The Legend of Pradeep Mathew Read Online Free PDF

soundproof cinema room there is the din of three men cheering lustily. A change in commentary: Benaud is replaced by Bill Lawry and former England captain Graham Snow.
    I cast the first stone. ‘For this session, three.’
    Jonny chuckles. ‘You must be barmy. If this spinner takes another wicket, he’ll do at least seven.’
    Ari has a notepad ready. ‘OK, gentlemen. Round 4. How many times will Graham Snow say ‘these little Sri Lankans’? Wije three? Jonny seven? I’ll say five. Starting now.’
    ‘Morning, Graham. Morning, all,’ says Bill Lawry.
    We wait with bated breath.
    ‘Morning, Bill,’ says Graham.
    ‘Interesting passage of play here. Can Australia make it to 300?’
    ‘I tell you what. These little Shree Lankans are finally putting up a fight.’
    We clink our glasses and growl.
    ‘And it’s all thanks to this young man, Mathew. He’s bowled a blinder.’
    David Boon misjudges the flight of a wayward chinaman and spoons a catch to Madugalle. Australia 277–5. We gape at the screen.
    ‘Another one! That’s his third. Look at these figures. First spell, nothing to write home about. But this spell. 3 overs. 3 for 4.’
    ‘Well, not being unkind, Graham, but till the last hour, this Sri Lankan team has been nothing to write home about. Comprehensively beaten in seven matches.’
    Ari takes a swig of his scotch and then winces, realising Jonny has forgotten the ice and the soda.
    ‘Blow it out your arse, Bill,’ sneers Jonny. ‘How boring was he? Worse than bloody Boycott.’
    ‘You’re talking rot,’ I say. ‘I saw Lawry stand up to a blitz from Trueman and Statham at Lord’s. He was class.’
    ‘You applying for an Aussie visa, WeeGee?’ Jonny winks at Ari.
    ‘I have no intention of leaving this miserable isle.’
    ‘Wije. Stop bullshitting, men,’ says Ari. ‘Bill Lawry was a corpse with pads.’
    At that moment, with the score on 290, the corpse bursts to life. ‘GOT HIM! What a ball! Young Mathew traps Simon O’Donnell leg before.’
    ‘That was a top spinner,’ Graham Snow observes. ‘I tell you what. This boy has them all. Chinaman, googly, top spinner and that amazing arm ball that got rid of the Aussie captain.’
    Australia end up on 323 for 7. Snow says the phrase seven times during that session and twenty-three times for the whole game. Jonny wins the round, but I win the three bottles. Ari’s scoring system is as mystical as the Duckworth–Lewis. I will not even attempt an explanation.
    Mathew adds Kepler Wessels to his 5 scalps for 65 runs, but Sri Lanka can only muster a paltry 91, with only two batsmen reaching double figures. It is Sri Lanka’s heaviest defeat.
    The next day’s newspapers lament our dismal batting. None mention Mathew’s 5–65. The Island’s match report would have, had its writer handed in his copy on time.
The Shrink
    All credit should go to Ari. While I pour the vodka, he sits with his arm around our host, sharing a cigarette and his secrets to happiness.
    ‘Graham, I have always admired your grit.’
    When Ari says it, it doesn’t sound like brown-nosing.
    ‘You weren’t the most talented, but you were the toughest. The only fellow to stand up to that Lillee and Thompson.’
    As I gaze at Colombo’s rooftops, from the corner of my eye I spy Graham burying his head in his palms. How drunk is he and why is he discussing his marital problems with two strangers?
    ‘Glenda has left. My boys ignore me. SevenSports may not renew my contract. That’s it, I suppose,’ he sobs.
    ‘Stop this nonsense, Graham. Don’t become a spectacle.’ Ari is strict. ‘Who are these people downstairs?’
    ‘The Indians paid for the party.’
    ‘What Indians?’ I ask.
    ‘From NSPN. A sponsorship deal for the World Cup.’
    I decide to join the group therapy session. ‘See, Mr Snow. NSPN! What is SevenSports? People respect you. Make cricket the centre of your life. And everything will follow.’
    Ari glares at me. ‘Wije. Don’t talk crap. Make