Mendis' royal flourish the only small solace

Maybe it is because Kusal Mendis' blood is already blue that the Yorkshire gusts seemed to chill him a little less than they did his woeful team-mates. In 21 first-class matches so far, Mendis has one century and four fifties. But he is a recent national Under-19 captain and a Schoolboy Cricketer of the Year, which makes him royalty in Sri Lankan cricket. This is a storied bloodline, featuring the likes of Thilan Samaraweera The Doughty, Tortured Prince Roshan Mahanama and of course Supreme Leader Arjuna Ranatunga, Protector of the Bent-Armed, Baiter of Australia and Umpire Finger-Pointer Eternal.

Mendis may look around his dressing room and feel he has not had a difficult ride. Kaushal Silva had had to toil his way through 27 first-class hundreds before he was awarded a long stretch in the team. Rangana Herath was forced to hone his craft for a decade in places such as Kurunegala, Kurunduwatta and Stoke-on-Trent. Mendis was virtually borne into the Sri Lanka team on a palanquin, selectors fanning air in his direction with phrases like: "He has so much time to play the ball", "he is a talent we just cannot afford to waste" and probably, "what can we do to make you more comfortable?"

So on a batting day bleaker even than Leeds weather, in a team score skimpier than attire in city bars, it made sense that Mendis batted like he was better than the supposed plebs around him. The scorecard, at least, bore his superiority out.

His first four was fenced languorously in the gap between the slips and wide gully. The team was still 180 runs behind, but then came a stroke of authority: a checked-but-lofted drive over mid-on, with the ball ending up near the Old Pavilion. This is a three-storey brick-and-tile affair with white columns propping up the wide balconies. It is the handsomest structure at Headingley. To Mendis though, it  probably seemed a little common. Two years ago, at alma mater Prince of Wales College, it had been the beautiful school building with corniced arches and pilasters, an elaborate gable and pediment, and a long, shaded verandah, that he was creaming boundaries towards.

Back then his runs came against opponents demonstrably less gifted. This was not the case today, yet in counterattacking in such a difficult game situation, it seemed that he at least believed he was equal to the likes of James Anderson, Stuart Broad and Steven Finn.

It is the kind of belief that eluded his team-mates over the last four sessions, which contained their two farcical innings. The rest of this top order bent the knee to England's attack. They dutifully offered up their edges. They bestowed on centurion Jonny Bairstow a near-record portion of simple catches. And even if Anderson is irresistible in such conditions, they presented him with one of his easiest ten-wicket-hauls.

Sri Lanka's cricket board had attempted to provide the team with "higher-altitude training" in 25-degree Kandy, ahead of this icy tour. This is a little like standing under a light bulb to prepare for an expedition across the Sahara. After this performance, fans can be in no doubt the board should have actually begun preparations for this period at least a decade ago. If administrators are so unwilling to modernise their backwards first-class system, the least they could have done was to force Mahela Jayawardene and Kumar Sangakkara into cryogenic freezers between tours, so as to extend their careers a few years.

And though the board and its selectors had attempted to pump the team up by sending flowery compliments their way, this has clearly not inspired the cricketers. What worked better in 2014, was goading from England ex-players, who called the Sri Lanka bowling a "glorified county attack". If Michael Vaughan wants this present series to be competitive, he will announce that Sri Lanka's batting has all the skill, not of any cricketers on English grounds, but of herds of goats grazing beyond it. Anything less demeaning might not be enough to prompt the anger that will close the gulf in class seen at Headingley.

Sri Lanka will quietly move off to Durham now, knowing they have repeated so many of their mistakes from the past year. The bowling was encouraging. The catching was atrocious. The batting was even worse. The lone spot of joy will be Mendis, even if like a typical silver-spooner he benefited from excellent fortune en route to fifty, dropped twice behind the wicket. He had been lucky in his maiden tour in New Zealand as well, when a bowler hit his off stump, but the bails refused to fall - even the woodwork reluctant to offend him.

He hit 53 off 68 in the end. For the foreseeable future, it seems as if fans will have to subsist on such slivers of competence in otherwise calamitous days.