
Voluntary service met with bureaucratic hurdles and public scorn has driven Sri Lanka Rugby’s brightest mind to walk away in silence
In a deeply unfortunate turn of events for Sri Lanka Rugby, national head coach Sanath Martis has resigned following the conclusion of the two recent encounters against the visiting New Zealand Under-85kg team. Citing “personal reasons,” Martis confirmed to The Morning Telegraph that he had indeed stepped down but refrained from elaborating, perhaps out of professional courtesy or a reluctance to stoke controversy.
Yet, the silence speaks volumes.
Sanath Martis is no ordinary figure. Arguably the finest rugby coach in Sri Lanka, his departure comes just as the national team had clawed its way back into Asia Rugby’s top-tier a place it rightfully belongs after over a decade in the wilderness. His resignation is more than the exit of a coach; it marks a sobering indictment of a dysfunctional system that, despite 140 years of heritage, continues to stumble in its present-day stewardship.
According to reliable sources close to the matter, the factors behind Martis’ resignation are both troubling and telling: lack of appreciation, the absence of any remuneration for what was essentially a full-time voluntary role, and the bureaucratic strain of having to secure formal permission from his primary employer, St. Peter’s College, where he serves as head coach of the First XV side.
To compound matters, the logistical shortcomings during the recent quadrangular tournament were glaring. Sri Lanka Rugby (SLR), the national governing body, failed to provide even the most basic requirements practice grounds and equipment. These had to be sourced by the coaching team themselves from CR & FC and CH & FC respectively an appalling abdication of duty by those tasked with administrative support.
It’s worth asking: how long can SLR continue to expect professionals to serve the game for free, while the so-called “top brass” bask in VVIP limelight at matches, photographed and flattered while others labour in the shadows?
As if matters weren’t already fraying, Priyantha Ekanayake, now the Chairman of the National Sports Council (NSC), launched into the coaching staff after the first game, undermining their efforts in a scathing critique:
“I am disappointed with the team. We had a good win against Malaysia. This was the best opportunity we had to beat the New Zealand team. They do not know who we are… Actually I am disappointed with the coaching staff and selectors to say the least.”
He continued:
“My advice is when things go right you continue with it… but you don’t make wholesale changes where everybody expects us to do well and we should have done better going into the next game.”
Ekanayake’s outburst issued after the game has left many puzzled. After all, the selected team was vetted by the coaching and selection committee, then passed on to team management, who in turn submitted it to the Director of Sports, Shemal Fernando, before it reached Ekanayake and the final sign-off was obtained from the Minister of Sports, Sunil Kumara Gamage. Why, then, did Ekanayake wait until after the match to voice concerns?
Critics argue that his remarks, far from constructive, reflect a classic case of hindsight posturing a public scapegoating of coaches who were working under severe limitations and little institutional backing.
Behind the scenes, the lack of financial support is just as damaging. While the national cricket coach Sanath Jayasuriya reportedly earns Rs. 20 million a month, Sri Lanka Rugby has asked Martis and his staff to offer their services without any compensation only to receive public criticism in return.
Adding insult to injury, sources confirm that Shemal Fernando was forced to formally write to the administration of St. Peter’s College to secure Martis’ release for national duties. That in itself illustrates how poorly coordinated the national rugby setup currently is.
At a time when Sri Lanka Rugby is on the cusp of reclaiming regional prominence, losing a coach of Martis’ calibre under such circumstances is more than unfortunate it is a self-inflicted wound that exposes a deeper rot within SLR’s administrative culture. If this is how Sri Lanka treats its best, it should be no surprise when the rest begin to follow his lead out the door.