Archibald Perera was the legendary son of the first Ceylonese Postmaster General -Ignatius Perera - who also dabbled with the egg shaped ball.
After learning his basics at the school in the hills the legend to be from Trinity College ended up at the school by the Hamilton Canal, St Peter’s College.
The canal was built by the world famous builders of dykes and dams (the Dutch) for transport at that time and Archibald did not come from the school in the hills to SPC using this well-known mode of transport. His arrival was followed by two of his school mates from Trinity, Henry Young - the maternal grandfather of another diminutive scrum half Troy Bartlett (my dear friend) and the spunky Claire Roeloffsz who teamed up with the diminutive youngster Archibald and together with his mates were able to lead SPC to a victory against his former school in 1936.
They sealed a 3-0 victory against Trinity at Bogambara and beat almost all club sides at that time.
I had heard about Archie from my grandad who played for Trinity in the 1923-1925 seasons, about the time that SPC was founded. I got my first glance of him in 1971 when we were captained by Jizwi Nizar who later married my wife’s cousin Ramona.
Although I noticed Archibald was not big in stature unlike my 5’ 11” grandad, he had a way with the ball and a passion for the sport. Practices started around November each year and school used to close at 3.00 pm but most times I got to hang around the ground waiting for my brother while he was at cub scouts or cricket practices. I enjoyed those times, eavesdropping on his practice sessions, picking the ball and sending it back and was privy to much that was said, the training as well as the banter.
He used to relate many stories to the players at those sessions. Some that I remember with a flavour were like: “How do you think I scored tries and lived through tackles unleashed by the hefty Europeans? I crept through or gave out the ball (and the threat) as fast as possible to the man next to me.”
I found this fun and smart. Another was: “When we were hosted for dinner after a game, seated next to a European player, I turned my head and noticed that the man’s fingers were thicker than my wrists.”
I enjoyed these, especially from where he was coming. He had guts and was a nippy star who played tall. Size was of no concern to him, a crafty fly-half who read the game well. I continued year after year watching these sessions, picking and passing the ball, until I started going for practices, myself, in 1979. He started tackling practices at the commencement of the rainy season on the ground softened by the showers, making it conducive for play. He demonstrated the execution of tackling, stressing on keeping your arms around your opponent while bringing him to the ground safely.
He never gave in to any form of unethical play and playing within the rules was cardinal. Sometimes he would take a peek, wearing his trade mark yellow T-shirt and golf hat, at what the boys were doing prior to the commencement of practices. He would catch views of prop forwards taking place-kicks at the goal posts. This was fun time and he would instruct them to push against the goal posts, binding their arms around it to strengthen their shoulders and tell the second rows to jump and touch the cross bar.
He would also tell us who did not have a ball at home to practice by passing even a loaf of old bread to our sisters as passing at practices were paramount. He had the ability to turn things around. He would do press ups on one hand and comment that at 50 odd years he could still do it and also sprint 25 or 50 metres with the team, a challenge to us.
At college matches he would walk by the sidelines giving out instructions and I have witnessed him at times getting caught up in tackles unleashed on players running close to the sidelines on their way to the corner flag but he would be up and running again in a jiffy. He played for CR and FC and captained the Ceylonese side.
I am sure he would remain in the memories of all whom he came into touch with. I also had him as my Maths and English master. The cane, he referred to, as the ‘Joy Stick’ and the Canal View Stores and the Achcharu Amme were often points of reference, while teaching us Maths. A comment he made in class for those who had not learnt their multiplication tables was “even the bottle man will play you out” and to those of us who would not pay attention in class, “come to the ground and I’ll make you a man.” On the field, he would exhort us “the 11th commandment is steal the ball and do not get caught.”
Although he is gone from us, his memory will always linger and ‘Gentlemen of the Sport’ we will remain, as taught by him for almost 30 years, not just as rugby players but as ambassadors of the game that he truly loved, imparting to us that same love. I also remember Archie having his then little grandsons, Mark and Romesh seated on his lap in class (after our sessions in Maths or English were done), dipping into his pockets for some money for the tuck shop.
(The writer is a former St. Peter’s College flanker in the 1983-84 seasons)