My thoughts on the movie 800
by Sanjeewa Jayaweera
I decided to patronize a cinema after several years to watch a movie. I am glad I did so because the film brought back happy memories of Muttiah Muralitharan, the spinning wizard and, in my opinion, the greatest cricketer Sri Lanka has produced.
The movie 800 is about the life and cricketing career of Muarli. It is aptly titled 800 in recognition of the number of wickets Murali claimed in test matches during his illustrious career, which spanned from 1992 to 2010. His tally of wickets in test cricket is a world record that, in all probability, might never be surpassed, just as much as Sir Donald Bradman’s test batting average of 99.96 runs per innings.
Initially, I was a bit worried about the movie’s length, which is 150 minutes, which I felt might be a bit long for my attention span. However, I honestly did not feel the time as I was engrossed with the riveting story of an individual who overcame many obstacles and prejudices during his cricketing career.
The first hurdle he had to overcome was that he was from a minority community and was being inducted into the game at a time when there was a raging civil conflict between the Sinhalese and Tamils. The movie, in the beginning, includes scenes of his father’s biscuit factory in Kandy being attacked by Sinhala goons, with Murali and his family and other Tamil workers having to run for their lives. Those scenes are poignant as they drive home the feeling of great fear and insecurity that the Tamil community have had to endure for several decades due to the unresolved ethnic issue in our country.
According to the movie, Murali initially, as a young boy, wanted to be a fast bowler, and it was on the advice of his coach, Sunil Fernando, that he decided to be a spin bowler. Thereafter, as an off-spin bowler, Murali made a name for himself playing for his school, St Anthony’s College in Kandy. He had captured over 100 wickets in successive years and was adjudged Observer Schoolboy Cricketer in 1991.
As a schoolboy cricketing prodigy, his selection to the national team was guaranteed and was more or less immediate. The movie focuses on the significant role played by the then-national captain, Arjuna Ranatunga, in Murali’s career. According to the film, Arjuna, when traveling, detours to watch Murali play in a school match. He is immediately impressed with what he sees and is confident that Murali will soon play for the national team. The strong leadership traits of Arjuna are brought to the fore in the movie. No doubt, the incisive cricketing brain of Arjuna made him realize that Murali would be his trump card and, therefore, needed to be nurtured and protected.
Murali’s first overseas tour was to England in 1991, where he hardly got an opportunity to play. The film shows Murali finding the cold weather in England soffeamewhat challenging, with theffea lack of playing opportunities making him feel downcast. He and another team member are responsible for washing the players’ clothes at the local coin-operated launderette, as the rates at the hotel were unaffordable to the team.
He is not pleased that his parents turn up at the Katunayake airport to welcome him back and admonish his mother, ” Why did you come? The parents of the other player have not come! The Wisden Almanack, reviewing the tour, wrote, “Another off-spinner, Muttiah Muralitharan, failed to take a first-class wicket on tour, finding the pitches generally unsympathetic to his slow turn. However, at 19-years, he was very much a novice, with time to learn the skills of his trade- if he can get the opportunity in a side which seems more welcome for one-day internationals than for first-class cricket”.
Murali was to play his debut test match a few months after his return from England against Australia in Colombo. Although he took only three wickets, those knowledgeable knew that Sri Lanka had unearthed an exceptional talent in Murali. However, none in their wildest dreams would have envisaged him ending his career with a world record haul of 800 wickets.
The movie also focuses on the infamous scenes in Australia when Murali was called for throwing in 1995 and then again in 1998. After being initially called for throwing during the 1995 test match in Melbourne, Murali underwent bio-mechanical testing at the University of Western Australia and then in Hong Kong. The tests concluded that his action created an “optical illusion”, and the International Cricket Council (ICC), the governing body, cleared Murali, who then was selected to play in the 50-over World Cup in 1996 hosted by India, Pakistan and Sri Lanka.
In a fairy tale final, Sri Lanka beat Australia to be crowned as the world champions. Murali was one of the players who ran to the centre to embrace Arjuna and Aravinda as, at last, the cricketing gods smiled at Murali and Sri Lanka as they did in 1998 when Murali appropriately scored the winning run after being once again called for throwing by an Australian umpire.
I do not intend to delve into the cricketing records of Murali as statisticians and various other writers have well documented them further than to say that his performances improved year after year, be it on the spin conducive wickets in Sri Lanka or elsewhere. He improved his repertoire of deliveries, including the “doosra”, which was initially banned. Subsequently, he was cleared by the ICC, who changed the rules about the degree of flex a bowler was permitted. This they did after a detailed study of the bowling actions of several leading bowlers using the latest technology.
The biggest takeaway from the film was the reinforcement in my mind of how extraordinarily courageous and determined Murali was. The phrase “where there’s a will, there’s a way” will find no better fit than in the illustrious career of Murali. Astonishingly, he was to perform at the highest level consistently despite the openly racist chants of a few spectators when playing overseas, the accusation of cheating by certain opposition players and also a few former players and the scathing articles by certain newspapers.
A lesson to many, and particularly to our politicians, was the willingness of Murali to undergo numerous tests on his bowling action to prove that his action was legal. In a TV documentary broadcast in 2004, Murali volunteered to prove further that his bent arm stays within permissible limits. Murali proceeded to bowl with a 35cm-long customized arm brace made up of heat-moulded plastic and containing steel rods. He delivered four variations – off-spin, flipper, doosra and the top-spin – with the brace on. He proved he could turn his off-break prodigiously and the doosra without straightening his arm encased in a brace.
Murali announced his intention to retire from test cricket before the commencement of the test series against India in 2010. In an unusual move, despite needing another seven wickets to achieve the milestone of 800 test wickets, he said he would only play in the first test of the series and retire after that. Several players and Board members urged him to play the entire series as taking seven wickets in a test match against Indian batsmen who were good players of spin bowling would be a tough proposition.
Murali was undaunted as he was, in some ways, not too obsessed with the statistics and maybe his inert confidence in his ability. It seems that it was his destiny to take the seven wickets despite rain interfering in the match and stubborn resistance by the tail-end batsmen. As was the case during the entirety of Murali’s glittering career, he had to work hard to reach the coveted 800th wicket. Nothing came easy for him.
I am unsure whether any formal research has been done on the impact of Murali and the Sri Lankan cricket team on the nation’s psyche. The collective feeling of despair that people are currently undergoing due to economic hardships is not dissimilar to what we felt in the 1990s and the first decade of the 21st century due to civil conflict that raged during that period. Undoubtedly, our cricketers’ performances during those difficult days gave us something to celebrate and hope for.
My late mother, in her late 60s, was a classic example of a cricket convert. She would get up early, finish her cooking and other household chores, and sit in front of the TV to watch the Sri Lanka team with strict instructions to my father not to disturb her! I do not doubt that she asserted her authority and freedom late in her life due to Murali and the boys!
I truly hope that cricket supporters and even those not interested in cricket will watch the film 800 as a tribute to our greatest cricketer and also to appreciate the virtues of hard work, determination and the will to succeed despite the many hurdles faced. It also reinforces the need for all communities in our much-maligned nation to work together, as the result is always much better than when we don’t.
Lastly, it is a tragedy that after his retirement, Murali is not involved in any meaningful capacity in the administration and development of Sri Lanka cricket. Recently, I watched a TV interview of his where he said, ” If I ran for parliament, I will no doubt win the seat, but if I am to contest the Sri Lanka Cricket Board elections, I am sure I might not even receive a single vote.”
Undoubtedly, it is an indictment of how manipulative the election process is to be elected to the Sri Lanka Board, how poorly it is governed and administered and no doubt a cause for the alarming decline in the standard of our cricket.
