My flights are booked, tickets bought, transport arranged. It so happens that I arrive in Colombo on the first day of the match – giving me just enough time to enjoy the rush-hour traffic jam; leaving me with very little time for the ritualistic three S’s in the morning – shower, shave (and of course you know the first one), before dashing off to the grounds.
March, is a significant month in my calendar for two reasons. One, the match. Two, it’s the month of my unofficial anniversary. Things hit a new note between yours truly and the love of his life on the first day of the big-match a few years ago; and this year, the two shall meet one another for the first time: I have decided to take the Mrs to the match.
Apparently, the only sort of “pre-nup” we have is about the match it seems, as she recollects. I had wanted to ensure that I have safe passage to Colombo every March, no matter which corner of the world we would be living in. Yes, for the rest of my life. And she did agree.
I guess that was smart, and I was lucky, to have that sorted out before it ever became an issue to anyone. No woman in her rightful mind would deprive her man of the joy of this wonderful camaraderie of ‘Royal’ life. Aah, the long-lost friends, their adventures with the feminine kind, the wonderful stories, the memories of yesteryear... all cheered and toasted with an ample supply of food and drink – the match is a lot more than just a match.
Enough said. The big match is the Big Match. For everything else, there’s MasterCard.