In the first over of the Boxing Day Test, Chris Rogers was struck an eye-watering blow. In the second over, so was Australia as David Warner was snapped up slips for a duck. Twenty minutes passed until Australia scored a run off the bat, 40 until they hit a four. By then, the first beach ball already was bobbing about in Bay 13. The first Mexican wave was not long behind.

This was the foreword to a change of pace in this series of mostly headlong runmaking and wicket-taking, more traditional fare for a more traditional day, cricket made to order for a day of rest and recuperation. It was cricket in the form of a good book rather than a video game. For the first time this series, the over rate was fast and the run rate slow; the pages kept on turning.

The MCG pitch was tailored to a Test nicety, promising and bringing good to those prepared to call wait. All gains were hard won, no ground ungrudgingly conceded. There were just 22 boundaries. In Adelaide, Warner hit nearly that many by himself on day one. In Brisbane, Murali Vijay did. India would always have felt that it was building pressure, Australia always that it was absorbing it. Every time Australia worked up a bit of momentum, India halted it. Every time India made inroads, Australia blocked them. Tightening here, loosening there, and then the tide would turn again. It was engrossing Test cricket.

Shane Watson pared down his sumptuous game until it was indistinguishable from Chris Rogers', and together they repaired that early Warner breach with a stand of 115. Watson dabbed the ball to ground and ran sharp singles rather strike out for distant boundaries. Rogers bunted and blunted. Both made half-centuries and then suddenly were out an over apart, Rogers to his first loose shot, Watson to a missed sweep. Cricketers are nothing if not hostages to the impression they make, and so Rogers' innings will be seen as an opportunity seized, Watson's as an opportunity wasted.

For the third time in half a day, Australia had to begin from scratch. Captain Steve Smith and Shaun Marsh shared 70 before Marsh played a Cunis shot, neither cut nor drive, and was caught behind. Joe Burns made two endearing first impressions, firstly when donning his verdant new cap even while lolling in the changerooms, then with a handful of promising strokes, until exuberance got the better of him. Burns' ledger is new and clean, Marsh's less so; they, or their positions, must generate runs if last summer's successes are to be rolled into the summers to come.

Burns, in context, couldn't fail and Smith simply doesn't. Alert to all threats and danger, he took 18 balls to make one, 32 to make three. It was not that he couldn't score, but that he wouldn't until the minefield had been cleared. An off-drive for six from off-spinner Ravi Ashwin - so identifiably his shot that it could serve as an autograph - released him, and by stumps he was 72 not out. En route, he ticked off 1000 Test runs for the calendar year, a figure that accords with his heft now as a cricketer.

India's attack was at times hostile and always persistent. The seamers, again relishing Australian pitches, at times bowled what might be called Bodyline lite. The counter-foiling Ashwin's first 12 overs brought him 1-8. But India were remiss in small, important ways. They would corner the Australian batsmen and then let them slip away, with two wide balls or a meek misfield, and once, a dropped slips catch. These are margins that in cricket sometimes become gulfs.

India will have finished the day thinking themselves in a good position that might have been better. So will Australia. Both will have thought that there is time and scope yet on Saturday morning to turn moral advantage into concrete. That is what made it a classic day of Test cricket. Saturday morning's play now becomes a crucial juncture in the series. If Australia's tail wags as it did so often last summer, and in Brisbane last week, there will be no coming back for India. But two quick wickets, and India will lead. The battle is over; let the battle begin.