After surviving what he describes as two death threats, Anustiyan Sivapalan made the decision to flee Sri Lanka for Australia.
"They come to my home, they tried to kill me, but luckily I escaped from the shootout," he said.
"That's why I [was] forced to leave."
While the psychological scars caused by an experience like this are too complex for many to understand, Mr Sivapalan has found a community where stories like his are the norm.
He has been playing cricket for a suburban western Sydney team called Ocean 12 that is comprised of Tamil asylum seekers.
Ocean 12 was founded by Noeline Nagle, a retired sports teacher, who volunteered with the Blue Mountains Refugee Support Group by visiting single men in both the community and Villawood Detention Centre.
"The men have this intense feeling of worthlessness; they felt alone, isolated and unsure of what was going to happen to them," she said.
"Their whole life was one unpredictable mess and they needed something concrete — something they could really put their heart and soul into … and I thought I could use cricket as a tool."
Ms Nagle got the backing of the Wentworth Leagues Club and Ocean 12 was created, a name reflecting the boat journey the players made in 2012.
"When we first started they were too shy to interact. Now it comes easy to them," she said.
"The change has been extraordinary."
Alongside the changing men, Ocean 12 has seriously shaken up the local cricketing landscape.
In 2016 and 2019 the team won the Australian championships for T20 Last Man Stands. It also won the RIA Cup for the Sydney League.
"When I play cricket team I feel a little bit happy. I forget my past life a little bit," Mr Sivapalan said.
"We can learn a lot from Aussie young people — learn English a little bit."
Biggest competition is their visa status
Behind the well-documented success of the team, the men's biggest competition is their visa.
While a small number have been granted refugee status, most of them were released from detention on temporary visas and are anxiously awaiting certainty around their claims.
"Some of them got full refugee status, some of them got temporary visas, some of them are still going through the process and worried about their own safety," said team coordinator Bala Vigneswaran.
Mr Sivapalan, who has been on a bridging visa, said he felt as if he had never left detention.
"I applied for the Safe Haven [Enterprise] visa but they refused because of evidence," he said.
"I feel like I live in a detention centre.
"If I have a visa I can study, I can't get good jobs. Only I can play cricket. Still, I am fighting for my life."
Fellow player Nimal Rajaratnam, who has also been on a bridging visa, said living in limbo was a huge challenge.
"I'm married and I have two kids. They are in the refugee camp over there — it's very hard," he said.
"It's heartbreaking and very detrimental to mental health to have a wife and children in another country that you haven't seen in 10, 12 years," Ms Nagle said.
"Many of the men have children that they'd only known as babies."
But while the men wait for certainty, cricket has been able to provide them some relief.
