Rohit Sharma, parachuted back into the team as captain, has enjoyed two dreadful days of Test cricket. Dismissed cheaply in both innings for 3 and 6, he set fields which were unimaginative to the point of catatonia. He overbowled his strike pacemen Bumrah and Siraj, and underbowled Reddy, who picked up Labuschagne and created more chances in his paltry six-over stint. He was caught napping by Head, and failed to bring Ashwin into the attack until it was almost too late. He has much to ponder. India might be well-advised to return the captaincy to Bumrah, who did nothing wrong in Perth and presided over a crushing victory.

But the day was Travis Head’s, first and last. He arrived at the crease earlier than he would have hoped, as the dauntless Bumrah dragged his team back into the contest with the first three wickets of the innings. And from the first he launched his customary, blistering counter-attack. The man averages eighty-odd in Tests on his home ground, and he settled in to enjoy himself. McSweeney perished to a good one, and Smith came and went, as is his wont these days. He was unlucky again: a leg-side strangle. Yet a technique as unorthodox as his can only be praised when it works. His recent record is consistently dreadful, and time is running out for him.

The other batting hero was Labuschagne. His first twenty-odd was painful to watch, but after a while he straightened up his technique; began to move his feet forward or back rather than merely across; and blossomed into a glittering array of strokes. His 64 was a fine effort when others about him struggled. Marsh played Ashwin as though the tall off-spinner were propounding riddles in Sanskrit, and was so befuddled that he walked off after a half-hearted appeal for a catch behind he didn’t even hit. But Head smashed the attack all over the park, and India could do nothing about it. When his century came up he perched his baggy green helmet atop his bat handle and gestured to his wife Jess and baby Harrison.

With the home side eager to bowl in the evening Head upped his already stellar scoring rate. When he finally played all over a fast yorker from Siraj, the latter offered him some friendly advice on his departure. Delighted with this display of sportsmanship Adelaide’s fifty thousand gave Siraj a rousing reception thereafter. It was an outré act from a man whose bowling had been put to the sword by Head’s run-a-ball 140; but to do the young man justice he bowled fast, with more vim than good judgement, and was rewarded, if that is the right word, by four late wickets. But the bowling hero was, as ever, Jasprit Bumrah, whose 4/61 was barely adequate to his magnificent skills. He swung the ball both ways, he seamed it off the pitch, and he flummoxed all but the best Australia could offer.

They now had a comfortable buffer over the 150-mark, and two hours to make incisions into the visitors’ second innings.  Cummins began with a brutal bouncer which Rahul edged behind attempting an injudicious hook. Thereafter Jaiswal and Gill briefly prospered, and after eight overs had managed 42. The advent of Boland at first change wrought momentous consequences. His first delivery took Jaiswal’s edge. For latter-day Kohli Boland’s metronomic fourth-stump line could not be bettered, and it was no surprise to see the veteran follow Jaiswal. At three down India were already in extremis. Starc ended Shubman Gill’s run-a-ball 28 with another trademark swinging yorker, and Sharma followed soon after. Starc had already trapped him in front second ball, but he’s overstepped. Cummins put an end to him through the gate, and at five down India were on their knees.

An early finish tomorrow? Maybe. And maybe not. Rishabh Pant is unbeaten on 28, and the enterprising Reddy on 15. Both are scoring at breakneck speed. The former’s reverse lap for four off Boland had to be seen to be believed, being more reminiscent of the Cirque du Soleil than a Test match. But this is how he bats, and it works for him. The game isn’t over till it’s really over.

India won the toss and decided to bat at this most picturesque of venues. The decision made sense, despite the menace of the pink ball, the well-grassed wicket promising seam and swing, and the all-but-nameless dread of having to bat under lights later on. Gill, Sharma and Ashwin came into their victorious lineup, while Australia made but the one change: Boland for the injured Hazelwood. It was a day of more twists than a bag of liquorice. Starc removed Perth centurion Jaiswal with the opening delivery of the match: a classic Starc inswinging yorker. Jaiswal stayed on his crease and was blown away as by a left-arm hurricane. He ought to have played forward; but many a batsman before him has been undone by Starc’s signature weapon.

Gill and Rahul thereupon made merry with a stand of 69. The luckless Boland took Rahul’s edge with his first delivery, but had overstepped. In the same over he had Rahul dropped in the slips. Yet the taciturn Victorian went back to his mark and persisted. Later on he ought to have Reddy leg before for a duck; but Cummins, hearing two noises, failed to grasp that both were pads front and back. Yet he picked up both Gill and Sharma (also leg before), and only had his figures spoiled by Reddy’s counterattack. His 13^th and final over cost him 21.

Yet the day belonged to Starc. Whenever Australia needed a wicket he was there: a constant, slinging, smiling menace. He loves the pink ball in Adelaide. He finished with 6/48, his best ever Test figures, and snuffed out Reddy’s enterprising assault. As in Perth, the Indian no.7 top-scored with a belligerent 42. The other change in the attack was Cummins, who shook off his maritime lethargy in the first Test and bowled with fire and venom. The only demerit was Marsh’s four overs of cafeteria stuff which cost 26. If he’s unwell and cannot bowl at the required standard Australia could easily have picked Webster in his stead. If anyone can replace Cameron Green it is surely the giant Tasmanian.

India were out on the stroke of dinner for 180. The Indian seam quartet must have been licking their lips in anticipation at bowling under lights at the fragile Australian batsmen. Yet the home team dug in, and while they lost Khawaja to Bumrah’s last gasp of his opening spell, McSweeney and Labuschagne defied everything fired at them, and went to stumps at 1/86 with a decided advantage.  They were helped considerably by India’s bowlers, who allowed them to leave far too many deliveries by not attacking the stumps enough. The art of the Leave is an essential part of any Test cricketer’s handbook. Aside from Rahul, few Indians attempted it enough; while Kohli, as he all to often does, attempted both at once and offered a catch to Smith in the gully off Starc. One can almost imagine Yoda muttering from the sidelines: Play, or not play. There is no try.

McSweeney will resume on a splendid 38. His baptism in Perth was, if not by fire, at least hot enough for discomfort; but he is a game cricketer and deserved the one life he gave to Pant, who fumbled it off the perspiring Bumrah. And Labuschagne? Few thought he should be selected at all. In Perth he batted as though he had found himself with the wrong number of legs. He took 18 balls to get off the mark. But he clung to the crease as though it were the Titanic lifeboat, and made it to stumps unbeaten on 20. The crowd of fifty thousand will have gone home happy: at least those barracking for the home team. They even offered to help with their phones when the lights kept going out: a true stadium rock moment. More as it comes to hand.