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 13th 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.