Gymnastics, Gratitude, and a Basket Full of Trouble

 

In the wild world of Sri Lankan gymnastics, it seems that talent alone isn't enough — a nice juicy mango might just tip the scales in your favour. Parents of young gymnasts have lobbed serious accusations at a coach who, according to them, has turned training into a bizarre blend of sports and supermarket.

The coach, running a private club where over 50 little gymnasts cartwheel their hearts out six days a week, reportedly demands fruit baskets as "tokens of appreciation." And not just any fruits — we’re betting it’s the premium, Instagram-worthy kind.

Oh, and let’s not forget the monthly Rs. 5,000 membership fee, which, combined with the fruits, probably makes this the most expensive farmer's market in town.

Public Resources, Private Profits: A Perfect Split?

The facilities these kids use? Paid for by taxpayers.

The equipment they swing on? Courtesy of the Ministry of Sports.

The profit? Firmly pocketed by the coach, say the parents.

Despite his cushy government job, the coach allegedly rakes in about Rs. 250,000 a month on the side. All while using ministry-owned gear, sparking a simple question: Is this a gym or a gold mine?

Parents are demanding to know how this arrangement was approved — or if it ever was — because right now, it looks more like a heist than a high-bar routine.

The Junior National Championships: Pay to Play?

March brought the Junior National Gymnastics Championship — and with it, a bill. According to furious parents, each gymnast was asked to pay a hefty Rs. 25,000 towards the event's expenses. Sponsorships from a London-based gymnast and the Bank of Ceylon were also gathered... but strangely, not into the official National Gymnastics Association account. Instead, the funds found their way into the coach’s private club account. How convenient.

At this point, it’s less of a competition and more of a fundraising gala — minus the transparency, of course.

Prize Money: The Vanishing Act

Winning should be sweet, right? Well, not if over half your prize money mysteriously disappears.

Parents say that after grueling competitions, their kids barely see the cash prizes they earn, with the club allegedly keeping a significant slice of the winnings. Talk about flipping for free.

One gymnast reportedly joked, "At least the fruit basket didn’t disappear... yet."

No Colombo Address? No Gym Time.

As if that wasn’t enough, the coach is also accused of playing gatekeeper with ministry facilities. Young athletes — even those who represented Sri Lanka at the Olympics — are reportedly turned away if they don’t have the right postal code (hint: Colombo preferred).

Apparently, in this club, it’s not "strongest wins" but "closest to Colombo wins." Aspiring gymnasts from outstation areas are allegedly blocked from using equipment they technically helped fund with their parents' taxes.

A Ministry on the Mat

With outrage growing and scandal swirling like a gymnast on a pommel horse, all eyes are now glued to the Ministry of Sports. Will they somersault into action? Or will they continue to let this circus tumble along unchecked?

One thing’s for sure: when a sport starts sounding more like an episode of Money Heist, it might be time for someone to call the referee.