Someone had to say it

This week isn't about light drama or internet nonsense. It's about power. The kind that drops bombs and redraws borders. The kind that wears a cricket jersey and asks for patience. From global leaders being eliminated in airstrikes to our own cricket system asking fans not to lose faith, the theme is the same: accountability hits differently depending on who's holding it. Let's get into it.

Liberation Has a Body Count

The Israel–Iran war just crossed a line that history will underline in red.

Iranian state television has confirmed that Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei was killed in joint US and Israeli air strikes on Tehran. Just like that, one of the most powerful and polarising figures in the Middle East is gone.

This isn’t just another escalation. This is regime-altering. The biggest leadership shift in Iran since 1989. And whenever words like “historic strike” and “decisive action” start trending, you know what usually follows: instability, retaliation, and a region holding its breath.

Because here’s the uncomfortable pattern no one likes to say out loud. Every time a nation is liberated from a strongman, the headlines celebrate. The footage looks dramatic. The speeches sound righteous. But the aftermath? That’s where things get messy. Iraq. Libya. Syria. The script is familiar. Remove the villain, promise democracy, leave behind fractures that take decades to stitch, if they ever do.

Khamenei was not some misunderstood saint. His rule was authoritarian, brutal to dissent, harsh on women, and ruthless to opposition. Many Iranians opposed him. Many suffered under him. But eliminating a leader is not the same as stabilising a nation.

Power vacuums don’t sit quietly. They invite chaos. They invite opportunists. They invite foreign interests with long-term agendas dressed up as short-term solutions.

Big moves look decisive on camera. They feel like justice to some. But history has a way of asking, years later: who really benefited? And more importantly, who paid? Because when geopolitics plays chess, it’s almost never the kings who bleed first. It’s the people.

Last Word: History shows us that bombs can end regimes. They don’t automatically build better ones.

“Don’t Give Up On Us?” Then Give Us Something.

Dasun Shanaka says there’s too much external negativity and asked fans not to give up on the team.

Here’s the thing. Negativity doesn’t erupt in a vacuum. It builds. Slowly. After years of watching a cricket board accused of corruption, internal politics, questionable decisions, and leadership that seems allergic to accountability.

Fans aren’t angry because they enjoy shouting outside SLC. They’re angry because Sri Lankan cricket used to feel like pride. Now it feels like a press conference.

And yes, let’s talk about the players too.

We understand securing the bag. Brand endorsements matter. Careers are short. Do the ads. Sign the deals. No one is mad at that. But when performances dip, and discipline looks optional, when effort feels inconsistent, when Instagram seems more active than the scoreboard, people will notice. Sliding into DMs and sliding in the powerplay are not the same skill set.

Wearing that jersey is not just a contract. It’s a privilege. Millions of kids would bleed for that spot. When you walk out there, you carry a country that has survived war, bankruptcy, floods, protests, and still shows up to cheer.

Mental health matters. Of course it does. But so does professionalism. So does preparation. So does remembering why that lion is on your chest in the first place. Because if fans are expected to stay loyal through every collapse, the least the system can do is look serious about excellence.

Right now, the frustration isn’t just about losing matches. It’s about losing standards.

Last Word: We won’t abandon the jersey. But the jersey deserves more than apologies. It deserves focus.

Until next week, question power, protect the jersey, and remember that loyalty is earned, whether it's in geopolitics or on the pitch.

- Rihaab