Afghanistan 8 down in a very tight chase, however, hardly elicits any emotion from Pathirana. He cracks a half-smile, tucks his necklace into his shirt, and gently high-fives Charith Asalanka.
Two singles follow, bringing no. 10 Naveen ul-Haq back on strike for the final ball of the over. A cracking yorker delivered at 150 kph knocks the stumps over. Handed the ball with 14 to defend from 12 balls and an in-form Ibrahim Zadran on strike, Pathirana has delivered a nearly perfect over. 3 runs and 2 wickets, leaving Sri Lanka with 11 to defend from the last over. But again, there are no histrionics from Pathirana; he cracks a half-smile, tucks his necklace into his shirt, and accepts a hug from his CSK teammate, Maheesh Theekshana. He looks almost apologetic for turning the match in his side’s favor.

Pathirana’s Player of the Match performance in this game, capped off a dizzying 18-months for the Sri Lankan tearaway. After a largely forgettable international debut against Afghanistan in the 2022 Asia Cup in which he bowled just one over which yielded 16 runs, ‘Baby Malinga’, it seemed, still needed some time to mature. Yet only a couple months later, he found himself bowling at the death for the Chennai Super King XI. Under the guidance of none other than MS Dhoni, he set the IPL alight, taking 19 wickets from 12 matches, as CSK claimed their fifth league title.
Plaudits from Dhoni, Malinga, and the international cricket community led to his selection in Sri Lanka’s ODI side. Though a touch expensive at times, Pathirana proved valuable, taking a tournament-leading 11 wickets in the 2023 Asia Cup. Things, however, would take a turn for the worse in the World Cup. Pathirana was smashed for 95 and 90 runs in Sri Lanka’s first two matches before being ruled out of the tournament with a shoulder injury. Torrents of abuse for his undisciplined bowling followed from Sri Lanka’s unrelenting fanbase.
When Pathirana returned to action at the beginning of 2024, it was clear he had taken another step forward. Stump-rattling spells in the ILT20 regularly showed that he had added another yard of pace and was now capable of regularly exceeding speeds of 150kmph. Nevertheless, he was not among Sri Lanka’s first-choice fast bowlers in the T20 format. It appeared that he was fourth on the depth chart behind Dushmantha Chameera, Dilshan Madushanka, and Nuwan Thushara, all of whom played ahead of him in the Zimbabwe series.
But an injury to Chameera and a slip in form from Madushanka saw Pathirana elevated to the starting XI against Afghanistan, his first T20I match since his forgettable debut 18 months earlier. And in just 24 deliveries, Pathirana made an indelible mark. It now seems unthinkable that Pathirana will be dropped from the XI anytime soon.
In the post-match presentation, Pathirana shared how happy he was to finally get another crack at T20Is. But if you were watching the match closely, you would have known that already. When he took the wicket of Azratullah Omarzai in his very first over, Pathirana broke character. He pumped his fists, kicked the air, and let out a scream at his teammates. The stoic, smiling assassin, if just for a moment, showed just how much the game meant to him. And that maybe, just maybe, he does actually have that fast bowling rockstar gene deep in his bones.