Kingston: The most significant aspect of Tuesday was neither Sri Lanka entering its second World Cup final nor New Zealand losing its fifth semifinal to reduce the dream of the final to a "a line in the sand" as Stephen Fleming put it.

Not for a moment is it being suggested that they aren't significant. Indeed, both are defining moments. As is often the case with defining moments, they will determine how each country's cricket, and hence world cricket, evolves.

But, the most significant aspect of Tuesday — it is related to the defining moments though the linkage isn't as obvious as it seems — was that it forced us to confront stereotypes. Sport needs stereotypes to survive, for stereotyping makes it easier to identify polarity: mass appeal, often based on opposition, is nothing without polarity.

But, sport needs to constantly confront the stereotypes that prop it up if it is to progress. And on Tuesday, Sabina Park hosted a match that was gloriously iconoclastic.

Devoted to beauty

Popular belief has it that Sri Lanka plays cricket that's lighter than air. Supremely joyous, almost as if they were amateurs, Sri Lanka's cricketers are devoted to beauty, something that elevates them.

It's a wonder literature on existentialism haven't been quoted as yet. The trouble with this is the lack of distinction between style and spirit.

The distinction is fine. Often they overlap and one feeds the other, but perhaps this illustration will clear matters: Mahela Jayawardene doesn't play a pretty cover drive because he's necessarily besotted with beauty. Perhaps he likes beauty, perhaps he likes watching videos of his batting, but he likes neither as much as scoring runs to help Sri Lanka win.

If he looks ugly or scratchy, so be it. There were moments of beauty in his unbeaten 115 even early on when he was making slow progress. In the flowing front-foot defence for instance, but there were moments of awkwardness. Only, he didn't let them bother him.

"I was very nervous until I faced my first ball," said Jayawardene.

"It's a World Cup semifinal, and I contributed to the team. That's all matters to me, it doesn't matter how it comes. It was a contribution to a win."

Sri Lanka's innings was an instance of rigour over all else. It started in circumspection, but ended in abandon, but abandon with rigour: 160 came off the final 20 overs, an incredible 102 off the final 10.

Nowhere was Sri Lanka's rigour more evident than with the ball. Beneath Lasith Malinga's golden tassels and his violent, theatrical action were the basic attributes of line and length. His action did much for him — ball skidded off the surface away from the right-hander, but his thought process was simple, clinical even, and driven by purpose.

Muttiah Muralitharan loves his whirring wrist and the subtleties it produces in conjunction with a sharp cricket brain. But, because it helps him get wickets — he has said as much — not because it's a marvel of biomechanical beauty.

Just as the modern Sri Lankan side is rarely associated with utilitarianism, so the New Zeeland side is rarely ascribed poignancy. Even the appellation, the Black Caps, connotes a certain inanimate efficiency.

But, Fleming's declaration that New Zealand wasn't good enough must rank as among the most poignant moments of the World Cup. "We have to produce players that can take us to the final and go on and win it," said Fleming. "For a country like ours to keep producing sides that make the semifinals is an achievement, but it's not good enough. We don't produce as many world-class players, but we do very well with what we have."

Charging at Malinga

As poignant was Ross Taylor playing Malinga, not because he seemed to be made a fool of, as was popular perception. But because this incredibly talented young batsmen had the skill and the presence of mind to play inside the line. He had the temerity to charge Malinga, and incredibly managed to synchronise bat-speed with the ball's timing. Movement and line defeated him, but it was a glimpse of something truly special.

Taylor is a rarity in New Zealand cricket: he's naturally endowed, and this kind of player traditionally has had an uneasy relationship with New Zealand's structure. Taylor is the way forward. New Zealand will have to confront the stereotype it seems to have believed if it is to progress.

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