It didn't take much to win them over.
It was only five nights ago that Sri Lanka's batters tanked what seemed to be an untankable T20I, the middle order collapsing with such seismic ferocity even the batting in the Super Over was shaken. Spectators were incensed, and let the team know it. Hundreds in Pallekele gathered on the edge of the grass banks closest to the presentation ceremony and demanded answers from Charith Asalanka, the only player who emerged from the dressing room. Sticking around until well after the last wicket fell to scream their frustrations. This was after midnight on a weekday - fan feedback driven almost totally by spite.
By the second half of Sunday's ODI, the papare was blaring, a Lankan crowd was in voice, an India middle order was crashing, the vibes were back. It didn't take much, never has taken much, doesn't seem like it ever will take much. On its best days, Khettarama feels less a cricket ground, more a party that happens to have shimmied up to a cricket ground.
This team crashed out of the T20 World Cup at the earliest opportunity. They haven't qualified for next year's Champions trophy. They're ranked as low as… well… let's not depress ourselves.
Still, this public still looks for reasons to show up. On Friday, only about a third of Khettarama was full, but the team pulled off a tie, which after 10 straight losses to India, felt a little like a victory. On Sunday, expectedly, many more rolled up, clutching Sri Lanka flags. Helped by a strong contingent of India fans, the stands appeared at least 90% full.
The middle order, so meek in the T20s, found its spine for the second match in a row in Dunith Wellalage, whose name has been on Khettarama's lips since he impressed in a series against Australia two years ago.
But they truly came alive for Jeffrey Vandersay, shunted into the team at the last moment after Wanindu Hasaranga was ruled out. On the kind of big-spinning surface that tends to narrow the gap between these two teams, he bowled sublime wicket-to-wicket lines, excellent lengths, and vitally changed up the tilt of the seam.
Some caught the seam and turned or leapt big - the ball that had Rohit Sharma caught at backward point, the ball to get Shubman Gill caught at slip, the one to trap Shivam Dube in front. Others slid on, like the balls that dismissed Virat Kohli, and KL Rahul. His was almost a Test-match mode of attack, on what essentially felt like a dustbowl day-four surface.
India had raced to 97 for no loss on the back of another Rohit fast start. But although there were big cheers for Rohit's departure, it was when Gill was dismissed that the crowd lifted leaping at their seats, almost as spectacularly as Kamindu Mendis leapt to his right to complete the tour's most exquisite grab, at slip.
"Gill was going nicely, so with that blinder of a catch, Kamindu turned everything around," Vandersay said after the game. This is not a crowd that expects victory exactly, particularly against a team such as India. But it does expect to be made happy, and few acts on the field are as infectiously joyous as an astonishing catch.
"People still love us and want to back us," Vandersay said. "No point if we go and play the game if there's no backing - if there are no supporters. As much as we want to play the game and win, we need them supporting us. It's a process. It will take time. But I believe we are on the right track."
Whether the track is right is yet to be seen. This was a single victory, on what may be described as a singular track, given the runways seen much more often in white-ball cricket. Vandersay's own career is one of significant highs, such as his T20 World Cup in 2016, but also of lows such as the 2019 World Cup, where he was modest in the one game he was allowed to play. It has been no surprise that his presence in squads have been sporadic.
And yet, on a night when the rare victories come, the difficult truths feel more manageable. It is possible to imagine a future in which Vandersay makes himself part of Sri Lanka's spin-bowling core over the next two years. There's a T20 World Cup Sri Lanka are due to co-host in 2026.
More vitally, this was a karate-chop to the monotony of defeat, and the pessimism it is so easy to slip into. If this crowd is a cardiogram, in an era of Sri Lanka's men's cricket in which it's often felt like their condition was critical, in this ODI at least, there was a powerful heartbeat.