Isipatana's glory in the dying light

In the thick dusk of a Colombo evening, as the shadows lengthened over the Royal Complex and the ghosts of schoolboy finals past stirred in the stands, it was the boys from Isipatana who stood tallest - bloodied, battered, but unbowed.

- BY CARLOS VAN DE BERG

With the clock gasping its final seconds, they summoned a last surge, a final act of audacity and defiance and in doing so, claimed the President's Trophy once more. Twelve points to nine. No epics are written with such arithmetic, and yet, this was one for the ages.

It had all the markings of a classic. The crowd, frenzied and full-throated. The air, thick with monsoon promise. Two old foes, not just playing for silver but for the soul of their jersey. Trinity, resurgent and resolute. Isipatana, the champions, carrying the weight of history and the burden of expectation.