F
RIENDSHIP, Samuel Butler once said, is like money: it’s easier made than kept. By that measure, Kumar Sangakkara and Mahela Jayawardene have a billion-dollar friendship.
The Sri Lankan pair, who hung up their bats at the World Cup, came to epitomise sporting bromance. On 36 occasions, they made 100-run stands together. They took Sri Lanka to a T20 World Cup and lost two World Cup finals. They almost died together, too, when they were hit by shrapnel during a terror raid on their team bus in Pakistan in 2009.
Jayawardene and Sangakkara are best remembered for their record 624-run test partnership in Colombo in 2006 against South Africa on a featherbed wicket. You have to get on if you’re going to spend 11 hours hitting balls together in the sun, having a chat every 10 minutes.
But bromance isn’t the only route to glory. Some triumphant teammates can and do hate each other’s guts.
Granted, there are plenty of cases where discord is destructive. One of the most comical examples is Newcastle United teammates Lee Bowyer and Kieron Dyer losing their rags around the time their side went 3-0 down to Aston Villa — all because one refused to pass the other the ball. Bowyer got a ripped shirt, Dyer got a sore left cheek. Both got red cards.
But what happens when it works? What happens when two guys’ loathing for each other creates a chemistry that sends sparks flying on game day?
Perhaps former Pakistan captains Waqar Younis and Wasim Akram could give us the answer. The two are undoubtedly Pakistan’s best-ever bowlers and they formed the most feared opening-bowling partnership, after the West Indies’ Curtly Ambrose and Courtney Walsh.
Younis had a working-class hero persona about him. The right-handed quick had to fight hard for his wickets. At press conferences, he looked like a man who’d accidentally walked into the ladies’ toilet and needed to immediately explain himself.
Akram was the epitome of suave. His bowling action looked unorthodox but not flawed. He bowled lefthanded with speed and with a devilishly upright seam. On camera, he wore rimless spectacles that made him look like he could give a philosophy lecture right after picking up a hat-trick.
They were both masterful exponents of reverse swing and broke many batsmen’s toes from the mid1980s to the early 2000s. But they disliked each other right up to the end of their careers. Each was jealous of the other’s brilliance — competing for the match ball and control of the dressing room. It got so bad that, at the 2003 Cricket World Cup, they were only speaking to each other through Inzamam ulHaq.
There’s more. Long before McLaren had Lewis Hamilton and Nico Rosberg dominating Formula One, and renouncing their friendship, Ayrton Senna and Alain Prost had serious beef.
It was hate at first sight. The initial offensive gesture, it appeared, was when Senna moved to McLaren from Lotus in 1988. By the end of 1989, with Senna needing a win at Suzuka to take the title, and Prost leading the drivers’ standings, Prost collided with Senna just as the Brazilian was overtaking on a bend.
A year later, Senna, who was in the championship lead this time, returned the favour, on the same Japanese track. Senna held pole position and Prost second. McLaren benefited from their war by dominating the constructors’ championship. Anyway, Senna blocked Prost from overtaking him on the first turn and they both crashed out of the race.